Page 16 of Unlucky You

It was the guy I’d locked eyes with earlier and everything about him had changed. No longer was he dressed in black sweats and running shoes. He was only in black athletic shorts with black compression shorts beneath them. I could see them peeking from under the cotton fabric that stopped a few inches above his knees.

Those were the only articles of clothing he wore, leaving a nice visual of his body that I couldn’t help but enjoy.

“Ladies and gentlemen. It’s time for the main event. We have a good one for you. Our reigning champion, Levitt, is facing a newcomer. He wants a chance to take down our reigning king. Sit back and enjoy.”

A roar lifted from the crowd as they clapped their appreciation for the upcoming match. Two contenders facedoff, one in each corner. The larger of the two, Blue Shorts as I’d labeled him because I didn’t have anything else to go by, bounced on the balls of his feet, flashing bared teeth as he growled, eyes locked and focused. His bravado was loud, but it was also forced. One thing about my trade, it allowed me to pick up details that others easily overlooked.

His opponent, my mystery guy, was a calm, steady force. His confidence was innate, like he wasn’t concerned in the least that his opponent was a few inches taller, considerably wider, and more solid compared to his lean frame. He didn’t smile, neither did it seem he was absorbing any of the crowd’s energy. If I had to guess, he’d blocked them out the minute he climbed through the ropes to enter the ring.

While they applauded and cheered, his eyes never left his opponent, who continued to dance around his corner of the ring. He even turned his back, throwing his arms up several times, begging for them to praise him further.

Moments later, the first round began and Blue Shorts launched himself at Mystery Guy. One, two, three solid shots to the torso, only to step back in confusion when Mystery Guy absorbed every one instead of attempting to block or dodge his fists.

Blue Shorts descended on Mystery Guy with even more vengeance, pummeling his fists into Mystery Guy’s body until he put an end to the assault by shoving Blue Shorts back, which only pissed him off and had Blue Shorts charging again. Only this time, Mystery Guy reciprocated. Six precise, calculated jabs that landed so quick and hard Blue Shorts wasn’t able to avoid the contact.

My Mystery Guy was the better fighter. There was no doubt in my mind, yet he allowed Blue Shorts to persist as if he were, only delivering an occasional punch between the ones his opponent landed. I was gravely confused by what was happeningand even more confused about why it evoked such strange feelings inside me. The brutality of what was happening had my body hot and yearning.

This rotation took place for two complete rounds and I assumed the third would be the same but I was proven wrong as the end of the match crept into place. Frustration overtook Blue Shorts. He wanted Mystery Guy to fight him with just as much vigor and assertion as he was putting forth and when the engagement wasn’t returned, he snapped and charged him, swinging wildly.

Mystery Guy dodged his attempts, throwing Blue Shorts off balance and for a brief moment I swear I noticed Mystery Guy smile; if it could be considered as such. On anyone else it would have been considered a snarl at best but for a man who had shown no emotion, when the corner of his lips curled and the muscles around his eyes loosened just a bit, I found my own smile surfacing. He was amused and ready…

To end the match.

At some point I’d moved closer to the ring. I hadn’t noticed how close until I lifted my camera and aimed at the center of the ring. After doing a quick adjustment, I fired off a succession of shots. This man was starkly beautiful with all of his rugged sharp edges.

Blue Shorts took a minute to regroup after another failed swing, gritting his teeth before he charged once more. Mystery Guy’s expression stoned over. He shifted left to duck a punch and returned two which nailed Blue Shorts right in the liver. That whisper of a smile was back. He was completely at ease, settling into his element. The kill was near.

“Now you want to fight,” Blue Shorts yelled. “Fine, bring it.”

Mystery Guy didn’t respond verbally. He moved into the range of Blue Shorts’ swing, blocking the right that came his way. He delivered back-to-back body blows, quick and precise,that had Blue Shorts stumbling toward the ropes. Mystery Guy didn’t advance, he dropped his arms and lowered his chin. He was taunting Blue Shorts, daring him to take the opportunity while he was fully exposed, fists at his sides, rendering him open and vulnerable.

I grinned, foreseeing how this would end. Blue Shorts was going down but his ego overshadowed his intellect.

“You want to keep your title. Come on. Here’s your chance.” Mystery Guy’s focus was rough and angry. I could see the brief moment when Blue Shorts hesitated. When he met Mystery Guy in the center of the ring, raining punches into his torso, Mystery Guy didn’t falter. He allowed Blue Shorts to present his best effort at taking him down and when he’d had enough, one quick, fast movement of his arm placed his bare knuckled fist beneath Blue Shorts’ chin. His head snapped back, then to the side when another right fist cracked against his cheek, sending him spinning a hundred and eighty degrees before he flopped into the ropes and sank to the ring floor.

Mystery Guy stood over him, breathing heavily, eyes lowered to the body below him. He was a vessel of power. I had never seen anything like him before. The blows he took should have had him struggling out of the ring, regardless of the win. However, he moved with an unwavering confidence. Had I not witnessed the match for myself, I wouldn’t have believed the beating he endured. The way he fought was strange. This guy allowed his opponent to deliver blow after blow which he didn’t attempt to dodge or defend. The only thing he made an effort to protect was his face.

The referee ended the match by motioning to Mystery Guy but there wasn’t any clarification as to who the victor was until the crowd cheered uncontrollably seconds after the referee placed his attention on him. With a nod, he claimed the victory.

I captured several more candids as he left the ring and moved through the crowd that parted to allow him room to travel through the building. The spectators did, however, congratulate the guy, sending spoken worship his way. All of which he ignored. Not once did he acknowledge any of them. His focus was that of a man lost in his own world. It was as if no one existed which was also interesting. I watched him move with another flood of intrigue rushing through me. A slow crawl of goosebumps prickled across my skin.

In my experience, fighters loved praise. They pushed their bodies and tried to secure the win, not only because it was lucrative, but because that praise was the narcotic their egos thrived on. I had a feeling, this guy didn’t give a damn about any of it, which had me intrigued and dipping through the crowd trying to get a closer look. One that wasn’t filtered through my lens. By the time I reached the area where he’d traveled, I was too late. Missed him by just a few seconds as he pushed through the door and disappeared behind it.

My eyes scanned the crowd once more until they landed on someone else. He was just off to the side of the same door, speaking in hushed tones with a man in a dark suit who wore a hard expression and had an expensive appearance. Their exchange only lasted for a brief moment and ended with the transfer of a black envelope.

This guy must be the owner. I captured a few shots of the two men as they shook hands and hurried to the door, blocking it just as the guy returned.

His brows pinched but a smile surfaced seconds after.

“You looking for me?”

“Not exactly. Can I ask a few questions?” He followed my line of sight when my eyes darted to the door that separated us from the fighter.

He chuckled dryly. “If it’s about Grand then, no.”

Grand.

The name fit. Mystery Guy was certainly Grand.

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