Fightclub

four | neon

Trigger warnings: violence, past trauma, reference to substance usage, and memories of sa

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: 𝐀𝐂/𝐃𝐂 - 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤

Eight days before Roman went to the orphanage...

The Morellis had come yesterday for a meeting concerning a big shipment heading to Italy that was going to pass through our territory.

The remnants of my sanity would go poof...

I had never met them up close. I never wanted to reveal my face to other mafia leaders, or anyone related to the underworld for that matter. There were a few times I had to be in a meeting, but my face was covered. Always! Even walking down, the halls of the base I was masked.

Drystan was always the one to talk with them. Any leader. Sometimes Cassian would go inside to offer his mind for a plan involving his second nature. His computer nature.

It was true what they said. That when you find something you love it becomes second nature to you. It was so natural that only joy was the physical outcome. If something makes you happy it doesn't have to make sense to others. Mine were fighting and driving. The one could drive me to the edge, pumping adrenaline in my veins during a good fight. And the other could take my mind away. Nothing else mattered when I was behind the wheel or on my bike. Everything blurred around me and the only thing clear was the finish line.

I was at the base right now bored out of my mind. It was awfully quiet here. Drystan went on a meeting and Cassian went on a date. How he managed to find one; I had no idea.
She must be nice though because, for the past six years, I had known Cas, he didn't do dates. He probably had some world record for one-night stands.

Who was I to judge?
I walked through the halls and to the gym.
My mask in place.
No one was there as well.
What the hell was going on?
Men and women should be training here.

Putting my Air Pods in I headed to the treadmill and began my warm-up.
Three miles later four sets of squats and pushups and plank it's time for my favorite part.

I walked to my bag and wrapped my hands.
I needed to punch something.
I got lost in the loud music of AC/DC in my ears.
I got lost in the combinations I directed to the punching bag.
I got lost in my thoughts-

Next month...

Next month wasn't something I wanted to remember. But its memories crawled into my mind no matter how hard I tried to forget them. To bury them. To drown them. And be done with them.
The feeling of pain was more than I could take. It broke me.
And even though it had been three years the pieces of my broken self were placed together. Patched together.
But the memories came back on that day. More alive more remonstrant and I couldn't shake them away.