Entry 6: 

My mom told me a long time ago, ‘life is like a punch to the liver. It’ll drop ya, and you're gonna be awake through the whole painful experience.” Affection wasn’t her strong suit. She had a point, though. Life’s a gut punch, and this day was no different.

Quick recap of my morning. Woke up too early from another nightmare, and cut my workout in half cuz I forgot to do my laundry. My fro pick broke again. Then I got a call from the bank telling me I’m in the red for the third year in a row. After that, I had to eat a protein turd since I didn’t have time to cook before opening the gym. Yadda yadda, attacked by a monster that blew up the back of my building, which I might have to pay to have fixed. Oh, then having HER arrive was a great way to top it all off. I felt like myself fading in the third with eight more rounds to go while puking into the trash bin in my office. 

“Dammit all…” I muttered, trying to compose myself. My office was still dark when I entered. The only light in the room came from the window, which looked out onto the main floor of the gym, giving a direct view of the ring. The door was a few feet from the entrance, over on the left when you walked into the building. It was a closet I hollowed out and added a window to. Inside, I managed to fit a small sofa under the window, leaving just enough space for my desk and rolling chair. Looking back on it, a regular chair in front might have looked more professional, but I mean, look at me. Everyday the desk seemed to push closer to the wall I’d covered in framed pictures, newspaper clippings, and dusty awards from my time in the ring. Slumped in, I felt my back press hard against the wall.“Damn, did I get taller?” I muttered to myself, wondering if that might be another problem I had to deal with. 

“Champ,”  said a voice by the door. I jumped.

“Huh?!” I nearly fell out of my chair.  Kyle poked her head inside. She looked concerned.

“Huh I didn’t see you come in, is this a bad time?” she asked, walking over to the sofa and taking a seat.

“Huh? Oh nah, I’m good. Just a…long day.” 

“Was that woman earlier here to talk about the gym? You’re not broke, are you? I know what happens to boxers-”

“-No, no, nothing like that. Jahvis witnesses are just really thorough in their recruitment process now. She won't be coming back.” 

“Ah…” Kyle said with a long pause. She raised a single judgmental eyebrow. “You're making it sound like you killed her champ.” 

“Wadda ya need, Kyle?” I said flatly. 

“OH!” she said, almost bouncing up in excitement. She then held her arms out in a displaying gesture at the doorway. “Come in man,” she said. The door opened, and that big guy she was with earlier lumbered in. “This is Bran. He just moved into my building, and I saw he had a bunch of boxing stuff.” The poor guy's face flushed red. He couldn’t even make eye contact with me. 

“I um..yeah, wow, I...uh,” he responded in nervous whispers.

“He's not much of a talker,” Kyle interjected, arms still out like she was showing off a new car. 

I gave the kid a full look over. His personality didn't scream tough guy, but he was built like one. He wore baggy clothes, but his shape was still squared, like a block. His hands were big, rough even, like they'd been battered before. The guy didn’t look like a boxer, more of a shaved bear in clothes. His energy was all nerves, but I could see why Kyle liked him. She found a 230-lb kitten. 

“I told him about your gym and he said he was down to sign up,” she said, beaming at him. The guy looked over at Kyle and gave a heavy swallow before nodding. 

As much as I would have normally taken the time to talk things through, I knew there was a ticking clock I was on the wrong end of. I reached over the side of my desk, where I had three colored bins: red, blue, and yellow. I pulled a piece of paper out of the blue bin and shook off the dust. 

           "Ok, so uhh kid. Ya wanna sign up?” I said, reaching out to hand over the form. The big guy nervously walked over and took it. “It’s $100 a month, $150 if you want your own locker. We open at eight, but have classes on Tuesdays through Saturdays after two, we’re closed.” 

“Uh Champ, I was hoping he could get the prospect discount,” Kyle said.

“The what?” I said. She turned to her shaved bear. 

“Just a minute,” she said, smiling as she led him out of my office and closed the door.  She turned around pouting. 

“Wadda mean prospect discount?” I asked, throwing my arms up. 

“Uh, the deal you gave me.” 

“Kyle, you've been here six months and ya basically my assistant.” 

“We need fighters, champ. Have you looked at him? He looks like a heavyweight contender, and he's not even trained to be one.” 

“Regardless, this is still a business, Kyle, and I don’t know the guy. Why should I give a discount to someone I just met? Plus,s why are you hanging out with strange grown men in ya building? You’re still in high school.”I said Pointing at the door

“He’s eighteen,” Kyle said, folding her arms.

“And he's that frigging big?” 

“You're one to talk.” 

“I have…a medical condition...several.” She only sighed at that.

“Champ. I just think you’re missing an opportunity here. Look at this place. All you have is me, Peter,  Old Dave, and Marcus. Peter only comes during the school year, Marcus can’t learn a damn thing, and old Dave just grunts and leaves.” 

“Old Dave don’t talk to anyone,”

“He don’t! Look, all you basically have is me, and if a boxing gym has no prospects, it’s not gonna last long. You’re the best in the ring, but marketing doesn’t seem to be your strong suit champ. “ 

“And it's yours?” I said, feeling the lines on my forehead grow. 

“Duh, I’m youthful,” she said very confidently. 

“I’m twenty-eight, Kyle, not eighty. Also, what makes you think he's any good? Tall and muscular doesn’t make you a good fighter.” 

“Let's give him a trial run tomorrow.  If he passes, he gets a discount. We have to build a real team here at some poin,t Champ. You said it yourself, if we train hard, we could dominate the amateurs in no time.” 

“I told you that, cuz you have potential.” I rose from my seat and walked over to her. She stared up at me, her face was hard. When we met it was the same. I towered over a foot and a half above this kid, but she never batted an eye. Never nervous. Six months ago, this kid showed up at my door, saying I was her idol and wanted to learn to box. Where I came from, girls were trained to fight all the time, so I had no issues with it, plus it's not like she was a hard sell. She said she used to be a sprinter, and it showed, already a jacked and freakish athlete. She ran, jumped rope, and could be in the ring for over an hour without a break. Kyle wasn’t a joke and didn’t wanna be taken as such. 

“Ok, Kyle. You win. He gets a trial run tomorrow,” I said. Her eyes widened. “BUT only if he's legit will he get a discount.  I gotta know he's serious about being a contender. I’m running a business, and we have to set a presa... whudda you call em?-

“Precedent,” Kyle said 

“Yeah. That, you understand?” I said, trying to keep my voice stern. She gave me a serious nod for maybe a second before she broke. 

“Got it champ,” she said, beaming, giving me a light punch in the gut before zooming out the door ready to deliver her good news.