Y/N's journey from a glamorous life as a model and brand ambassador to the gritty world of underground boxing.
After losing her closest friend, Jennie, Y/N seeks refuge in a murder-prone area, where she confronts jealousy, betrayal, and her own past...
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The seconds seemed to stretch into an eternity as our eyes locked in silent confrontation. I stood my ground, refusing to be reduced to his assumptions. The dim glow from the arena lights accentuated the stern lines of his face and the contours of his well-built physique.
The intensity in his gaze slowly gave way to a hint of intrigue. He seemed to be contemplating my sincerity. With a deliberate nod, he acknowledged my declaration and spoke, "You're not dressed for it, but if you're serious, then prove it."
Without any further explanation, he turned and began walking toward one of the training areas. I followed, my heart pounding with a mix of nervousness and determination.
As we reached the training area, I noticed a set of boxing gloves and protective gear on a nearby bench. He pointed at them and then gestured to a heavy punching bag hanging from the ceiling. It was a silent invitation for me to put on the gear and demonstrate my intentions.
The message was clear: If I wanted to be taken seriously, I had to show my commitment through action, not words. With a newfound resolve, I donned the boxing gloves and approached the punching bag. As I began to throw punches, the sound of leather striking the bag echoed through the gritty training arena, marking the beginning of a journey into a world I had never imagined myself in.
My punches were far from perfect, but I was giving it my all. I knew I had to earn their respect, and this was my chance.
However, as I continued to hit the punching bag, I couldn't help but notice the laughter that had erupted around me. The other men in the training area found my presence amusing, to say the least. They saw me, a newcomer with little experience, attempting to prove myself in a male-dominated space.
The man who had saved me earlier, whom they referred to as "Master," watched the scene unfold with a smirk on his face. It was as if he had known this would happen.
Their laughter stung, but I was determined not to let it discourage me. I pushed through, focusing on my form and technique. I ignored the judgmental comments and the dismissive looks from the others.
The minutes felt like hours as I continued to train. I was well aware that I had a long way to go, but I was not about to give up. My resolve only grew stronger, and I kept punching that bag with all the determination I could muster.
In the midst of the laughter and mockery, a few of the men started to take notice of my determination. They saw that I was not just here to show off but to genuinely learn and improve. Perhaps, slowly but surely, I was gaining their respect.
As I continued to throw punches, I couldn't help but wonder if I had made the right decision by coming here. The road ahead was challenging, but I was ready to face whatever it took to prove that I belonged in this boxing arena.
After a grueling and intense battle with the massive opponent, I found myself running on fumes. I couldn't muster the strength to continue, and my body gave in. I collapsed to the ground, utterly exhausted, my chest heaving for air.
As I lay on the floor, I could feel a sudden rush of pain, and I realized that I was being kicked in the back. Laughter erupted from the onlookers. They reveled in my moment of weakness, and it seemed like they had no mercy.
The kicks were relentless, and I clenched my teeth in agony, determined not to let out a cry. I refused to show any vulnerability in front of these merciless spectators. It felt like an eternity before the kicks finally ceased, and the laughter died down.
I knew I had pushed myself to the limits in the ring, and the result was not in my favor this time. But I also knew that this was just one battle, and I had to keep going if I wanted to prove myself. I had to find a way to get back on my feet and continue training, learning, and fighting.
With sheer determination, I slowly pushed myself up despite the aching pain in my back. I knew I had a long way to go, but this was just the beginning of my journey in this unforgiving world of underground boxing. I refused to be beaten down, and I was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
As I struggled to rise from the ground, the same man who had initially wanted to test me emerged as a dominant figure. The entire room fell into a sudden silence as he commanded them to stop. The other fighters, who had moments ago been delivering kicks and laughter, now knelt before him, following his orders with the utmost respect.
With a mix of exhaustion and determination, I managed to stand on my feet. Every muscle ached, but my spirit remained unbroken. I walked toward the man who had saved me from further humiliation. My eyes held a spark of hope, and I was determined to prove myself to him.
Standing in front of him, I didn't utter a word. Instead, I met his gaze with unwavering determination. It was a silent message, a declaration of my intent to learn and grow, to be more than just a novice in this world of underground boxing. The man observed me closely, his eyes assessing my resolve.
In this moment of silent understanding, I knew that I had gained a chance to prove myself in this ruthless environment. It was a small victory, but it was a step toward earning respect and recognition in the unforgiving world of underground fighting. The challenges would be numerous, but I was ready to face them head-on, fueled by the hope of becoming something more than the underdog.
The man, who had become a pivotal figure in this underground boxing world, ordered the other fighters to give me some space. As a new beginner in the realm of boxing, I was granted a chance to prove my mettle. They all backed away, creating a small circle within the training area for me to focus on my training.
The leader then addressed one of his trusted associates and instructed them to show me to a dorm. It was evident that I had earned a minimal level of respect from him, and I was grateful for the opportunity. The associate led the way, guiding me to the dormitory within this challenging and unpredictable environment.
My journey as an amateur boxer in this harsh world had just begun, and I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope in my heart.
The person led me to a hella messy room that could barely be called a dormitory. It was more of a makeshift living space with a small boxing arena set up right next door. The room was cluttered with men's clothes, training equipment, and various belongings strewn about haphazardly. The hallway where all the dorm rooms were aligned seemed chaotic, to say the least.
As I stepped into my assigned dorm, I noticed a tiny bathroom tucked away in one corner. It was basic and barely spacious enough to meet anyone's needs, but it was better than nothing. The room itself was far from comfortable, but I had no complaints. It was the opportunity to train and grow as a boxer that mattered most to me.
The sounds of grunts and punches from the neighboring arena echoed through the thin walls, a constant reminder of the challenging environment I had entered. I took a deep breath, determined to adapt and make the most of this new chapter in my life.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ I am back you all... with little determination Please hype my lazy ass up because I can never do this alone
