Fight IV

Ethan stood menacingly in front of Jason, who gulped nervously, his throat dry as sandpaper. The smirk on Ethan's face curled into a full grin, one that practically screamed, I'm enjoying this way too much. He slowly cracked his knuckles, each pop echoing in the tense silence of the room. Jason, bound to the chair with tape over his mouth, could do nothing but watch, his mind racing.

This is it, he thought, sweat dripping down his temples. I've punched a superstar in front of another superstar. What was I thinking?

Ethan took a slow step forward, clearly savoring the moment. But before he could do whatever he was planning, a sharp, commanding voice rang out.

"That's enough."

Ethan stopped mid-step and turned toward Jessica, who had spoken with her arms crossed and an unamused look on her face.

"Oh, come on," Ethan whined like a child caught trying to sneak another cookie from the jar.

Rebecca, standing nearby, didn't miss a beat. "Yeah, it's enough. Don't traumatize the kid—what's wrong with you?"

Ethan looked incredulous, gesturing wildly toward Jason. "Me? Traumatizing him? He's the one who sucker-punched me! Out of nowhere!"

Bill, standing off to the side with a cup of coffee in hand, raised an eyebrow and added dryly, "So, what? You're planning to hit him back? Real mature, Jones."

"Yes!" Ethan shot back without hesitation, his tone almost offended at the suggestion that he wouldn't.

Before the room could react, another voice sliced through the tension like a hot knife through butter.

"Ethan!" Taylor's voice was sharp, filled with the kind of authority that only a global icon could command.

Ethan froze, his posture stiff as he turned to face Taylor, who stood with her hands on her hips, her disapproving stare boring into him.

"What?" Ethan stammered, suddenly defensive. "That's not what I meant." He glanced around the room, noticing the collective looks of disapproval. "This isn't fair! The guy sucker-punched me! Am I just supposed to let that go?"

Rebecca rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Yeah, yeah, we know. But still, we're not letting you lay a finger on him."

Ethan threw his hands up in frustration. "Are you for real? All of you?!" He scanned the room, looking for even a sliver of support, but the united expressions of judgment made it clear he wasn't winning this argument.

"Fine," he muttered, folding his arms across his chest like a sulking teenager. "I won't do anything."

The room fell silent for a moment, the tension easing slightly as everyone relaxed. But then Ethan broke the quiet with a muttered, "Since I can't do anything, I'm calling the cops."

Jason's eyes widened in sheer panic at the mention of the police. He began shaking his head frantically, his muffled voice trying to form words beneath the tape. His entire body trembled as if the mere thought of the cops was enough to shatter him.

Then, another voice cut through the room, calm but firm.

"Nope. We aren't doing that," Jessica said again, stepping forward.

Ethan groaned, spinning on his heel to face her. "Oh, come on! And why exactly aren't we doing that?"

Jessica crossed her arms, her gaze steady. "Are you for real? Look at him!" She pointed toward Jason, who looked more like a frightened puppy than a threat. "How are you planning to explain this to anyone?"

"Easy," Ethan retorted, raising a finger for emphasis. "I'll just tell them he attacked me!"

Before he could go further, Rebecca cut in, her voice sharp. "And what will you say when the press gets a hold of this story? Imagine the headlines: 'Superstar Ethan Jones Arrests a Kid.'" She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in as Ethan's confidence visibly faltered. "Do you really think we need that kind of publicity right now? We're already walking on thin ice."

Ethan let out a frustrated sigh, his shoulders slumping as he turned back to Jason. For a moment, he simply stared at the boy, who now seemed eerily calm despite the situation. Jason's wide, terrified eyes had softened into something else—defiance, maybe. Ethan frowned, running a hand through his hair as he let out another sigh.

"You think you're off the hook, don't you?" Ethan muttered, stepping forward.

Immediately, the room erupted into chaos.

"Ethan, what are you doing?"

"Stop it!"

"Don't do anything you'll regret!"

But Ethan wasn't listening. His focus was locked on Jason as he marched forward, determination etched into every step. Jason's heart pounded in his chest, each beat louder than the last. He watched Ethan's hands rise, his breath hitching as panic set in.

This is it, Jason thought. He's going to hit me, and I can't even fight back.

Jason squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the blow.

Then—rip!

A sharp pain stung his lips as the tape was yanked from his mouth. Jason's eyes flew open, and he yelped, "Ouch!" His hands instinctively moved, though they were still bound.

Ethan stood there, holding the tape in his hand like a trophy, a triumphant grin plastered across his face.

"Now," Ethan said, his voice calm but edged with irritation, "tell me who you are and why you hit me.