Tom is almost visibly holding his breath. He's just waiting for SJ to say something snarky, pushy him away from her just something but she does nothing. She says nothing. The only sounds surrounding them were those of the city and club. Tom barely knows her name, and by barely, he doesn't even know what the hell her name stands for so it really isn't his wisest decision to be sitting outside in the middle of the night with his competition. 

He shouldn't be doing it because he doesn't know what she'll do or say, or worse, what Arthur will do or say if he sees them. Arthur hasn't said anything about Tom getting to know other boxers or dating or messing around with people but by the man's demeanor and strictness on where Tom can even train, Tom can bet Arthur wouldn't be happy.

So why is he even bothering?

"Hey." Tom finally breaks the silence.

SJ looks away from him, leaning her head against the brick wall. "Hey."

"You alright?" Tom asks and SJ swears his accent is stronger than it was earlier.

She looks to him and he looks tired. Damp hair, curls popping from under his hood, blue and yellow decorating his face, and traces of blood stains near his nose. He looks tired.

"I'm fine." SJ says, looking away from him.

"Are you sure? You can-"

"What?" SJ scoffs. "Tell you about whatever may or may not be wrong?"

SJ's quick response and suddenly snappy tone catches him off guard. "Well...yeah. If you wanted."

"Competition." SJ mumbles. "Wouldn't tell you anyway, how I am, just for the record."

Tom sighs. "Why's it matter that we're competition?"

SJ resituates, crossing her legs and looking Tom up and down. "Underarmor hoodie, what're those? Hunder'd dollar NIKE's, right?" Tom looks down to his shoes with her words before she continues. "Your hair still lays pretty nice which means you probably use decent product. That means you're in the beauty industry which is doubtful or you spend some nice money on it. American Crew? Woody's? Big Sexy? Those are at least the professional ones that aren't insanely expensive. Your pants look to be brand new, three strips, Adidas, right? Your accent is still incredibly thick which means you probably haven't lived here very long."

"Okay." Tom shakes his head, a knot forming in his stomach as he senses where she's headed with this, looking over her own attire.

A plain black hoodie that's clearly a bit faded and a little too big, track pants with a few paint stains and a brand logo Tom doesn't recognize. Her hair has the blue stripes but he's not sure the cost. Her nails aren't done and maybe that's just because it'd be hard to keep up with her boxing or maybe she can't afford to have them done. She has on a pair of NIKEs but they look like she's been wearing them for years. Their financial standpoints are very different.

"You can afford to lose. I can't. You can afford to maybe get distracted. I can't. You're cute. I'm not stupid."

Tom wants to argue with her but, truthfully, he can't because she makes a good point. He grew up with money. He did have a trust fund. He blew nearly every single penny but he still has a job. Arthur doesn't take the money from his paychecks because of taxes but he definitely has Tom pay him back some of the money later. He leaves Tom with enough to live comfortably. FRom what Tom knows, SJ has to work two jobs and if she's here, she's barely making it. He doesn't want to lose because he's afraid of what Arthur has planned but if it weren't for Arthur, Tom could afford to live without this money. And that's just what SJ is willing to tell him.

"I'm sorry." Tom apologizes, his voice soft and genuine.

"You're sorry?" SJ asks, clearly taken aback. She's never heard of anyone apologizing for having money.

"I can't afford to lose but not for money reasons, you're right. I should have thought it through."

SJ's face contorts as she looks over his facial features. Why was he being nice? Apologizing for something SJ knows he can't actually control much of? Something she knows damn well she's just bitter about? Maybe he's got it a little harder than she thought.

"Are you just saying that to get me to like you?" SJ asks, voice a little airy and amused.

"Depends," Tom says, a playful smile coming to his face. "Is it working?"

"No." SJ laughs, shaking her head but her eyes are soft when she looks at him. "You're endearing but no, it's not working."

"I'm going to make it hard for you not to like me." Tom remarks, smile dangling at the corner of his lips.

SJ was going to respond but her attention was pulled to a man dressed in a black suit. Her eyes went wide like a deer in headlights as her mouth fell open at the sight of the man. They were looking for the wrong person.

"Uh...Mr. St. Claire." SJ says, glancing between him and Tom.

"Witter." Arthur says flatly.

"You're right," SJ whispers to Tom as she goes to get up. "You can't afford to lose."

The banter is fun and for a second, SJ was thinking that she could play into Tom's game a little. She could use her own charm, maybe convince him that he'll have next year. LEt her have this year. Of course, SJ wants to win because she's the best but this isn't to win some medal to show off to everyone. It's blood money. She will lie, cheat, steal, and scam if that's what it takes and if batting her eyelashes would get Tom to let her win, she'd be all for it. But, now that she really knows who Tom is working for, her intelligence and experience won't let her do that. She'll find another way that doesn't involve her asking. It'd be a waste of breath.

Tom watches her get to her feet, expression changing to one of uncertainty. How the hell would she know who Arthur is? And what fuck does she mean? Tom is finding himself with more questions the longer he talks to SJ and he's only talked to her twice. He racks his brain for any type of clue or answer but he's coming up blank. She makes no sense. A walking Rubix cube.

"What's that-"

"I gotta dip, Pretty Boy." SJ sighs giving him an apathetic look before walking back to the front of the building where she's hoping Mikey and Matty will be waiting for her.

Tom gets to his feet, feeling all the more confused but his expression quickly changes when he starts approaching Arthur. Arthur looks like he's about to have an aneurysm which cannot be good on Tom's end.

"What the fuck was that?" Arthur says and his voice is scarily quiet given the death-like-glare he's giving Tom.

"Was just talkin' to her." Tom shrugs nonchalantly.

The corner of Arthur's lips curl into something only reeking of sinister intent. He grips the fabric of Tom's hoodie on his shoulder, pulling him with him as they walk. "You do nothing without my say. You speak to no one from here without my say. Do you understand?"

If Tom could bite his tongue, he would have nodded along but, Tom's a fighter.

"Why would you send Haz and me to the same gym, then?" Tom snarks.

Without a word, Tom is thrown into the wall, passersby ignoring the scene while Tom hisses in pain. "To observe her you insufferable, moron."

"I'm not a moron." Tom grits his teeth, his jaw squaring and nostrils flaring.

Arthur huffs, letting out a dry chuckle. "Morons get themselves into debt. That's you, Holland." Tom looks away, gathering that maybe it's best he just shuts his mouth for once. "Now, what did she say?"

"Nothing." Tom says dryly.

Arthur smiles before gripping Tom's hoodie and slamming him against the wall once more. "What did she say? I'm not asking again."

"Fuck." Tom groans, head starting to throb. "Nothing." Tom insists and for the life of him, he doesn't know why in the moment. "She doesn't wanna fuckin' talk to me. Was just asking if she was alright."

Arthur releases his grip, Tom slouching slightly. "Did you tell her anything?"

Tom's brows pull together in a state of wondering. "Tell her anything about what?"

"Stay away from her. You observe her and that is it unless I tell you otherwise. Understand?" Arthur points his long, chubby finger in Tom's face.

"Yeah, got it." Tom says, a mix of emotions falling into his voice.

"Good boy." Arthur pats the side of Tom's face making Tom's skin crawl with the two words that leave Arthur's mouth. "I'll see in the office on Monday."

Tom nods and watches as Arthur leaves him to himself. He takes in a few deep breaths, allowing the wall to support his weight. No one has ever stared Tom down like the way Arthur had. Tom was almost certain Arthur was ready to start beating the hell out of him for a second, or worse. Arthur, while a nice looking man who seems to be well put together and even kind to those who don't know better, is horrifying. Tom never realized just how horrifying until just now. He's gotten himself in too deep but there's nothing he can do. It's too late to turn back and his stomach turns with the thought. What is Arthur going to do with Tom if he loses?

Tom goes to push off the wall as his name is being called. Harrison moves to him, look of worry consuming his face knowing Tom didn't get hit too hard. He places a hand on Tom's shoulder but Tom brushes him off.

"You alright?" Harrison asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Tom says as he starts walking.

"Tom," Harrison catches up. "What'd she say? What's she do?"

"She didn't say or do anything, Haz." Tom says, stuffing both hands into the front of his pocket. "Just another boxer, 's fine." Tom shrugs it off, lightly nudging Harrison with his shoulder.

Tom tells Harrison everything. It's part of what keeps them close. Tom tells him everything and Harrison tells Tom everything. It's how they've always worked but, after Tom started getting mixed in with the wrong people, he would hold off on telling Harrison certain details, as Harrison did with him when Harrison was in a similar position. What either of them doesn't know, can't hurt them. Harrison already has his reservations with Arthur and Arthur getting angry enough to slam Tom against a wall, there's more to that. Tom doesn't need Harrison worrying more and digging into it. Harrison has the habit of digging into things he should just leave alone.

"Shouldn't we ring an Uber?" Harrison asks as they get further away from the club.

Tom glances to him and shrugs a shoulder. "Figured we'd just walk it if ya wanted."

"You wanna walk?" Harrison asks, voice littered in confusion.

"It's not that far." Tom protests.

"Okay, yeah, sure. We'll walk." Harrison drops it.

Harrison knows something is up. Boxers threaten Tom all the time and he always finds a way to just walk away, laughing it off even if there's blooding gushing from his nose. It's just who he is and how he is. He doesn't let any competition faze him, not outwardly. That would give them exactly what they want and Tom doesn't cave that easily. But, what is Harrison supposed to do? Argue with him? It wouldn't do him any good. If Tom isn't telling him something, it's for his own good.

"But," Harrison starts. "She did turn you down, right?"

Tom sighs, readjusting the hood on top of his head. "Yeah." Tom says but Harrison can see the forming smile coming to Tom's face.

"Please," Harrison starts, closing his eyes for a few seconds. "Just keep it in your pants this one time."

Tom chuckles softly. "Yeah."

"Dude, I'm serious." Harrison says, losing the airy tone of his voice and gaining Tom's full attention. "Arthur said if you fuck up, it's my ass, too. Not you just yours. Can't control you but...just keep your shit together, ya?"

Tom nods. "Got it." Tom's voice is filled with a soft annoyance, some towards Harrison but most of it towards Arthur. They might be friends and Tom should have expected this because this is what happens. It's never just one of them on the line. It's the two of them. Common knowledge is to go after someone they care about, someone close. But it never stops pissing Tom off. "I'll hold off until after this."

Harrison starts laughing. "You can go fuckin' wild after this if you want and she's down."

"Girls have never distracted me before, though." Tom counters, just to point out his previous track record.

"You've never competed against them and this much hasn't been on the line. You've shit luck so she'd be the one to distract you."

"I get it." Tom groans, ending the conversation between them.

While Tom and Harrison made their way home, SJ found herself back inside the basement of the club. She met back up with Mikey and Matty who were right where she had left them. There were still plenty more fights left and while SJ was confident she could beat them, she did need to stay to watch at least a few fights to see what she's up against. That was the plan for the night anyway but after seeing who Tom is really working for, all she wants to do is leave and figure out a new plan. But, she doesn't voice it.

She can't immediately tell Mikey and Matty that it's Arthur. They'll start freaking out with every conspiracy in the book and she's just too tired to deal with it. Arthur has been known to have insanely good boxers but, if they lose, they all seem to just...disappear. There's only been one that has shown up here and there but the rest all seem to just drop off the face of the earth. SJ might be mixed up with someone she shouldn't be but at least if he snaps and kills her, her body will be found. No one really knows what Arthur does with the boxers who lose or even how they get involved, but what everyone does know is that Arthur is a scary dude. But, that comes with the fact he's untouchable. One of Chicago's biggest CEO's. He has the cops wrapped around his fingers. Untouchable.

"Haven't seen Romano." Mikey says as the next fight starts to take place.

"Maybe we're wrong." SJ plays coy.

"Do you have another name in mind?" Mikey looks down to her.

"Do you?" SJ counters, looking back to him.

Mikey sighs. "Yeah, but I didn't see him."

"You weren't looking, Mikey." SJ states. "I could be wrong. Maybe it's just a coincidence."

Matty looks to SJ and then to Mikey, the two of them seeming to share the same thought. "You never say you're wrong."

"I said could and maybe." SJ points out, holding a finger up.

Matty chuckles. "Why's it matter anyway?"

SJ shrugs. "I just like to know what I'm up against, Matty." SJ states but it's almost like a plea for Matty to just leave it alone. "Now, we gotta watch otherwise I'll get fuckin' rocked eventually. Strategy."

"Right, right." Matty sighs, quickly raising his brows and showing a look of disapproval but not bothering to dig any deeper.

The three of them watch the next few fights, SJ keeping track of who wins and who loses and exactly what they do in the ring just as she did with Tom the first night she'd watched him. Seeing that Tom is working with Arthur might have caught her off guard and it might have shaken her a bit but watching other boxers is a good distraction. It keeps her mind occupied and keeps her on her toes. She likes to figure out what their next move will be and how she could use it to her own advantage when she goes against them.

After the fourth fight, the group of three decided to head home. It was late and Mikey and SJ had to work in the morning. It was Matty's turn to call them an Uber home which SJ was happy about because unfortunately for her, her tips from earlier that day were anything but good.

"Staying with us tonight?" Matty asks and they stand outside the club.

SJ groans. "No," She rolls her eyes. "Travis is by himself tonight so I should go home."

"What happened to Charlotte?" Mikey asks.

"She was called into work, apparently." SJ sighs, tugging her hair down from her ponytail.

"What's he gonna say?" Maty asks, pointing to SJ's bruised face.

SJ chuckles, shrugging dramatically. "What he can't prove, won't kill him."

Mikey laughs and shakes his head. "Tell us how that goes for you." Mikey's words drip in sarcasm.

"Will do." SJ states, throwing him finger guns.

The Uber pulls up seconds later and the three get in, directing them to the two different locations on the two streets apart. It's past midnight but SJ watches the city lights shine bright through the SUV with her head against the window. Chicago has its ups and downs, sometimes more downs than ups, but something she'll always love is how pretty the lights are at night. Of course, she knows it doesn't look much different compared to other cities but this one is her home so it's different. It's a little comforting even with the weight of the world resting on her shoulders.

SJ is first to be dropped off and while she really doesn't mind living with Travis, she's dreading going back inside. She hates lying to him. He lied to her and her parents and everyone and it just lead to all of them getting completely fucked over. She's his younger sister and she's not supposed to make the same mistakes. As a younger sibling, she's supposed to learn from him but lying to him about everything she does, that's setting herself for making a similar mistake. But, the consequences he could endure if she told him, it's not worth it. It's bad enough Mikey and Matty know but she won't let Travis know. She can't watch him get hurt again.

"Need a ride tomorrow?" Mikey asks.

"That'd be great, yeah." SJ says as she hops down from the SUV.

"Time?"

"Gotta be there by eight."

"Pick you up by seven-thirty." Mikey says while Matty takes over SJ's seat.

She gives him a thumbs up before turning to go up the walkway to her house, Matty shutting the door before they drive away. She takes a deep breath as she climbs the stoop steps to her faded blue door with chipping paint. She digs out her black painted key from her bag and unlocks the door, trying to be quiet. Travis tends to be asleep by eleven and the last thing she wants to do is wake him up.

As she walks through the house, she uses her phone's flashlight. If she flips on any of the hall or living room lights, she's likely to wake up Travis. So, she creeps through the dark home and up the stairs to her bedroom. Her bag goes gently to the floor as she steps inside, turning on her light.

The room illuminates to show white walls with a few posters of marine life, all of them with small descriptions about whatever is on the poster. A desk rests by the window, a few sharpened pencils sticking out of a mason jar beside her desk lamp. A few books rest on the opposite corner and off-white blinds cover the window. A black and blue comforter falls over her full sized bed and a few medals and small trophies hang and rest from a shelf above her bed. It's not much, but it's hers.

SJ walks to her dresser on the opposite side of her room and grabs a pair of pajama pants, ones decorated with penguins. She opts for her own hoodie with a local band logo scribbled on the fabric on the upper left. She grabs the clothing and makes it for the shower that's luckily right across from her bedroom. SJ allows the warm water to wash away everything from that night, taking deep breaths. Blue spills around her feet as she brushes shampoo through her hair. The only downside to letting Matty color her hair. She wraps her hair in a large towel while drying off with another. SJ follows her normal routine of washing her face and getting her hair down, not bothering to blowdry it with the late hour.

SJ makes her way back downstairs and to the kitchen where she's able to eat and use the lights. She searches the cabinets to see hardly any food. A whispered groan comes from her throat as she just opts for off-brand Frosted Flakes with the last of the milk. She pours her cereal and hops onto the counter, taking her seat while her feet swinging softly. She's comfortable eating her cereal in silence, just being by herself and sitting beside the fridge but that wouldn't last long.

"What are you doing?"

SJ jumps with the sudden voice, spilling a little bit of milk to the floor. "Warn a person!" SJ yells, looking over to Travis who was coming in from the living room. "Did I wake you up?"

Travis shakes his head. "I was up. You got me hooked on The Walking Dead."

SJ smirks. "Who's dead?"

"Fuck off." Travis rolls his eyes. "Where have you been?"

"Mikey and Matty's." SJ says, shoving a spoon full of cereal into her mouth.

Travis nods. "Not...ya know, fighting again." Travis crosses his arms as his voice turns from one of joking to one of knowing and disappointment.

"Nope." SJ says, popping the 'p'.

"Why is your face bruised?" Travis challenges.

SJ shrugs. "How does someone's face get bruised, Travis?"

"So, you are fighting?"

"Your insipid questions are wasting the air I so desperately need for survival." SJ remarks, taking another bite of food.

"What would dad say?" Travis says and it takes everything in SJ not to combust in pure annoyance.

"Why don't you ask him?" SJ retorts, eyes boring into Travis.

"You're not funny."

"Not trying to be." SJ puts her bowl down and hops down from the counter. "Not fighting so why don't you just go to bed and text me if you need shit." SJ snarks as she starts rinsing her bowl.

Travis scratches under his nose, shaking his head. "Char is staying tomorrow."

"I'll be at Mikey and Matty's then." SJ says, starting to move past him but he grabs her arm.

"You can stay here."

SJ scrunches her face. "I love Char but I'd rather not be here with the two of you. I'm only here because you can't live alone." Travis looks at her with wide eyes, clearly ready to fight back. "It's true and I don't mean it as an insult. If it were up to me, I would be on my own by now but you do for family so I stay when Char isn't here and you're not with her. Nothing personal." SJ pulls her arm free and heads for the stairs.

"Sarah!" Travis yells after her but SJ ignores him.

Sj goes back to her room, shutting the door and locking it behind her. She takes in a few deep breaths, regretting even eating in the kitchen. She loves her brother, it's who she has but he has a way of pushing her buttons and every time she looks at him, she's reminded of what he put them all through. Everything she does is her decision but that doesn't stop her from putting some of the blame onto him. Had he not lied, she wouldn't have gotten into this. She wouldn't have a record. Nothing. But he lied. And now she's stuck here because you do for family.

SJ takes a seat at her desk and reaches under the table top where there's a key taped. She gets the key and unlocks the bottom drawer, pulling out an old notebook with coffee stains over the blue cover. She opens to a spare page but before she can start, her phone starts ringing.

"Hello?" SJ says into the phone, annoyance in her voice.

"Do you have my money?" SJ rolls her eyes, pulling the phone from her head to see it's Ian's caller ID.

"I just got home a-"

"Money or not?" Ian demands.

"Would you fucking chill, man? You're getting your fuckin' money this week. I haven't gotten it yet. It's not always instant."

"I want it by Friday."

"You will have it by Friday, just like last time."

The line goes dead and SJ just stares at her phone before putting it beside her notebook. She stares at her closed blinds before grabbing a pencil. The pencil taps as she thinks. Ian is snipping this year, impatient as all hell. She already knew it's do or die with this year's competition but the urgency and rage of Ian's voice just confirmed it. SJ needs to play dirty and she knows exactly how she'll do it.