[kaylor] throw your punches;

chapter two

She's off of her game for the rest of training. Laverne lands blows that Taylor knows will bloom and expand into bruises, but she feels no remorse. She deserves it. She shouldn't be letting Karlie already invade her sanity this easily once more.

Mike notices too, but he holds his tongue. He figures it's just her nerves getting the best of her - Knockout was notorious for winning nearly every fight, and for making moves that could get her kicked out of matches. It was a heated debate whether or not her or her trainers tip off the referees before each match.

The imbalance continues for the rest of the day, it seems. In a fit of confused rage and emotion, she knocks the wooden board out of the door and lets out a frustrated scream. It takes her a few tries to get the damn thing to stay, and when it does she's amazed that she's losing control so fast. Deep breaths, Taylor. Control your anger. Don't let it taint your features. She pauses and slings her bag over her shoulder and begins to inhale and exhale slowly. The boxer is sure she looks odd to anyone passing by, but it doesn't matter to her.

Her delicate breathing exercises prove useless. Her walk back to her apartment is littered with irritants and she loses her control fast; a man's shoulder collides with her roughly and her duffel went flying, the contents spilling out onto the dirty sidewalk. Her face becomes flustered as she furiously tries to stuff various equipment back into the bag, ignoring the obscenities being flung at her from people stepping over her. Taylor knows that she could easily spin around and pummel them into a pulp, but she restrains herself.

Then, a car drives by and its tire goes spinning through a puddle. She hears the hum of the engine and the sound of rubber churning water forward, but by the time she registers how close she is to the car that's speeding by, she's soaked through. Muddy water coats her clothes and drips down her skin. It feels different than normal water, perhaps from the dirt speckling it. Within a few seconds, its drying on her body and she feels sticky. Many walk by without a single word, but she sees their pitying glances. Her face burns red once more and now she rushes home, praying to avoid any more issues.

She blames the lack of luck on Karlie immediately. There's no other possible source for it. Taylor could feel her life's balance suddenly teetering towards misfortune, and she knows its because of the renewed presence of her ex.

When she sees the familiar rusted iron gates of her apartment complex, she's relieved. Unscathed by any more incidents, Taylor approaches the doors and tugs one open. It's as if the world says not just yet when the edge of Taylor's duffel bag catches on the hook and she hears the fabric tear. It's not enough to have the contents spill out once more luckily. She suppresses screams as she stomps up the stairs.

Olivia meows excitedly at her the second she's through the door and her anger is quelled just barely. The tiny face that seems to have been pinched close together stares up at her, light pink tongue slurping out to lick her own whiskers. Taylor gives a weak smile down at the cat and steps carefully around her. She steps into the small kitchen and relieves the bag off of her shoulder onto the table, examining the tear. The fibers of the expensive material that she had once saved for for weeks had splayed out and she could see the blue plastic of her deodorant through it.

Taylor didn't have much to spend. On paper, she made a salary that many dreamed of, but after paying her rent, overdue bills, buying the proper equipment for training, and food, she had nearly nothing left. She prays that her friend could sew together the bag so it doesn't get any worse, or her money would soon be flying out of her hands once more.