Beside

33 - fight

"Fox! Fox! FOX! I lost a tooth, Fox! Look! Miss Blight put it in a bag!"

"Plant it. Maybe a tooth tree will grow."

"UGH! What is wrong with you!? That's disgusting! Imagine a tree dangling with teeth instead of fruit!"

"Jeez, sorry. Don't plant it then."

ｃｈｒｉｓ

I saw a fight once, but only once. And oddly enough, it was between Fox's older brother, and a kid ten times his size. Faro's hand was shaking like he had a brain tumour, a tremor. So everyone assumed that kid would win. But he didn't; Faro did.

After I was admitted to the hospital, not much to see in terms of physical violence. However, there's something to be said for the nature of cardiopulmonary resuscitation. It can be violent.

The moment I step into the arena, I wish I didn't have to be here. And I know I don't, but I do. For Fox, yes, but for Cam, who's hauling me toward the VIP overhang above it all. Noah and Jed are already waiting.

This isn't really Skyfall—it's an adjacent building. And we're deep in the bowels of it.

It's like an opera house, but the stage is a boxing ring, and the crowd is all around. And it's dark and light, blood and black. Alive, and dead.

Cam shoves me closer to the railing. "Best seat in the house, baby!"

I squeeze the strap of my bag, my palms sweaty. "Thanks." My voice is high and tight.

It's bigger than I expected—more space, less chaos—and I'm grateful for the breathing room. But still, my nerves don't ease.

"What if he gets hurt?" I murmur under my breath.

"He'll bounce back," Noah says, staring blankly at the empty ring below. He's casually leaning against the railing, as though this is just another day at the gym. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

"See ya on the flip side!" Cam says before backing into the crowd with a creepy grin that makes Noah laugh.

Cam explained on the ride here that this isn't exactly boxing, but mixed martial arts, which is why it's different for Fox. All he's done thus far is boxing. And this isn't... that.

Jed's fidgeting with a stone. It's red, smooth. "This will be heavy." His eyes are wide as he gazes around. "We're standing on a pressure point of the earth's energy." His voice trails off as his eyes flick toward the ceiling. "Fluttering pressure."

I bite back a nervous laugh.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" An announcer's voice booms through the arena. The lights dim. My breath hitches. "Tonight, in the red corner, we have the reigning powerhouse, the undefeated, the destroyer—ONYX!"

I cover my ears at the raging roar of the crowd as Onyx steps up into the ring.

He's horrible—all pale and bulging and massive. His shorts are red, his gloves are red—everything about him radiates a bloodiness that the crowd feeds off of. There's a surge as he circles the ring. He hollers, raises his hands, and builds it all up.

"Dick," Noah mumbles. I can't believe I catch it.

The hair on the back of my neck prickles. Undefeated destroying powerhouse?! The way he flexes his muscles, the way he bounces on his toes with that predatory grin—it's hard to imagine Fox taking him down.

"In the blue corner, " the announcer continues, his voice dropping low, filled with that building tension. "Ladies and gentlemen, our underdog of the evening. Wet behind the ears—MERCY!"