As Seen On TV

28. Cleaning out the Closet

For the tenth time that day, I dragged the little red progress bar backwards on my phone screen to restart the video. I watched the scene play out again and again, as if the small digits ticking up the clip's views would somehow erase the events shown in the video.

I shuddered as it began playing again, and tried to distract myself. I read the video title: "Patrick and Andrew battle it out for Lyra's Heart!!!" The description: Watch fan favorite contestants Patrick Miller and Andrew Hastings get into a heated fistfight, as Lyra watches in horror. What does this mean for next week? Stay tuned for more #DatingDemocracy content! The comments... which I read a couple of and then quickly retreated back to the video. All were brutal. None of it helped.

Patrick reeled back from the punch, caught off guard. His face immediately changed from a mask of sadness and raw emotion, to an expression of shock, and finally, became icy cold. Rather than look mad or even flustered, he was deadly calm.

He stalked towards Andrew and punched a bold finger into his chest. 

"So we're really doing this, then? Fine. Your funeral, Hastings."

He danced backward a step and swiped his fist, faking a couple times before landing a punch squarely on Andrew's jaw. They looked like two boxers, or two wild animals, circling, looking for weak points. 

"You're gonna regret that," Andrew muttered, rubbing his jaw. It was already beginning to bruise.

And then it became all-out pandemonium. Andrew lunged at Patrick, nearly knocking him flat backwards with his impact and brute force, but Patrick held his own, and dug in to his stance further so as to wrestle himself further into Andrew's grip. Andrew was slightly taller, but it looked like Patrick had him on pure muscle.

It was at this point that I saw myself enter the frame, looking fragile and pale, not to mention- scared. Three things I never wanted to be considered.

Patrick struggled against Andrew's hold, both man groaning and straining in an effort to outdo each other. Patrick pushed slightly harder, forcing Andrew to stumble backwards until he had him pinned against the house's outer wall. Andrew struggled and kicked at his shins, landing a couple quick blows to Patrick's face, around his eyes. Patrick cursed, spitting, but missed Andrew's face.

He became enraged, like some sort of animal, and began repeatedly punching Andrew, in his abdomen, his chest, and then he began hitting him in the face until I saw blood coming from his jaw. I could see it even from the video.

"Enough! Enough! Guys, stop! Andrew! Pat! You're going to hurt him!" My voice.

"That's kind of the point, sweetheart," Patrick growled. 

"Don't you dare!" Now it was Andrew's turn to be enraged, possessed by some otherworldly thirst for blood, and he muscled his way into turning Patrick around so that the men had now traded places. He began to punch Patrick in the face, bashing at his cheeks and nose repeatedly. Both men now had bloody faces and knuckles.

"Stop already! Stop! What's the matter with you?"

"What the fuck is going on out here?" 

At this point, I saw Jazmin emerge from the house, looking as gorgeous and confident as ever. She approached me from the side of the house, calling my name hesitantly before seeing the two men beating each other to a pulp in front of me.

"Come on, let's stop them!"

"I tried!"

Jazmin marched up to the two of them and attempted to put herself between them, but the men paid her no attention. They were dead set on destroying each other. She eventually retreated back to me so that they wouldn't hurt her.