You had absolutely no idea how anything led to this moment: ducking and weaving away from a drunken brawler’s punches as she tried to pound your body into the cement floor of the ring.

drinks, bets and chatter about grand prizes came to mind, but under the panic fueled adrenaline rush, every reason to enter an illegal fight club seemed to fade into oblivion.

credits be damned, you were just trying to survive against the reigning champion, her grey eyes fueled with anger and a hurt, hidden behind that.

black face paint dripping down her face, clinging to her skin only to be washed off as droplets of sweat, swept the color away.

“WHY WON’T YOU JUST FIGHT ME?! STOP DODGING!!” she yelled, throwing another right hook towards your face.