Someone might as well have been playing the Cutting Crew at the moment because the minute your fist hit the man's face, he was enamoured. Boxing had always been a lesser known interest of his, just the idea that you could beat someone up and get paid for it or that it brought attention to the fact that giving and receiving punches wasn't as easy as Hollywood made it out to be. The cramped ring left barely enough room for onlookers who wanted to watch the fight and that left him awkwardly amused between two people who in his opinion cheered too loudly. Though he figured if he was a more vocal person, he might've given a call of encouragement for you as well after watching you knock out nearly three people in a row. Cash was traded, people swore, and people yelled in anger. He'd yet to bet against you and at the moment he'd made back far more than what it had cost to get into the underground fighting ring.

He watched you grab a towel and wipe your face and hair as you made your way out of the ring, a sheen of sweat on your skin as you made your way through the crowd. Though your absence seemed barely noticed as another duo pushed and shoved to get into the ring, more than eager to trade punches. He ignored the new duo and began attempting to make his way over to you in an attempt to strike up a conversation. After a few seconds of forcing his way through the small mob, he got close enough and tapped your shoulder. He went to talk and promptly forgot anything he had wanted to ask or talk to you about, merely looking over your face a couple times as he attempted to actually say something instead of standing there with his mouth open like a codfish. Eventually he forced himself to say the next thing that came to mind which happened to just be a- "Hi."