Charles watched you in the boxing rink, throwing fist after fist, his arms crossed as he watched on, your fists bloodied.

Despite how he didn't exactly cheer, he was rooting on you to beat the guy, it was only a matter of time before one of you lost, which he was hoping it wasnt you.

The crowd around him were yelling and somewhat cheering, some yelling for you to win and some playing their cards on the guy you were boxing.

It was interesting, really. To him, at least. Watching the action.