The Crystal arenas were intense. Riley was aware of it. He had seen fights before. But this? What the fuck was that?

He wanted to see Taj fight and was carefully asking for information, not wanting to alert his grandfather. 

After the incident two weeks ago, Riley was avoiding his guards. Fucking idiots to attack Taj. One had to talk to his grandfather about the situation because Riley, if he were to describe it, would demand that they be beaten or something even more harmful. 

One was following him today, for sure, but he was always very discreet. He wouldn’t judge or interfere.

Riley felt free to watch the arena fight. He bought the best spot. He was there when it started, and… he saw it. 

The beast.

The crowd was screaming, shouting, ‘Manh, Manh,’ and Riley was surrounded by it all. 

It was hot inside, and the atmosphere was charged. 

People were aggressively commenting on every move Taj made, on how he looked, and on how he fought. 

So many words Riley heard, so many people screaming for Taj to look here or there, to smile. To kill that person in the arena, to hit harder. No, fuck, to hit less, to be careful, to take the money, to agree. 

Riley felt like he was going crazy. This crowd wanted the same thing as him. They wanted Taj.

The other issue was Taj himself. Riley was not prepared for this. His feelings were torn between being aroused and scared.

Taj looked like an animal—fierce like a demon, beautiful, and dangerous. Frightening, too, because he was cruel. 

His moves were precise and deadly. His body and face glowed, and Riley couldn’t take his eyes off him for the entire fight. Taj’s eyes were so dark, as dark as the darkest spot in the night sky. No light in them, no fucking salvation. 

But then, Riley felt it. The fear. 

They fought in arenas not to kill, but whatever it took to win was allowed; the fighters would heal later. Riley was scared, so fucking scared because of what if. What if, soon, he must observe someone managing to overpower Taj’s skills and beat him, harm him, or make him bleed? Then what? What could he, Riley, do? Would he stop the fucking fight? Would he pay to end it? Buy the arena? What?

He didn’t know what to do the whole fight. Riley felt scared, and with time, even more so, though not because he would need to interfere.

It was that fuck, Taj; he was… Taj was fucking violent to the point Riley didn’t know what to think. He saw him beating his guards, knew he was teaching fighting, and knew he was an arena fighter. 

What was he thinking? That Taj was who? Fucking fierce. So beautiful, how could someone so beautiful be so savage, so rapid, so brutal? 

Then it ended. 

Riley felt his fear disappear; only surprise remained. And his excitement. He fucking needed to see Taj now. Riley tried to push through the crowd, but the crowd pressed on. 

Everyone wanted to see the fighter… there were suddenly many people around Riley too. 

A second, and it got easier. Riley looked around. Fuck, his guard, One, was here; good thing it was him and not the other guards. 

How he managed it was his business, but five minutes later, they were out of the crowd. What was more, they were by the door, but not the fighters’ entrance, where everyone was squeezed, but by the managers’ office. One, as always, the best, fuck, Riley needed to make an agreement here, pay, and get what he wanted—forget the crowd. 

Riley took a few breaths. The arena guys let him in when One made a gesture. Riley didn’t know what it was, but, fuck again, it worked. And what? Firstly, he had no chance today. Fighter Manh usually disappeared a few minutes after the fight, quickly took the money, and that was all. 

Taj was probably gone already. 

Secondly, when Riley asked the arena managers when the next fight was—all of them—Riley wanted to buy access to all of them, including backstage, before and after. Everything. 

They said there was only one fight left.

“Only one left?” Riley almost screamed.

“One left,” the reply was calm.

“How is it only one?” Riley had to know because, fuck, why?

“Fighter Manh said today that one would be enough for him.”

Their conversation started to be heated. The managers knew who Riley was and tried to ease the tension. They started to explain that they didn’t know, but it was Manh who supposedly said that he would not need to earn the money here anymore.

Riley paid whatever they wanted. It didn’t matter. But only one fight left? Fuck, why? Taj was just as poor as… or had something changed? Fuck! Did Taj find someone with money?

“When is the next fight?” he asked quickly.

“August fifteenth.”

Riley looked at One; he nodded, signaling they should go, so he obeyed. 

He felt bad; his head was flooded with awful visions.