Broken Souls

1. Strings and Scars

Manik sat in his messy apartment, his fingers moving gracefully over the strings of his guitar. The tune he played was eerie, mirroring the chaos hidden behind his calm appearance. His small living space was filled with posters of his favorite bands, their faces looking down at him like silent idols. The walls, which were once a plain white, now showed signs of many late-night jam sessions and occasional bursts of anger. Empty coffee cups and crumpled papers were scattered everywhere, reflecting the wild energy that drove both his music and his restless mind.

The city outside was a blur of bright lights and loud noise, like a living creature with its own heartbeat. New York City was a place where dreams could come true or fall apart. Every corner of the city promised something new, yet also carried the burden of unmet hopes. For Manik, the city was both a safe haven and a battlefield. It was a place where he could immerse himself in his music, allowing him to escape the overwhelming thoughts of a future and past he couldn't avoid. The city's energy helped him forget his troubles for a while, offering him a temporary refuge from the pressures he faced.

At twenty-five years old, Manik Malhotra found himself reluctantly poised to inherit Malhotra Enterprises, a vast and powerful empire built on steel and unyielding ambition. His father, Alejandro Malhotra, had established the family's legacy with a fierce determination that Manik found hard to match. Since childhood, he had been prepared and shaped to take over the family business, molded into the image of a future corporate leader. The idea of stepping into that role felt suffocating to Manik, like a life trapped in a golden cage rather than a future he could genuinely embrace.

But Manik had other passions, secrets he kept hidden from his father's watchful gaze. Beneath the polished facade of a dutiful son lay a different reality—a world where he shed his tailored suits for worn-out jeans and leather jackets. In this hidden world, Manik found himself far from the boardroom negotiations that defined his father's expectations. Instead, he immersed himself in the adrenaline rush of the underground fight scene, where the stakes were personal, and the battles were raw and visceral. Each fight was a test of his strength and will, far removed from the corporate battles he faced in his daily life. This was Manik's escape, his way of feeling alive, away from the pressures of being the perfect son.

As Manik played his guitar, his thoughts drifted to the night ahead. The evening promised a mix of danger and a chance for relief. Earlier, he had received a text message that was vague but clear about its purpose. It was an invitation to an underground fight. This wasn't just any fight; it was for people looking for something beyond just money or fame. It was a brutal event where pain was the only currency and hope for redemption seemed like an impossible dream.

The text message buzzed again, snapping Manik out of his daydream. He looked at his phone and read the message once more: "Tonight. The Pit. Be there." A rush of adrenaline surged through him, mixing with a well-known feeling of anxiety. The Pit was infamous among underground fighters—a secretive place where there were hardly any rules and the stakes were incredibly high. Manik had been there before, finding some relief in the rough and intense fighting, a brief escape from the emotional struggles that haunted him.

He put down his guitar and stood up, stretching out his sore muscles. Tonight, his apartment felt like a small, confining space, almost like a prison. The walls seemed to close in on him more and more as time went by. He moved over to the window, and the cool breeze coming from the city below gave him a brief break from the intense heat of his thoughts. As he looked out, he saw the city lights twinkling in the distance. Each light seemed to remind him of the life he was supposed to live and the dreams he was expected to pursue.

The sudden ringing of the doorbell snapped Manik out of his thoughts. He looked up with a frown and checked the clock on the wall. It was quite late, and he wasn't expecting any visitors at this hour. With a sense of unease, he slowly walked towards the door. As he approached, he took a moment to look through the peephole. On the other side of the door, he saw his friend Ethan, who seemed to be waiting with a look of impatience. Manik felt a moment of hesitation before finally deciding to open the door.