The air of the spare room is muggy, almost suffocating with the horrendous ventilation. Muffled cheering is being heard from the center of the basement. Rumbling could nearly be felt through the thing walls and makeshift door. The crowd is rowdy. It's always rowdy the first night. That's something everyone can count on opening night. Rowdy, loud, the entire room filled with excitement to watch desperate people beat the hell out of each other as if their lives depended on it. The excitement of a crowd like that is both accelerating and nerve-wracking.

An indie song SJ isn't familiar with plays from Matty's phone while her hand is stuck out. Mikey wraps the off-white wrap around her hand and wrist, making sure to keep it snug but not enough to cut off her circulation. SJ opened and closed her fist on the opposite hand, as if the movement would disperse the ever-growing nerves.

"Good?" Mikey asks, letting go of her now wrapped hand.

"Good." SJ affirms, opening and closing both fists. Her eyes watch her fist, distant and concentrated.

"SJ," Matty starts. "There is another way."

SJ rests her hands in her lap, narrowing her eyes slightly at Matty. "Yeah? Beg your rents, right?"

"They'll loan you the money." Matty urges.

Mikey hangs his head, shaking it and running his hand through the worn gel of his hair.

"Yeah, they'll loan it to me, Matty and then what? I'll still be in debt to someone."

"Not Ian." Mikey scoffs.

"Look," SJ sighs, standing up and grabbing her gloves. "End result, still the same." SJ's calm as she shrugs her shoulder, Mikey and Matty glancing between each other. "You don't have to be here and I wouldn't blame you if you left." Sj's eyes are solely on Matty for a few seconds. "You either." SJ looks to Mikey. "Not yours, not your shit."

Mikey and Matty both groan, annoyed with their friend but understanding her point of view, Mikey more so than Matty.

"What's that thing you say-" Matty starts.

"You do for family...and sometimes your two best friends...and the homeless guy on ninth." Mikey rolls his eyes but there's a reluctant smirk tugging at his lips.

"Homeless guy has cool stories." SJ laughs and bites her lip.

"Yeah, yeah." Matty says. "Point is, not going anywhere." His eyes are soft with worry but he stands up.

SJ looks at Mikey who's already getting to his feet. "I was never out of it. I disagree with everything you do but I'll be damned if something happens to you and I'm not there to help." Mikey smirks, flicking SJ's forehead. She hisses in pain as a response. "Well, let's go." Mikey laughs, resting a hand on her shoulder.

The three of them make their way down the long, cold hallway, a strange contrast from the room they were in. The ceiling above them produced muffled music and thumping from the club dancers but SJ's focus was on the growing sound coming from the center of the basement. The rumbling of feet hitting the floor grew louder and the cheers escalated. SJ's palms sweat as they got closer and her heart ached in her chest with every step she took. The ringing in her ears is barely noticeable over her nerves.

Confidence doesn't mean the inability to be nervous. It was now or never. She had a shot here. This is her shot and if she wins, she's off the hook. It's a hook she's been dangling on like a catfish, waiting for her cheek either give way or someone to just remove it. One's a death sentence and the other is a hail mary. There is no next year. It's this year and she knows it. Brave face or not, SJ is terrified.

They reach the crowd of people in chairs, some standing from lack of seating, just in time to watch the winner of the second match exit the ring. SJ and Mikey leave Matty to make their way towards the ring, Matty always choosing to just try and find somewhere to stand or sit if they'd choose to stay after SJ was done. Mikey spends a few minutes reassuring SJ, his pep talk not doing much pepping but getting it's point across. "Just don't lose." And before they know it, it's time for SJ to enter the ring.

She goes under the ropes and Mikey stands outside the ropes in her corner with a water bottle, his heart picking up its pace as he's finally allowed to feel nervous for his best friend. But, he maintains a straight face as SJ and the other fighter take their stances. The guy SJ is fighting today is bigger, as they usually are. His veins protrude from his neck and his arms. His muscles are flexed and he's nearing six foot three. The guys is big but, as SJ has found, the bigger the better. She can dodge them easily and they tire out faster. She's faster and she can stay lower, their fists missing her face almost every time.

With the sound of an announcer through an old mic and a bell chiming, the fight begins. SJ's fists block her face and she remains on her toes while the man she's facing swings. He misses and his green eyes darken to a shade of forest green. His teeth grit against his mouth guard as he goes for another jab and SJ dodges. He's one of the smug boxers. New to the game but thinks he's better than everyone around, especially a girl, a girl smaller than him.

The fight continues when SJ sees her opportunity and punches him in the ribs, black and blue glove connecting with tan skin. The man grunts while SJ resumes her position, fists in front of her face. But, the man recovers quick and is on SJ. He lands a few punches to her head. Her vision blurs for a few seconds and the ringing in her ears becoming more noticeable but, with blood dripping from her nose and the wound Matty had stitched up earlier, she recovers. She only recovers long enough for the round to end, declaring your opponent the winner according to the ref.

SJ moves to Mikey for water and a short breather. SJ takes her mouth guard out while Mikey squirts water into her mouth with the water bottle.

"What the hell are you doing, Rocket?" Mikey's eyes are dark and narrowed, jaw squared.

"Winning." SJ retorts when he pulls the water away.

"Looks like you're losing to me." Mikey challenges, putting the water down and grabbing a rag to wipe the blood and a few beads of sweat from her forehead.

"New plan. Trust me." SJ gives him a half-cocked smile before putting her mouth guard back in.

"SJ." Mikey groans through gritted teeth but she's turned away from him, making her way to the center of the ring.

The next round ensues and it's almost the exact same dance, but SJ keeps track of how long the rounds are. She can focus on her opponent and she can count a clock. With less than a minute left, she starts throwing punches, catching the bigger and meaner fighter off guard. Her punches are low first and then come up high. She's punching and dodging at the same time, her eyes trained on the opposite fighter. Her vision is tunneled and while the crowd is cheering and surrounding the ring, the only thing she can see is the fighter. She can't hear anything besides her own breathing. She lands another punch to his face, knocking his head back and the crowd erupts, some pissed and others happy but SJ doesn't notice. It's just this.

And SJ wins the round.

She keeps the half-cocked smile as she walks to Mikey, taking out your mouth guard. Her chest heaves as Mikey squirts the cold water into her mouth, Mikey's eyes narrowed at you.

"Here." He mutters, swapping the water out for the rag to wipe the blood and sweat.

She lets him wipe her face again before she leans in to whisper. "I got this. Chill, would ya?"

Mikey shakes his head, teeth locked together in a mixture of annoyance, anger, and worry. "I swear-"

"Trust me." SJ's eyes are soft as she puts her mouth guard back in and goes to take her place for the final round.

The rumbling of voices bounced and echoed down the long cement hallway of the basement of one of Chicago's many nightclubs. Tom's hands went from fists to flat out, stretching his fingers as he followed a man and his best friend to where the yelling was coming from. Tom held his head with confidence, not needing to see or know about his competition. He's good, and he knows he's good. There's a reason he doesn't lose but the stakes have never been this high before.

Tom was lead through the crowd, able to see the ring in the center of the open basement. Two boxers were moving about the ring, one looking steadier than the other. Tom glanced from the ring and to the man, waiting for him to explain how the night would take place.

"One match after this one, and you're up." The man by the name of Arthur says, his attention on Tom.

"No problem." Tom nods, glancing to his friend, Harrison, and back to Arthur.

"Good." Arthur stifles a chuckle. "You win, you make it to the next round.

"Figured that much." Tom remarks.

Arthur shakes his head, displeased with Tom's comment. "Look," Arthur's strong hand grips Tom's shoulder, making him look into the ring. "She's your competition."

Tom's brows furrow and his eyes widen as SJ's glove connects with the side of her opponent's face. She's a girl, he's not supposed to fight someone of a different gender. That's not very fair and as far as it seems, SJ wouldn't even be in the same weight class. Tom's never fought professionally, it's always been underground for him but there were always strict rules on weight and gender roles. But, those were different competitions than this one. This one is grimy with rules maybe a little too lax.

"That's a girl." Tom points out.

"Yes and she's made it to the championship match these past two years. She would have been close her first year but was kicked out the second we got wind of her being under eighteen. Following year, she was caught. You get caught, you're out." Authur's stare moves to Tom, it's hard and warning, making Tom understand it's a threat to him not to make the same mistake. "She came back and she's beat almost everyone she's been put up against, until the final match. This year she's the one to beat and you," Arthur looks back to Tom. "Are going to beat her."

"Don't think that's much fair, do ya?" Tom questions

Arthur shrugs nonchalantly, a voice starting to echo above them counting down the last seconds. "This isn't fair. That's why the money is good and I do believe you're in need of it, are you not?"

Tom's jaw clenches, glancing back to Harrison whose eyes haven't left the ring. "Yeah." Tom answers shortly.

"Good. So, it's simple," Arthur continues just as SJ was declared the winner of her match. "You win, you're off the hook. You lose," Arthur pauses and a sinister smile just barely graces his face. "I own you."

Trickles of fear run through Tom's blood as he nods. "Got it." Tom says.

"Good." Arthur chuckles, his tone changed to one of cheer and excitement. "Let's get you in one of these rooms and get you ready." Arthur places a hand on Tom's shoulder and leads him back down the long hallway, Harrison walking side-by-side.

Harrison's eyes scan every room they pass, every pipe above them. Tom's distracted with trying to psych himself up for the fight but also not get his ass kicked by Arthur. He's trying not to ruin everything and get himself into more trouble. He needs to listen to whatever Arthur is rambling on about it. It's Harrison's job to look at the building and watch out for whatever he can and he hates the way this place looks.

It looks like a basement that would have been used for the movie Hostile. It's grimy and probably hasn't been cleaned properly since the nightclub above them opened. A few pipes seem to be leaking which Harrison can only hope is just water. Leaking water probably means mold. It's not a good building and given who Arthur is, it only sparks more confusion in Harrison. But, that's not everything that's making him feel uneasy. What if something happens?

In other fights Tom has been in, other competitions, people have been severely injured. People make a run for it while an ambulance is called, if it's that bad. But, looking at where they are and how loud the music above them is, Harrison's best guess is that if something happens, it happens. The person on the ground is just going to hope someone helps them and gets them out of the basement. Tom's been hurt, bad, and so has Harrison when Harrison used to fight, it's unnerving.

"What'd'ya think?" Tom asks, wrapping his hands now that Arthur has left the two to their own for a minute.

"Not a fan." Harrison mumbles.

"Why's that? Fought in worse places."

Harrison shakes his head, his expression pondering. "I dunno. I can't put my finger on it. Seems dangerous."

"Course it does." Tom chuckles. "Always is."

Harrison remains silent, a clear indicator that there's something eating at Harrison's mind. Tom's the talker of the two of them but Harrison tends to speak his mind. He's holding back but based on the curious expression, he's holding back because there really is something just off.

"What?" Tom asks.

"Nothing." Harrison shakes his head. "Just don't lose."

"You got it." Tom smirks, looking back to finishing wrapping his hands.

SJ and Mikey make their way to Matty. Mikey helped SJ clean up the blood from her face and watched the door to make sure no one would come in while she changed back into her street clothes, a pair of black track pants and a hoodie she borrowed from Mikey ages ago. Her bag hung from Mikey's shoulder and Matty pulled SJ in for a hug, congratulating her on the win. But, he was quick tp pull away, wanting to look over her face. SJ rolled her eyes and pulled her face away from his hand.

"Food?" She asks.

"Portillos?" Mikey offers.

"We always go to Portillos." SJ groans.

"What do you suggest then?" Mikey questions.

"We stay here." Matty pipes up, looking to ring behind them.

SJ and Mikey follow his gaze and their eyes land on Tom. His black and red gloves clinging to his fists and his black shorts hanging nicely off his hips. His fists are in front of his face, accentuating his toned arms. Tom's abs are chiseled, even in the horrible lighting and distance, every crevice of his torso is visible. While Tom's hair is messy from the long day, it still seems to lay perfectly, complimenting his face nicely.

"Wipe the drool." Mikey rolls his eyes, staring at his friends.

"Huh?" SJ and Matty sigh simultaneously, looking to Mikey and back to Tom.

"Who's he?" Matty asks.

"Dunno." Mikey says.

"He's cute." Matty says.

"Yeah, that pretty face of his isn't gonna last past this first round." SJ chuckles, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest.

"I think he can pull it off." Matty remarks.

SJ sighs, leaning her head on his shoulder. "You only think that because you think he's cute."

"You only think he won't because you think he's cute." Matty retorts.

"True." SJ shakes her head against Matty's shoulder. "Alright, I gotta a five on me."

"Mikey you in?" Matty asks.

"He'll make it past this round but second one he's out." Mikey says, eyes on the ring.

SJ picks her head up and three shake hands on the petty bet. It's something the three of them have done over the few years they've been involved in the league. If they see a boxer the three don't agree on, they bet whatever they have on them which usually is no more than a ten. It's all out of fun and if one of them needs the money back, it's no worries. Betting between the three, while their reasoning is usually something as petty as the way someone looks, it's fun.

They watch the fight take place, SJ watches every move both boxers make knowing she'll likely be against one of them. While she's betting Tom won't make it out of the match, her focus is divided. She's confident but not stupid. It would be dumb not to watch how her potential opponent performs. It's not all about who can hit the hardest, there's a strategy.

"Fuck me." SJ rolls her eyes, seeing Tom's won the first round.

Mikey snorts. "Can I change my bet."

"Nope, might as well pay up now." Matty holds his head up high.

"You shouldn't be able to bet on someone because you think they're cute." SJ remarks, bitterness in her voice already knowing Tom's opponent doesn't stand a chance anymore.

"That's the exact reason you're against him winning." Matty retorts. "Now sh, enjoy the show."

Mikey and SJ look to each other, trying to conceal their laughter. Their eyes go back to Tom and they both observe the way he moves. SJ watches that Tom's light on his feet, similar to her. He waits for his opponent to get tired. He's thin, not super tall. His arms aren't large. It's his stamina that will win his rounds, just like SJ. But, the way he moves around his opponent is almost like it's dance, calculated and drawn out.

Sj shakes her head as Tom wins the second round, declaring him the winner of the match. That's when he sees her. Tom's eyes went from Arthur who was lightly clapping in approval to SJ. He wasn't looking for her, of course. He just happened to be scanning the crowd and his eyes fell on her with her not being surrounded by people. He flashes her a toothless smile, subtle but a smile nonetheless. SJ rolls her eyes and looks to Matty.

"Get you your money at Portillos." SJ says, jerking her head for them to leave.

Tom brushes off SJ's eye roll, knowing he'll see her again and exits the ring, Harrison helping him to the floor. He only got hit good once but it'd likely only leave him with a bruise across his cheek. Tom's relieved to have his first match done and over with. It wasn't that bad, in fact, if he didn't know any better, he'd say it were easy. However, by the way Arthur speaks and given how much money is being spread around for the championship winner, not including side bets, Tom knows this is only getting started. It's going to get worse so he can't get too far ahead of himself. Stay confident but don't get cocky.

"You alright?" Harrison asks.

"All good." Tom nods, the two of them walking towards the hallway, Arthur meeting them.

"You did well, Holland." Arthur says, taking Harrison's place beside him. "Keep that up and you'll have nothing to worry about."

"No problem." Tom says, confidence in his voice.

"We'll see." Arthur says, a sinister tone just coating his words. "I will see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Tom looks up to him, brows knitted with confusion. "We're off tomorrow."

"I'm aware." Arthur chuckles, squeezing Tom's shoulder. "My assistant will text you with address and you'll both meet me there." Arthur's words don't ease Harrison's previous concern and now Tom's excitement from winning is starting to match Harrison's concern. "It's a good thing, dress for a meeting."

Harrison watches Arthur with careful eyes but doesn't say anything. "We'll be there." Tom assures.

Arthur nods to both boys, congratulating Tom for winning once more before he started making his way down a separate hallway, towards an exit. Tom and Harrison exchanged confusion glances but went on their way to the room they were in previously. Harrison handed Tom his bag, Arthur having instructed the boys not to leave their things unguarded, for him to change into clothes while he worked on getting the two an Uber to take them home.

"What do you think he wants tomorrow?" Harrison asks.

"Fuck if I know." Tom shrugs. "Probably another contract."

"Another?" Harrison questions. "What? Neither of us have the money to sue him as is, fuck's he need this much shit for?"

"Why're you asking me, mate?" Tom groans.

"I just don't trust him." Harrison slides his phone back into his pocket.

Tom nods his head to the side slightly. "Sorry."

Harrison nods, pursing his lips. "It's alright."

"Got you into this." Tom says, guilt taking over the uneasiness he felt about Arthur and the excitement he felt for winning.

Harrison squints, a look of 'oops' crossing his face. "Got you into it first."

There's a smirk tugging at Tom's lips as he rests the wrap beside him. "That mean you're admitting this is your fault?"

Harrison scoffs, a laugh following right after. "No, this is your fuck up still."

"Fuck." Tom chuckles, looking to his beaten up knuckles.

"You ready? Could go for some food?"

"Yeah, yeah." Tom nods quickly, tossing a shirt over his head and grabbing his bag, stuffing the two wraps into an open compartment.

The boys make their way from the room, finding the exit. The walk to the front of the building felt nice against Tom's skin, the chilled breeze of the coming fall cooling him down. The music from the nightclub plays behind them as a black SUV pulls up to the curb. Harrison does the talking to make sure it's their Uber while Tom just looks around, something he didn't do much of with having arrived with Arthur.

There are bars across the street with a few other businesses. People in dressed from hoodies and jeans to short skirts and crop tops walked along the sidewalks as if it's all a regular night to them. Friday nights were just people walking to get their alcohol fix or people just trying to get home. And then there's Tom, bit of a different night compared to everyone else.

Harrison signals for Tom and the two get into the car, Harrison asking just to be dropped off at the McDonald's near their apartment complex. They get dropped off not fifteen minutes later and they get their food, allowing their night to proceed. They go home and follow the same routine. Eat, watch whatever they can find, shower, bed. Friday nights weren't anything special.

The next day rolled around and the morning was slow for SJ. She went to her usual job at the diner a few blocks from Mikey and Matty's house. It might have been Saturday, but there are fewer customers today, most likely from the start of the school year and everyone taking their chance to sleep in. Either way, SJ wouldn't dare complain about a slow morning. If only the early evening could be just as pleasant.

"You're looking...." A main, likely in his late forties starts. "Ravishing." He looks SJ up and down as she pours him a cup of coffee.

She puts on her best fake smile. "Thank you."

The man smiles, a bit too warm for SJ's comfort. "Why don't we get out of here?"

"I'm sorry, sir." SJ's words are soft and kind, but her blood is boiling. "I'm working."

"After." The man says. He says it rather than asks and his face is tinting the softest shade of red.

"I'm not interested. I'm sorry." SJ apologizes again, trying to keep her anger from showing.

"I'll pay you." The man releases a chortle, not making his stare on her any less obvious. He's eyeing her like a piece of meat he owns.

"I'm not a prostitute and I'm still not interested. Go to twenty-fifth and green." SJ directs him to a once popular prostitution spot she's passed a thousand times, hoping it'll get him to leave her alone. The spot is now being used to catch men like this guy. She cannot afford to lose this job, not by telling some asshole off.

"I'd rather get you out of that outfit." He reaches out to hook his fingers between the band of her apron around her waist but she dodges her touch.

"Please, don't touch me."

"C'mon." The man almost growls as he reaches out again but his hand is blocked by someone bigger than SJ.

"Get out or I'll kick your ass right here." Mikey demands, arms crossed over his chest as he looks down at the man. SJ rolls her eyes from behind Mikey but doesn't interrupt.

"Hey, I was having a conversation." The man stands up, standing at the same height as Mikey.

"And I'm telling you to shut the fuck up and move on." Mikey gestures for the door and the man huffs.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Does it look like I give a shit? Can't be anyone too fuckin' important to be eatin' here." Mikey remarks while SJ rolls her eyes again, wishing Mikey would just stop talking.

The man mumbles but pushes past Mikey and leaves, likely realizing that Mikey wasn't going to back down and no one else was going to step in. The man didn't stand a chance and he knew it. SJ was already making her way to the counter, resting the warm pot back in its place. Mikey followed her, taking an empty seat.

"You're not really mad, are you?" Mikey groans.

"You don't have to do that shit." SJ mumbles, attending the register.

"You're my friend."

"I know." SJ says, glancing to Mikey and back to the register. "I can handle myself though." Her tone is soft but bored, getting the point across without snapping.

"I know." Mikey chuckles. "Ready? Need to get going."

"Lemme clock out and I'llbe out there." SJ says, moving from the register and starting to remove her apron.

Mikey nods and the two part ways. SJ goes to the back where she clocks out and goes to her locker, retrieving her belongings. With SJ being one of the diner's longest working and best employees and her picking up holiday shifts, she gets lucky and is able to clock out before six on Saturdays. It's a nice trade-off, especially with the given boxing times for the next few months. Working two legal jobs isn't exactly easy but throw in another one that almost no one can know about it, that's just hard. It's trying to explain to bosses why she can't work after a certain time and only on Fridays and Saturdays and only for a few months. It always seems weird but she always bullshits that it's something and they don't question it. It's always better not to question. What they don't know, can't hurt them.

SJ came out from the back, her black and blue backpack clinging to her shoulders. She waves to her manager before exiting the small diner and meeting Mikey who's straddling his motorcycle. SJ lets out a soft laugh as she approaches him.

"Got it running?"

"No bike or car I can't fix. Here." Mikey says with a proud grin, handing SJ a helmet to match the black and blue backpack.

"Black and blue?" SJ quirks a brow.

"It's like your signature." His eyes widen jokingly as he points to her hair. With Matty getting his cosmetology license, he's been doing her hair. For the moment, she's chosen thin blue streaks to compliment her naturally dark hair.

"Fair." SJ shrugs, putting the helmet on before getting on the bike. Her arms wrap tightly around Mikey's waist before Mikey gets them on their way to the gym.

Meanwhile, Tom and Harrison were seated at a nice restaurant on a different side of the city. This restaurant, in contrast to the diner SJ works at, had black and white accent pieces through the entire place. The tables are black and sleek, clearly made of expensive wood. The chairs are all white and almost so comfortable anyone could fall asleep. White candles decorated every table and recessed lights complimented the all black ceiling. The entire restaurant read modern and expensive.

However, the look and feel of the restaurant didn't ease Tom's or Harrison's nerves. They've met with Arthur two other times for dinner or a lunch or a breakfast. Once was for Tom to borrow money and the other was to sort out the boxing agreement when Tom couldn't pay Arthur back. Both of those meetings weren't exactly good so it's only right that the two of them have their guard up. But, what really has them suspicious is the two other men sitting with them. They're dressed in black and navy suits, both in their fifties and looking very similar to Arthur. Business.

"These are the two I was telling you about." Arthur says to the men, gesturing to Tom and Harrison.

"Arthur's spoke highly of the both of you. You've seemed to be doing his company quite well where you stand." One of men compliment.

"We're just doing our jobs, sir." Tom says, nodding his head.

"Richard." The man corrects him. "What exactly are the both of you doing right now?"

"We're just doing the filing and keeping everything organized," Harrison explains.

The other man chuckles, looking to Arthur. "They're more like your assistants."

Arthur shrugs. "I couldn't have them be out doing the real business just yet."

"Mmm," Richard hums, eyeing Tom and catching glimpses of a bruise decorating his cheek. "Understandable."

Tom's brows furrow but he quickly relaxes his face, choosing not to pay much attention to the man's words. There's something eating at the pit of Tom's stomach. Of course, when him and Harrison took up the job with Arthur, both of them didn't have a good feeling about him. There always seemed to be something off, not quite right but it was a job and a nice one, it's one that could lead them to a life of success and good fortune if they play their cards right. But, now, sitting with these other men, Tom is questioning if he ever had any cards to play.

"Well, we'll be in touch." The man Tom and Harrison never caught the name of says while he shakes Arthur's hand.

"I look forward to your call." Arthur says, shaking Richard's hand. Arthur, Tom, and Harrison watch the two men leave before any of them start talking. "They're investors."

"Why did you have us meet with you and two investors?" Tom asks.

"You'll find out." Arthur answers, sending Tom a quick glare. "Now, you're both going home to change. There's a car out front for you and you're going to this gym." Arthur hands Tom a piece of paper with an address and information on the gym.

"We have a gym." Harrison says.

"You have a new one." Arthur says. "I will know if you go or not so don't try anything stupid, understand?" Arthur warns, his green eyes darkening with venom.

"Yeah." Tom says, with a single nod. Arthur looks to Harrison and Harrison nods in agreement.

"I'll see you both tonight, then." Arthur says.

"Alright." Tom says and him and Harrison get up to leave.

They make their way outside where, just as Arthur had said, there is a car waiting for them. They get in and without instruction, they're brought to their apartment complex. The ride was quiet, Tom and Harrison not wanting to speak inside one of Arthur's vehicles. Arthur might have told Tom that if he loses, he'll own Tom but if Tom didn't know any better, he'd say he was already owned. Arthur is demanding he train at a gym without a second thought, Tom has to compete in this competition, he needs to meet for dinner with men he isn't aware of and still work for Arthur. Harrison has to come with. It feels like Tom is already being owned and it's filling him with anxiety but also more determination to win and get the fuck away from whatever this is.

They quickly got changed from the dress attire and got their things ready. While Tom and Harrison were set to make their way to the new gym, SJ was at the gym, helping Mikey. They moved around the ring, SJ had the punching mitts on her hands while Mikey was throwing the punches. Beads of sweat dripped down his face and his breathing labored. Soft grunts fell from Mikey's mouth as SJ lead them about the ring.

"Breathing a bit heavy, Mikey." Matty chortles as he walks up to the ring.

"Fuck off, Mat." Mikey grunts as he punches SJ's mitt.

"He's not wrong." SJ chuckles before Mikey lands another punch.

"Fuck off." Mikey grits his teeth.

"Well, come on then." SJ taunts. "Put some fuckin' muscle in your punches then. I could punch harder than this when I was ten." Mikey throws another punch, SJ winces with the hit. "Okay, ow."

Mikey smirks, continuing his hits until they're once again interrupted.

"SJ, Mikey." A voice pulls their attention. SJ's second boss, Maurice, grabs their attention as he's walking up to them, two people with him and one looking far too familiar. "Like you to meet two new members." He gestures to Harrison and Tom.

SJ could almost feel her head explode with the sight of Tom. She doesn't interact with any other boxer. Most of them don't and none of them train at this gym. It's part of why she picked this gym to apply for a job. Free membership and it distances herself from her competition but now, she's face-to-face with someone she knows is going to be a pain in her ass to beat.

Oh, fuck me.