Antonio, a renowned boxer in NYC, revels in his fame, money, and success with the ladies. But as his most important fight approaches, his usual trainer departs unexpectedly and is replaced with his daughter, Danielle. Antonio, fueled by his ingraine...
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DANIELLE
Walking into the gym, I inhale the distinct scent of Clorox, contrasting the raw smell of sweat and dedication. Everyone here operates as early risers, and arrives every morning on their A-game.
"My man! Put it there!" I say, dabbing up Aaron Wilson like we're the best of friends, as if I didn't officially meet him just yesterday. The guys welcomed me into their circle last night when they invited me out to the bar. After taking a round of fireball shots, I was initiated as one of them. Surprisingly, they've all been remarkably accepting, and didn't exclude me on the basis of me being a girl, unlike some people.
Notably, said people, weren't at last night's gathering. No, they were probably out getting their dick wet instead.
"Jason, your form is improving! That yoga is paying off, just like I told ya..." I comment as I make my rounds. "Ben! Jerry! How are ya?" That's not their actual names, of course, but nicknames awarded to them due to their uncanny resemblance.
Speaking of nicknames, here comes Roach.
"Yo! Dani, can you help me out real quick?" Cameron beckons, waving me over to a corner.
"Yeah, for sure," I say following him. "What's up?"
"So... I wanna put on some muscle," he admits, flexing his arms subconsciously. I hold back a chuckle, pretending to think as I cover my mouth. "Something you can help me out with?"
"Sure man. You know I just made Tony a meal plan, so I can do the same for you... you got any diet restrictions or allergies?"
"I can't do corn," he points out immediately, causing my eyebrow to raise in surprise. "Not allergies. I just can't stomach it," he clarifies.
"No corn. Gotcha," I say, taking a mental note. However, my train of thought is interrupted by a strong hand gripping my shoulder.
"Tryna steal my coach, Roach?" Antonio interjects. Rhyming.
Cameron shakes his head and his dreads move with him, "I was just–"
"Cutting into my training time?" Antonios arm is now swiftly around me, and I swoop from under his grasp.
"Tony, chill. The only person cutting into your training time is you by being perpetually late," I sneer, poking my finger in his face and then turning my attention to give Cameron a warm smile. "Cam, let's talk later."
As I turn to face Antonio again, I notice his stern gaze is fixed on Cameron, who returns to his weight machine, accidentally stumbling over a barbell due to Antonio's unflinching stare.
Do people actually find him intimidating?
He appears more like a man child in a playground, upset about someone meddling with his toy. But I refuse to be anyone's plaything.
