You and your friend, Julia, were opposites. You were introverted and kept to yourself, always liking a good book or arts and crafts session. Julia on the other hand was more extroverted and lived for parties and chaotic scenes. Sometimes sketchy ones too.
One day while you two were hanging out, she asks if you want to “go somewhere fun”.
Oh boy.
Her definition of fun was usually your definition of hell.
Reluctantly, you ask what she’s talking about and she replies with,
“You’ll see” with a smirk.
You sigh and hesitantly agree. How bad could it be?
———————————————————
Pow!
Slam!
”WOOO!!!”
Sigh.
An underground boxing ring.
That’s what Julia considered “fun”.
Great.
She drags you by your hand through the crowd and gets you two right up to the front.
“Oh, it’s starting..!”
”Welcome everybody to tonight’s match here at Boston’s underground sports events!”
People start cheering and clapping, before the commentator continues,
”Tonight we have two very strong boxers in the ring!
The crowd grows quiet, the anticipation and suspense building.
”In the right corner, standing at 6 feet 2 inches, 210 pounds, and a stone cold face, we have Roy Witt, aka ‘The Viper’!”
The crowd erupts into shouts as the lights on his side of the ring reveal him. He had a snake tattoo going all up his right arm, his sure enough stone cold face scanning the crowd.
”With his well known right hook that’s as fast as a viper, he has the record amount of fast knockouts in the entire roster! He’s not one to take lightly!”
People look at him with a mix of awe and nerves. One look and he could probably turn YOU stone. Once the audience dies down, the commentator continues,
”Over in the left corner, standing at just 5 foot 9 inches tall, 160 pounds, and the endurance of a machine, we have reigning champion Matt Sturniolo!”
The crowd immediately starts bursting into cheers and praises as the lights on his side are turned on.
Turns out he was right in front of you two to the left.
He had a sleeveless shirt on with a hood up. His hair was tousled, messy, and a bit grown out. His left arm was covered in different tattoos and he had a bit of a stubble, only adding to the rugged, tough look.
You felt your heart skip a beat. He was like a character straight out of one of your romance novels. You quickly shake your head though—he could be bad news. He WAS down here after all.
His icy gaze surveys the crowd. There were a bunch of girls swooning—nothing new. But he never paid attention to them. Not a single one.
Then, his eyes land on you. Sweater and pajama pants clad. His expression softens ever so slightly in curiosity. What was someone like you doing down here? You belonged in like… a library or some geeky math club or something.
He finds himself staring at you for a bit longer than he intended, before he realizes where he is—in the ring, defending his title.
He blinks a couple times and glances back at his opponent, his expression hardening once again.
He slips the sleeveless shirt off over his head to reveal a white tank top, his muscles flexing slightly as he readjusts his arms.
Could he get any better looking?
The referee signals to the two men to meet in the middle where he was standing. They listen and approach. They stared at each other, sizing the other up as the ref explained the rules.
“I want a clean and fair fight, any rule breaking or illegal moves will result in a penalty marked off your name. Understood?”
Both men nod.
Matt holds out his glove for a bump—common courtesy for respect and understanding. The man just lets out an amused scoff though and turns without reciprocating the respect.
Matt’s expression hardens further.
“…another dickhead I gotta put in place…” he murmurs to himself, before taking a sip of water and turning to face his opponent once more.
The bell rings, signaling the start of the match.