Loving the fight

8♦

8

♦𝕭𝖑𝖆𝖐𝖊♦

I wrap my knuckles up with my slowly deteriorating hand wraps. I should really order some new ones, but I just don't really care to do that at the moment.

 Since I've decided to fight again this year I need to step up my training. Dean has been on my ass about it this year, apparently he's managed to get some big investors funding the fights. 

It means more money all around, and that means it will draw in fighters from other circles. He says I'll have major competition this year and that is some of the best news I've ever heard from him. But it's also got me worried, I never used to care about coming home covered in my own blood. But I know Rose will be devastated if I lose a fight. Not because I lost, but because losing means being beaten near death. 

That girl worries about me like no other ever has. I see the way her hands tremble when I step in the cage. She tries to hide it, she doesn't know that I know just how much it actually bothers her. But of course I fucking do, that's what happens when you love someone. You pay attention to the little things, things I never thought I'd give a shit about. 

 After a grueling three hour session in the gym I'm stuffing my things back into the gym bag Rose gifted me as I see a figure approaching me. "Hey, are you in some kinda trouble or something?" Henry asks. 

We've only talked a handful of times as we've passed each other in the gym, but we see each other a lot as he is in here training most days, just like I used to. 

He's a younger teen who needs to be here just like I did at his age. We might not have had a conversation about it, but when you've been there yourself, you start to see it all around you. 

I used to think I was alone in what I was experiencing, but now I know that most peoples life is pretty fucked up.

 I've offered to help him out, but he won't accept anything from me, and I understand. But he knows my offer still stands. 

 "No. Why?" Is this some kind of set up? What kind of question even is that? I zip my bag up and throw it over my shoulder, eager to get out of this musty locker room. Living with Rose has gotten me used to things smelling nice. 

 "There's a guy keeping tabs on you." His head nods in the direction of the parking lot. "Has been asking around for you. Only knows your name though, it's weird. He came in the other day and talked to me, but I told him I didn't know anything about you. I got your back." His eyes hold mine as he speaks. He's letting me know he's no snitch, and whatever I've done stays between me and whoever is waiting for me outside.

 "You recognize him?" I ask. I've seen Henry work for Dean before, not often. But I know he's in and around my circle.

 "No, I've never seen him before. Someone told him about Uppercut. But not what it is. He asked me about it." Uppercut, that's what people call the fights when they don't know who they are talking to.

 If someone mentioned Uppercut that most likely means this guy isn't from my circle. And for some reason he's seeking me out. 

"Thanks, Henry." I slap him on the back of the shoulder as I make my way out of the locker room and towards the front doors. I can see him already. I'm sizing him up before I step foot outside. Average height, dark brown hair and a slim build. He doesn't look weak, but not strong either. I could take him down, easily. 

I scan his clothes, blue jeans and sneakers. His dark blue shirt is tucked into his pants, he's either really good at hiding weapons or he came empty handed. He doesn't appear to be here to start something with me, he seems... normal.