“So.” Amon’s critical gaze drilled into Jed as he lay sprawled out on the mat, which was now a shade darker after absorbing Jed’s excessive sweat. He poked Jed’s biceps, inconspicuously noting how the fabric of his shirt clung to his skin, then arched a brow. “Are these just for show? That warm-up was painful to watch.”

Jed, still gasping for breath, managed a reply, “It’s the cardio. It kills me.” Amon settled beside him, extending a water bottle.

“Don’t you fly?”

“Yeah.” Jed took the bottle and chugged it. Amon glared. “Smoker’s lung.”

“WHAT?!” Amon snatched the water from Jed, hovering over him. He put one hand on his hip and the other on his forehead, disapprovingly. “Absolutely no smoking. And no drinking.” Amon threw his hands up in defeat. “You know what, no vices whatsoever!”

Jed rolled his eyes in exasperation. It was from second hand smoke, but whatever. He’d take the hit.

Unimpressed with Jed’s lack of enthusiasm, Amon pointed a finger in Jed’s face as he continued this tirade. “I’m going to put you on a diet. What are your allergies?”

“Chocolate.” Amon retrieved his notepad from his bag, hurriedly scribbling down each word. “Coffee. Citrus. Avocado.” Amon couldn’t believe the length of this list; Could this guy eat anything? “Salt.” His eyes widened at that one. “Garlic.”

“What are you, some kind of vampire?” Amon slapped his notebook closed. “Don’t bother continuing. Diet is canceled, just be sure you’re not doing anything that’s going to make you tired, or irritable or…” He prodded Jed’s stomach. “Visibly out of shape.”

Jed nodded in mock understanding. He didn’t care. He was going to eat whatever he wanted; pickings were already slim. This guy acted like a know-it-all.

Amon motioned for Jed to follow him up. It was time to start sparring—cardio and strength training had their limits if Jed didn't gain practical experience. Employing mitts at this early stage was a bit unconventional, and Amon would have preferred more emphasis on shadowboxing beforehand, as he was able to with his previous fighters. However, the urgency stemmed from Jed’s imminent participation in a large-scale professional competition. Everything would need to be fast-tracked to an almost uncomfortable degree so mastery was more attainable later on.

Amon rummaged through his bag, retrieving white and black gloves, and handed them to Jed. “Here. Vanessa told me to—”

Before he could finish, Vanessa practically sprinted over to the two of them. Swiftly, she grabbed the gloves from Amon’s hands and launched into a very animated, long-winded explanation about her latest creation, beaming with excitement at the chance to showcase her latest artistic prowess.

“Hey, Jed! These are your exclusive trial gloves. I came up with them after our Saturday chat. Took me forever, but I needed them to be special.” With a flourish, she showed them off, readying herself to receive the praise that typically followed the unveiling of a sample piece from a renowned designer. Yet, to her dismay, both of her spectators stayed quiet.

Little did she know, though, Jed's silence was more from awe than scorn. As she poured her heart into the inspiration behind the design, he found himself feeling inspired as well. Her enthusiasm was incredible—Jed watched the way her eyes lit up and her words flowed with passion. It was admirable, to say the least. Jed wanted to be that driven one day, too. He needed that sort of energy in his life. There was no way he’d lose to his five-year-plan with an attitude like that.

“I picked black and white because—“

“Because you’re booooring.” Amon interrupted, brazenly. Vanessa’s jaw dropped. How could he say that before hearing the essay long deep dive she had prepared? He… he didn’t even wait for her to explain the rich history of the colors she chose, or how they represented the super profound struggles Jed was totally destined to face on this perilous quest to victory! He didn’t even wait for her to tell them what she named them!

“Excuse me? I didn’t—”

Amon interrupted her again, continuing with his critique. Jed noticed the scales on his face turning a warm shade of violet. “Black and white are so cliché, even for you. If you spent more than a few hours on this, I’d be surprised.” Amon pushed his hair out of his face, continuing. “Let me guess: you picked black and white, because Jed himself is a “juxtaposition.” An angel guy going into a fighting ring. Peace partaking in violence. Blah, blah, blah.” Amon tapped the gloves. “Booooring. Vanessa, you should’ve asked me for help. These things barely even have any cushioning.”

Once he was finished, Vanessa responded with a tight smile, attempting to mask her very obvious annoyance. “Always a pleasure to hear your opinions, Amon. But, as I was saying, these gloves are demos while I figure out exactly what I want to brand you as. I don’t really know you yet, so I’m just working off of what I think would be totally aesthetically pleasing, then comboing that with an old idea I had. So, do you…” she placed the gloves delicately in Jed’s hands, and clasped hers together in front of her chest, expectantly. “Like these colors?”

Jed wasn’t sure. He liked the gloves themselves and the placement of the colors, but he didn’t like the black and white. It was so dull, and he was tired of everything he owned being monotonous. But… he also didn’t want Vanessa to think he was rude or ungrateful or anything like that.

Jed decided he’d take a leap of faith and just tell her. Like Harvey said, change is possible so—today he’d do just that. Make a change. “Um… not really.”

Vanessa sighed and raised a faux white flag of surrender. “Alright. Everyone leave me alone. You’re still going to be using them today, Jed. Even if you totally, completely hate them.” She patted him on the back, very nicely, in gentle acknowledgement.

Okay! That didn’t go terribly! And she didn’t even sound mad at him.

Jed decided he wanted to take another step towards something more with Vanessa. To do that he needed to make a move—to initiate a private hang out. Jed’s second foster mom had always told him that if he wanted to get with a girl, the first thing he needed to do was spend some quality time with her. Which is exactly what got him his middle-school girlfriend, in the first place.

Impress her. Sound cool. Say something forward. A flutter of nerves knotted in Jed’s stomach.

“Then, um. Maybe it would help you to design them if you let me take you out after this so… so we can get to know each other better.” Flustered, Jed felt a warmth creeping up his neck, but he powered through. “I mean, if you want to. I just… thought…” the words stumbled out, tripping over one another in nervous excitement.

“Okay, we can absolutely make it happen.”

She sounded excited. To make sure he wasn’t reading her wrong, Jed clarified: “This is, uh—business, right? Not… not a real date?”

“Um, definitely not a date! I'm your boss, and you're my client. Totally different vibes. I usually have one-on-one meetings with all the people I'm branding!” As Vanessa responded, Jed noticed Amon and the assistant exchanging amused glances. Were they making fun of him? “Plus, I don't do dates with guys I just met. It takes more than just good looks to impress me, you know!” That was a good sign, right? She gave him reasons for her answer instead of delivering a flat-out denial.

Oh, great. Vanessa thought. This is going to be an interesting bracket.

Each year, she dreaded having to work with her clients to deconstruct whatever biases they had about her—most of them thought of Vanessa as their savior, someone that saved them from their life of mundane poverty, which put her on an uncomfortable pedestal. Jed didn't seem any different.

As Jed nodded, Vanessa began packing her stuff up and headed for the door. Before she left, she called out, “Amon, call me when you’re done. I’ll be five minutes away. Then I’ll come and get you, Jed.”

“Okay, Vanessa! I’ll let you know!” He waved her out and began strapping Jed’s gloves onto his hands for him. “Bye!”

Once she was gone, Amon grabbed Jed by the shoulders. His voice rose in disbelief, the scales on his face increasing their luminosity. “You. Are. Crazy! Why would you say that about a date?"

“Was that... weird?” Jed mumbled, feeling small. Amon wouldn't get it. Vanessa was the first person who really saw him. She hand-picked him for this competition bracket and believed in him to transform from a complete nobody to a professional boxer—no, a star—in just three years.

That was exactly the kind of person Jed needed in his life.