Music blared through Tom's earbuds, loud and throbbing helping him block out everything around him. His gloved fists connected with the large bag hanging from the ceiling while grunts and heavy breaths fell from his lips. His chest heaved as he stayed on his toes, eyes focused and trained, readying himself for his first match in the new city. His arms flexed with every hit he took and damp curls fell onto his forehead with beads of wet falling down his face. Determination radiated from him.
That's the thing. Determination always radiated from him when he's in the ring or training. He's always focused and keeps his eyes open, always on alert. He's won match after match after match back in England but that never stirred any of his focus or determination to win. He's confident in what he does but it doesn't go to his head. Of course, Tom can have an ego, one would have to in order to win as much as he does but it's always confidence, not arrogance. That's just how he is.
A tap on Tom's shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts, his fist nearly colliding into his best friend.
"Can you watch it? Scared the fuck outta me." Tom groaned, ripping the white wire from his ears with his glove.
Harrison chuckled with a one-shoulder shrug. "Turn your bloody music down and you won't have that problem."
Tom's eyes roll as he undoes the strap of his glove with his teeth. "What time is it?" Tom questions, realizing Harrison isn't supposed to be at the gym until it was time to leave.
"Just after five." Harrison says, handing Tom his water. "We gotta head out."
"Already?" Tom's brows raised before he squirted water into his mouth.
"Yeah, Arthur wants you to see your competition first."
"Why?" Tom presses.
"No clue. Do you wanna ask him?" Harrison scoffs.
Tom shakes his head knowing too well that Arthur isn't one who likes being questioned. "I'm good." Tom chuckles.
"Nervous?" Harrison eyes him, watching Tom's finger tap on the top of the bottle.
"Nah," Tom shakes his head. "It'll be like every other time."
Harrison doesn't respond for a few seconds, allowing the air to stiffen between the friends. "Yeah, sure." Harrison agrees but his words are unconvincing.
Tom's competed in plenty of different cities and the only thing any of the competitions have in common is that the rules are sure to be different. Tom doesn't know exactly what or who he's up against. He's not sure of the rules or regulations. Arthur has just told him this is the only way to repay him. This competition. He wins, the slate is clean and Tom is free. Tom loses, and well, it won't be very pretty for Tom. That's it. That's all either boy knows and it's only slightly unsettling. At least with every other competition Tom has competed in, he's aware of the rules and regulations, even a basic guess as to who he'd be up against at least a few days before the fights started. Not this time, however. Tom feels like he's going in blind and Harrison feels like he's the blind leading the blind. It's a mess.
"Convincing." Tom remarks.
Harrison groans. "I just wish I had more information to give you so you could be prepared."
"I'll be alright." Tom grins, holding his head high.
Harrison sighs, shaking his head as a smile comes to his face. "Alright, let's get back and you can shower. We'll head to the office after. We've to be there by six so you gotta make it quick."
Tom nods and gathers his things, following Harrison out of the gym. He's nervous for what's to come but saying he's not, makes him believe he's not. Tom sometimes can hold the 'fake it till you make it' attitude when it comes to nerves. Pretend he's not nervous and eventually, the nervousness fades away and he can turn it into strength and willpower. He can only hope that attitude will help him tonight especially with Arthur betting on him. It's a good thing he has a few hours to turn his nerves into excitement.
-
The familiar taste of iron trickled through your mouth. Your hands gripped the edge of the bathroom counter as your legs dangled and music played through the bathroom. The counter is cold, a nice contrast to your warm hands. There's a soft ringing in your ears, only slightly distracting you from the ache of your face and ribs. Just slightly.
"Ow, fuck off Matty!" You hiss as your friend tried cleaning the wound that was still partially bleeding.
"Shut up. Do you want it infected?" Matty snaps.
"No." You grumble. "But you could, I dunno, warn a person."
"I did. Did you not hear me?" Matty rolls his eyes going back to cleaning your face.
"Apparently, not." You mumble against him, your breath brushing against the exposed skin of his arms. The stinging continues as he dabs the alcohol covered gauze across the gash at the top of your hairline. "It's a good thing you dropped med school." You narrow your eyes.
"Damn straight because your hair would be just as fucked as your face if I didn't." Matty pulls away, cocking his head to the right, snark in his words. "For the record though, I'm still certified so shut up."
You sigh and let him continue to clean the wound. He finishes and moves onto the looking your nose. You wince as his delicate fingers feel around the outside and then move to the bridge. Pressure under your skin builds with every soft touch of his fingers and you wince every few seconds.
Matty stops for a few seconds, a scolding expression boring into your bored one. "I don't think it's broken."
"There's a plus." You let out a sigh of relief.
"Why?" Matty lets out a dry chuckle. "It'll be broke by the end of the night anyway." He hands your a wash rag to start cleaning the dried blood under your nose.
"Have a little faith, will ya, Matty?" Your voice changes to one of a teasing manner. "And besides, you're my fixer upper so if it does break, I got you." You give him a toothy smile.
"'S a little hard to have faith when you get your ass kicked outside of the ring." Another voice pulls the two of yours attention to the door frame.
A smirk tugs at your lips as you shake your head, taking in your dark-haired friend. The skin is darkening on his cheek and you know he'll have a story to explain later. A white shirt clings to his skin accentuating his arms. His hair is perfectly gelled and styled to give his hair more volume. No matter what he's doing or where he's going, his hair always seems to be perfect and with the growing bruise on his face, you have to stifle back a laugh knowing him too well.
"Look who's talking." You quip, looking back to Matty.
"Your nose is broken and," Mikey pushes off the doorframe, approaching you. He squeezes your ribs, a yelp falling from your lips as you punch his arm in reflex. "Seems like you've got a nasty bruise forming." The challenging grin drops as his jaw squares.
"Her nose isn't broken, Mikey." Matty defends, sass in his voice as he continues cleaning the gash.
"Might as well be." Mikey says and takes your chin in his hands when Matty moves away. "Really, what the hell happened?" Mikey looks over the bruising and the cut, trying to read your face.
You pull away and brush him off. "Making sure I 'get the big picture' or whatever." You change your voice to a mocking tone.
Mikey looks to Matty. Matty gives him a disapproving glance with the shake of his head. "How much does he have on you tonight?"
"Probably a lot." You squint an eye, removing the rag from under your nose. "He's a fucking imbecile. He'll bet a fuck ton of money on the first night just to raise the fucking stakes." You roll your eyes. "He'll paint a bigger target on himself which paints one on me which I already have a big enough target as it is. I swear, the logic he has is that of a child."
Mikey chuckles. "And yet, you got involved." His chuckle comes to a dead halt with his words.
Your jaw drops and you look to Matty who just puts his hands up. "Sorry, he's right."
"Thanks, Matty." You glare at him.
"You didn't have to do any of this but you did. So, Mikey is right." Mikey gives you a confident grin.
"Thank you." Mikey says to Matty.
"I wasn't done." Matty states. "But Mikey can chill. She got the idea from you." Matty points to Mikey, pursing his lips with a soft shrug and tilt of his head.
You laugh at the appalled expression on Mikey's face, granting you a deadly glare from Mikey. "Alright." Mikey sighs. "Just don't lose." A challenging grin comes to Mikey's face and you just beam.
"I won't." You smirk with confidence. "First fight is always easy and I-I-I can totally win this year. Why are you doubting me?"
Mikey lets out a sigh and dodges eye contact. You weren't asking to be serious. Your tone was sarcastic and playful but the look on Mikey's face expressed he had a genuine worry, something he rarely had for you. You can handle yourself fine in the ring. Mikey has seen you a thousand times and he helps you train. You're damn good and Mikey knows as well as you do that you do have the ability to win, if you'd get out of your head. If things worked out for her, she'd win but this is different. He olds faith in his friend to pull it out, she has to, but he's worried this year.
"Okay, really? Sup?" You look to Matty.
"Um," Matty takes a seat on the edge of the white bathtub. "There's supposedly a new fighter this year."
"There's always someone new."
Mikey shakes his head as he licks his lips and gestures his hand out. "Rumor has it that he'll be the one to beat after this match."
"Well, who is he?" You press, brows pulled together. "And that'd be a good thing. I'll beat him. Ian will bet more money on me and he'll end up with double. I'm off the hook."
"I have no idea." Mikey admits. "That's just what was going around last night when shit was getting pulled together for tonight. They were saying this dude is unlike anyone they've seen before but, that's all I got."
"Wow, you're a great investigator. Remind me to hire you the next time I need a P.I." Sarcasm drenches your words.
"Oh, okay, I'll go sticking my damn nose where it doesn't belong next time? We see where that lands everyone, yeah?"
"What the fuck crawled up your ass, Mikey? Matty is usually the one giving me shit."
Mikey rests his hands on your shoulders. "You're my best friend, Rocket. You have to win this time."
You hang your head and guilt starts to seep into your veins. "I know." Your voice comes back down to a speaking level. "I know." You point to your face as you sigh, an indication this was only a warning of what happens if you don't win.
"Well," Matty lets out a sigh, standing up from his seat. "We gotta dip or we'll fall behind."
"Can't wait to see this new competition." You laugh as you hop down from the counter.
"Kick his ass." Mikey chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as the three of you exit to the bathroom and grab your things to head over to the ring.
Time for the first match of the season.
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