I take another hard punch to my nose. My arms feel like limp noodles; it’s almost impossible to keep my hands up. I can’t see out of my right eye. Donte doesn’t look much better, but he is at least keeping himself balanced while I am swaying around like an idiot trying to keep myself from falling over.

The bell dings, and I send up a prayer of thanks just so I can sit down and breathe. My first match with Donte had been rough, but this is an entirely different animal. It’s like he had been studying me and me alone for the past couple of years just so he could get a revenge match like this. He’s kicking my ass, and the refs are wiping blood up off the floor between each round.

I gasp and choke up blood as Gabe and Damion wipe the blood off my face. Damion sticks a straw in my mouth so I can choke down a bit of water. “You got to get the ref to call it,” I hear Gabe say, and I contemplate spinning around and using my last bit of energy to knock him back.

Damion looks me in the eye. “You want me to call it, Johnny?” I shake my head and gasp for air. Damion grabs me under my chin and makes me turn my head out to the audience where I see Brandi staring down at the floor to avoid looking at me. “If you don’t want me to call it, you better show me you can still talk at least, or I’m having the ref call it right now!”

“Don’t call it,” I say, gurgling blood bubbles out of my mouth as I speak. Thank God for mouth guards.

I can see Gabe shake his head nervously, but Damion steps aside as the final round gets underway. Donte launches at me like a lunatic. Where is he finding the energy? I can barely block. I think my arm is broken. I’m not sure; it’s certainly swollen. Last round. It’s the last round. I’m not going to let this son of a bitch K.O. me. I’ve never been knocked out; it’s not happening. Donte gets me in my throat again. Fuck this shit. I swing and somehow actually manage to deliver a punch, but I’ve gotten sloppy. I leave myself open, and he knocks me good.

I go back, and I land flat on my back –arms spread wide. Tunnel vision. I see Brandi’s horrified look as everything around me goes black.

The next thing I know I’m waking up in a hospital bed. A hospital bed? Are you fucking kidding me? They had to take me to the hospital? My stomach churns at the image of my knocked out ass being hauled off on a gurney. I couldn’t even get up and walk out? I couldn’t walk away with my dignity? No, I had to be carried out, apparently. It only takes me a second to realize there’s a damn tube down my throat, and a part of my feels claustrophobic to have it there. I frantically search for the nurse call button and press that thing probably twenty times before a nurse comes hurrying into the room. She smiles. “Just relax, Mr. Trial, and we’ll have your breathing tube removed,” she says. I’m trying not to have a full-fledged panic attack. I saw my dad when he had woken up from heart surgery panic when he realized he still had a tube in his throat, and they had sedated him, so I try to at least pretend to be calm. I must get the claustrophobia from him.

She takes way too long, but soon it’s out of my throat, and I feel like I can relax a little. “Where’s Brandi?” I question.

“Your friends and family are still here at the hospital. They’re downstairs in the cafeteria. I’ll go get them for you and send your doctor in,” she speaks in a reassuring and kind tone, so I thank her as she disappears and a doctor comes in shortly after.

The doctor tells me that they couldn’t wake me up, and I cringe at the thought. I have a serious concussion, and I’ve been out cold for six hours. Six fucking hours. I can’t believe it. I had to be given blood. I had surgery too –internal bleeding. I still have my teeth, so I guess that’s good.

Eventually, Brandi and Gabe and even Damion come darting into the room. Brandi starts crying as though I had died on her and had suddenly come back. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” I assure her, and she hangs on me to kiss me, and it hurts like hell, but I don’t tell her.

Gabe looks pale. I wonder how bad the knockout looked? Damion calls my manager to let him know I’m up. There are flowers everywhere. I can’t believe I lost.

We’re there for a few hours before I work up the courage to watch the match. Brandi is against me watching it, but I insist. Gabe shows it to me on his phone… holy shit. I watch myself go round after round with Donte. The first nine rounds looked pretty good, but after that, I start looking like a complete idiot. Donte really kicked my ass. The last round is the hardest to watch. I get knocked out, and they hold up Donte’s glove –everyone seems to expect that I’m going to get up, but I don’t move.

I can see Brandi on the side of the ring screaming at someone to go over and check me. A bunch of paramedics circles around my perfectly still body. Donte awkwardly backs up. Security is pushing people back away from the ring. There is a panic in the room that I can feel. Even the announcers are talking like I’m fucking dead. I put Gabe’s phone away. I don’t need to see anymore.