Today is going to be as short day at the gym. I have another match this evening, and I’m looking forward to it. I’m glad that Alex is really chill about me leaving work to go box. I’d be screwed if I was working anywhere else. Alex is avoiding Laurel and me, but she is not going to be getting of that easily. Laurel is going with me to my match this afternoon, so when the time comes to leave, we wind up cornering Alex by the locker rooms.

Laurel grins at her, “So, Alex, what’s the story between you and Damion?”

“Oh, Geeze, really?” Alex blushes, “Not today, you two.”

“Awe, come on, Alex,” I say, “Give us something juicy.”

She rolls her eyes. “I used to work on his marketing team back when he boxed.”

“Geeze, how old are you?” I joke, and Laurel elbows me in my side.

“Cute,” Alex says with an eye roll. “We dated back then, and we’ve recently been catching back up.”

“Back then? What were you, twelve?” I ask, and Laurel socks me in my arm.

“Funny,” she says, “I was twenty when I was part of his marketing team –it had been towards the end of his boxing days.”

“Damn, Damion,” I say, “he had to be, what, thirty-five?”

“Would you shut up?” Alex says, “I own your ass. I’ll fire you.”

“All right, all right,” I say, “Sorry.”

“Get out of here before I make you work late,” Alex says.

Laurel and I laugh, and we head out of the gym. We take my newly remodeled Volkswagen to the arena, and Laurel laughs about me still having the pink, fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror. “I’ve grown attached,” I say.

“Sure, sure,” Laurel says, “whatever you say, Jonathan”

We head inside, and I get ready. Marty and Tyler aren’t here this time around, but Bobby managed to make it. He and Laurel head to the audience while I head to the locker room. My manager, Caleb, sent his little assistant, Will, to help get me prepped. He ties up my hands in the bandages, and I roll my eyes and have to tell the guy how to do it correctly. It makes me miss Gabe; that had always been his job.

This is a slightly more experienced boxer who’s taking me on, but he’s still an amateur. I’m hoping this one will get a little bit more attention from the media. I head out to the ring, and I’m feeling really pumped after my last match. I’m ready.

The guy comes out swinging; he’s really sloppy. This will be easy. He can’t land a punch, and he has no form. I knock him three times in the face with a tremendous amount of force before he starts remembering to hold his gloves up. Poor guy’s nose is definitely broken. He holds his gloves too high, and I get him in the chest or the side of the head. Wow, this is almost too easy.

The first round ends, and I head to my little corner where Caleb is standing. I guess he’s pretending to be my trainer. “Nice going, man,” he says, “you’re off to a good start.”

“Thanks,” I grumble from behind my mouth guard. His buddy Will wipes my face with a towel.

Round two starts, and it’s equally embarrassing for the other guy. He’s holding in there, though. In round three, I knock him out within the first minute. I grin; I hardly took any heat from the poor guy, and he took a serious pounding. The crowd loses their minds; I can see a lot of smart phones out, and I hope this match is all over the internet. This is just what I needed.

After the match Bobby heads back to work, but Laurel and I head back to her apartment for a little private celebration.