Surprisingly, since quitting his old job, Sunday had become Jed’s favorite day of the week. It used to mark the beginning of his shift to a nocturnal sleep schedule for the next five and a half days, but, now, it signified his day off! He lounged around in his shared bed, and thought of what to do.
Hmm. Now that he had… friends… there were so many new and exciting things he could spend his break doing. Maybe he’d go on a walk with Vanessa and look at the leaves changing. Or maybe he’d go for a hike with Harvey, finally traversing that one mountain trail they were both curious about. But, he was so sore--and all those things seemed to need a certain level of athleticism he just simply could not reach today. Plus, he’d be seeing his trainer and Vanessa bright and early tomorrow so… maybe today he’d just get to know himself. He stared at the ceiling, and then, slowly, eyed the lotion on the counter that was sitting very… nonchalantly next to his box of half used tissues. The two of them were practically calling his name, but, before he could make any brazen decisions, his door swung open, and a chilly fall breeze flooded the apartment.
“Hey!!” Harvey said, waving at Jed as he kicked his shoes off and laid on the bed next to him. “Long time no see, dude!”
“I’ve been busy.” Jed sat up, excitedly. He hadn’t seen Harvey in awhile! Despite them both working mornings, and getting back at generally the same time, Jed was always passed out. Harvey had also been spending a lot more time with his girlfriend recently. They were having issues. “How are you?”
Harvey was surprised at Jed’s sudden interest in him and his day--he usually only gave one or two word answers… unless he was nervous. Harvey sniffed Jed, quickly, attempting to be as inconspicuous as possible.
No. No signs of anxiety.
Harvey answered, ready to relieve his own swelling concerns. “Not great. My girlfriend and I broke up…” He lifted up his hands and covered his face as he spoke. Muffled, Harvey kept going: “She just wasn’t ready for something serious. But, dude! I’m gonna be thirty next year. If we aren’t getting married now, when?” He dragged his hands down, dramatically, and pulled at the skin on his cheeks before sitting up to get on Jed’s level. For a second, Jed was silent. Then, after some build up, said something parallel to profound:
“I guess it’s good it happened now?” He was trying to be as comforting as possible, but Jed was never quite sure what to do in situations like this--people being uncomfortable made him nervous, and he didn’t even have any real life situations to pull from to help out. “Maybe now you’ll find someone who likes you enough.”
Harvey shot him a very sarcastic smile before rolling his eyes and heaving a heavy sigh, making Jed realize that what he said may not have come out the way he wanted. Before he could correct himself and tell Harvey he meant someone that likes him enough to get married, his roomate perked up, realizing he had some other big news to tell Jed:
“Oh!!! And, my colleagues were talking about you on Saturday, dude.” He reached over and grabbed the remote from the night table. “You’re on TV! The boxing bracket channel is back up.” He flipped through stations until he landed on one Jed had seen in passing through bar windows before.
On the TV, two reporters sat next to one another, with a garish blue background behind them. In between them was a blown up image of a boxer--this one was a giant, seven-foot-something man, with a large ivory horn in the middle of his head, and skin that looked thick and coarse to the touch. He wasn’t just bulky, he was huge. Over the top of the promotional image, in a stencil font, read, TITAN. Jed felt a wave of unease wash over him. That guy was a fighter? Someone he’d have to go head to head with?
He cracked his knuckles, imagining all the ways Titan could kill him. Maybe he’d impale Jed on that horn of his. Or, maybe, he’d crack all his ribs at once in one, fluid, punch. With or without hollow bones, there was no way he could stand up against this dude.
“Okay!!! Right after this!!!” Harvey wrapped an arm around Jed’s shoulders, gripping the furthest one slightly tight and shaking him a little, trying to hype him up. With his free hand, Harvey pointed at the TV, wagging his finger. Jed wondered if he would bark. “LOOK!!!” That kind of sounded like one.
As Jed lifted his gaze back to the TV, he came face to face with… himself. Shirtless. In tiny shorts that left nothing to the imagination. His mouth hung open in utter shock, eyes glued to the screen. Harvey, on the other hand, kept looking between real Jed and TV Jed. He was so excited. The reporters began to speak:
“And, this contestant is known as Jed Love. His stage name, though, is Dove.”
“Oh, you mean Jed ‘Love’ isn’t his stage name?” the male reporter sarcastically added on, shaking his head as he looked at Jed’s picture. “I can’t believe this is an actual fighter that’s signed on.”
“And why is that?” the female reporter shot back, matching his energy. “He looks strong, and his stats say he’s tall. Seems qualified to me.”
The male reporter guffawed in disbelief--it was loud, and boisterous. Jed’s face started feeling hot, then his ears, and then it traveled all the way to his hairline--he wanted to hide under the covers and never come out. This wasn’t like the regular shame he felt from being clumsy or awkward. It was different. It was… a sudden realization that he existed and was perceived by people. And that, unfortunately, those people didn’t always have good opinions of him. He cringed at the thought of himself, and, for a moment, was thankful Vanessa and her assistants had full control over his social media--if this was being said about him on television, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what his comments section was starting to look like.
“This man--no, this boy, is not qualified in the slightest. If you look at his past wins, it reads zero. Which would be no problem if it was from a failed, but still valiant effort.” He clicked a clicker, and changed a center image to one of Jed’s headshots. “That isn’t the case here, though. He hadn’t been in a fight, let alone taken a boxing lesson before joining this bracket.”
The female reporter seceded, holding her hands up in defeat. “You’re right about that, Richard. But, according to his manager, Vanessa--”
“That’s right--Vanessa. Daphne, I’m sorry for interrupting, but I need to get this out there or I’m gonna explode. ” He cleared his throat, and clicked to another image; It was Bindi’s picture of Jed and Vanessa. “Vanessa Tominaga, if you’re listening to this, I have a question for you. Out of all these experienced and deserving boxers, why did you pick this incapable,” Ouch. That word hurt, “unknown,” That one hurt more, but Jed supposed he wasn’t wrong. His own colleague didn’t even know his name, “rookie?”
Daphne looked at him, raising her eyebrows and clasping her hands together, as if to say, are you done yet? Richard, still coming down from his aggravated tirade, motioned to her, letting her know it was okay to finish her earlier thought.
“Well, Richard, I like to think Vanessa is doing a good thing by working with him. The smaller boxers never really get the chance to have a stylist, after all.” She took the clicker from him, passive aggressively, and hit it, showing the final image in the slideshow. It was of him and Amon training. “As I was saying, his manager hooked him up with a retired boxer who competed six years ago! This photo was taken from their first day, and, when we compare it to Dove now, it seems he’s already made great progress!”
For the second time on this broadcast, Richard began to laugh, almost uncontrollably. He found that very funny. “Daphne, this is the problem with women who watch boxing. They just care about whether a man is attractive instead of the sport.”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s the only reason you’re defending him.”
“Right. So, the only reason I’ve been a sports broadcaster for years is because I… like hot men.”
Richard shrugged and, under his breath, mumbled: “If the shoe fits.”
Aggravated by his remark, Daphne spat back. “Okay, Richard. How about this, then? Dove, Vanessa, Amon, or whoever is watching this, the boxing channel formally requests Dove show his skill set publicly.” As she spoke, a ‘formal request’ graphic popped up on the screen. “If you could, within the next few months, please host a live fight that’s open to public viewing. We will film it and broadcast it for you to make sure it isn’t edited.”
Happy to get his way, Richard looked at her, smug. And then they moved onto the next boxer.
Jed slammed the remote’s off button, and flopped back down onto the bed, smushing his face into the pillow. Harvey placed a gentle hand to his back and rubbed it--he could sense the heaps of stress Jed was suddenly drowning in.
“Don’t worry about it, dude! You’re going to train, and then fight, and then win!” He lifted Jed up from his pillow prison, and held both his shoulders. “They already know about your whole bones thing, right?! So I’m sure they’ll plan the fight around that.”
UghHHHHhhh. With that reminder, Jed felt even worse. He slinked out of Harvey’s grasp and laid back down, facing away from his roommate, and retiring to the fetal position.
“No. They don’t.”
And then, his phone rang. It was Vanessa.
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