Sammy

"What a fucking day." I sighed, tossing the beaten up boxing gloves into the trash bin near the end of the lockers.

"I'm going to kill that kid." Grayson replied, tossing his own tattered gloves into the trash. Tonight we had pushed our old gloves to the breaking point. Grayson and I liked to spar each other after a long day. It wore us out, yes, but it also helped us sleep better. I wasn't too concerned about throwing this old pair out because we were expecting new shipment in a few days. I wanted the guys to practice with some better equipment before sections.

"Kyle is a fucking idiot, trust me, I know." I sighed, taking a big swig of water.

"He tried to trip me, Sammy. That's a highly illegal move- one we could all get disqualified for in sections." Grayson snapped back. He rarely ever took this tone with me, but today he was rightfully pissed. I had only caught of glimpse of what Kyle had tried, when I was making it out of the back room. As soon as I did, I pulled Kyle out of the ring by his ear and threw him up against the wall.

"If you EVER pull some shit like that in my fucking gym again, you're done. Do you understand?" I bellowed into his face. All that big dick energy Kyle had, immediately disintegrated as he gave me a nod. "I didn't fucking get that!"

"Yes sir." He spoke up, refusing to meet my eye contact.

And that was that. I put him on clean up and a practice bag for the rest of the week. Told him if he didn't like the punishment, he shouldn't bother showing up at all.

I thought I had reacted in a justifiable way, but Grayson didn't mess around when it came to shit like that. He had just gotten back to one hundred percent after a terrible ankle injury that rocked him in every aspect of his life. If Kyle had seriously hurt Grayson, Grayson might have actually killed him.

A week on trash duty was a much better alternative, in my opinion.

"He won't do it again." I told Grayson. And I was sure of that. Regardless of how utterly stupid this kid was, boxing meant a lot to him. He wasn't going to jeopardize that. I think he also realized that I was saving his own ass from what the hell Grayson was surely about to do to him.

"Damn fucking straight he won't. I'm sick and damn tired of these fucking kids, man." Grayson was putting on some deodorant in a last ditch effort to hide the smell of sweat. We were meeting up at Tidal Wave in a few minutes so Grayson could pick up Kassie after her shift. Sometimes Kassie had Chris stay after a bit to help with the clean up... Grayson would never admit it to anyone, but he definitely had a crush on her.

We had showers located in the locker room, but Grayson preferred to take his at home. I gave him a good hose down with my axe spray to help mask the scent a little better. I had to at least do my part, ya know? If I was being honest however, he just smelt like axe and sweat now.

"I know. It's bringing in good money though, so for now, suck it up. I won't any harm come to you, especially not now. I gotta fix that leaky ceiling remember? I need you to cover for me while I get the supplies tomorrow." I replied. Grayson gave me another frustrated groan as he zipped up his gym bag. "You ready? I'm going to bring the ice pack just in case Dante still needs it. That nose is just going to look and feel a hell of a lot worse if he doesn't ice it."

"I don't think the kid's still there." Grayson spoke, joining me in the gym while I locked up the locker room.

"Really? Why do you say that?" I asked.

"I didn't see him when I was there."

My eyes peered over at Grayson. "And when exactly was that?"

Grayson's eye caught mine when he realized he had just exposed himself.

"One hour ago give or take. I needed a beer after what the fuck happened with that shithead."

Well, I appreciated his honesty.

"I'll let this one slide, but you know every calorie counts right now." I reminded him. "Let still check out Tidal Wave. It doesn't hurt to take another look." He joined me out onto the died down streets of New York.

When we made it to Tidal Wave, Grayson's assumption was correct. Chris was still there, helping clean tables. "What's up my peoples, how was work? Can I get you two anything?" Kas welcomed us with a smile when we entered.

"Hey Kassie, hey Chris." Grayson smiled when Chris and him made eye contact. Her cheeks got just a little redder when she returned his greeting. Everyone in fucking New York knew these two liked each other... besides these two. I found it absolutely ridiculous. I gave them both a nod, but when I looked around, there wasn't any signs of Dante.

"Where's the new worker?" I asked Kas. She set a few shot glasses down on the counter and got to pouring.

"I sent him home not too long ago. Chris didn't mind staying behind to help, and I thought it would be best for him to rest. Told him I'd still pay him for the full work day, so he finally reluctantly agreed." Kassie explained. "I noticed you got his nose wrapped up, though. I'd know your work anywhere."

I chuckled at that. Kassie was right. The amount of times I've fixed both her and Grayson up were ridiculous. "Yeah, it wasn't looking good. That's why I was looking for him actually. He left the ice pack at the gym."

"Ah shit yeah, he's going to need that, that's for sure." She replied.

"Does he not have one at home?" I asked. Kas shook her head no.

"He said he tried to use a tequila bottle I think? I know he lives over at those apartments on 88th. You could maybe try walking it over?" She offered.

"Jesus, they haven't torn those down yet? They can't possibly still be livable." Chris cut in, as she joined us for shots.

"Yeah seriously. Totally not livable." Grayson added. Kas and I sent him a look. Grayson was an entirely different person around Chris, I swear.

"I'll take you up on that, yeah. Do you guys mind if I leave you then? I want to hopefully get ahold of him before he retires for the night." I explained, picking up the stuff I had just set down at the bar.

"Oh no worries at all! We'll see you tomorrow!" Kassie called out to me. I gave them all a quick wave before making it back onto the sidewalk.

Chris had been correct in her line of questioning. The apartments on 88th was every type of violation you can think of. Those apartments were built even before Shred It existed. As I made it down a few blocks and walked up the steps of the entrance, my initial opinion only grew stronger. These apartments were just ruins at this point.

There was a directory panel located on the wall, but the buzzer didn't look like it worked, and the list clearly hadn't been updated in years. Instead, I was greeted by one of the management.

"Hello," am old scruffy man spoke as he held the door open for me, "how can I help you?"

I gave him a polite smile. "Hi, I'm here to visit a friend. His name is Dante." I replied. "It doesn't look like his name is listed on the directory."

"Oh! That directory hasn't been updated since the early 2000's. I think I know who you're looking for though, he just moved in. His apartment number is... #422 I believe? Be sure to use the stairs, the elevator isn't working."

I glanced around at the run down lobby.

I don't think this man could tell me the last time the elevator was working. "Thank you." I nodded politely, before making my way to the stairs. #422 I assumed, meant he was up on the fourth floor.

The stairs were old, rickety, and felt like they were going to collapse beneath me as I made my way up. By the time I reached the fourth floor, I was sure I cheated death a total of six times. Luckily they opened up to the end of the hallway which was where Dante's apartment was conveniently located. I lifted my hand up to knock, but hesitated at the last moment.

This wasn't weird, right?

Me just showing up?

What if I had said something to offend him? What makes me think he would even want to see me after that?

I shook those thought from my memory as I finally mustered the courage to knock. There was a bit of a pause before the door finally opened up.

Dante stood in front of me, wearing a loose cotton shirt that showed more muscles than I thought existed. He paired that with some casual joggers. It was interesting not seeing him in work attire.

"Hi." I spoke, breaking the silence that had started to creep its way into this interaction.

"Hi." He replied, with his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

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