Serena had no idea where she was. Aleks had pushed her into an unremarkable, silver Toyota Prius, which neither of them owned, before wordlessly driving to the outskirts of Brooklyn adamant in keeping their destination a surprise. She had watched her best friend's knee bounce in excitement as she contemplated how different they were from each other. Aleksa Perrie and Serena had been friends since they were four years old, yet they could not be more dissimilar. Aleks wreckless and outspoken, wild in every way, which contrasted Serena's well-practiced reserved and polite nature. Yet, she was the only person Serena considered a true friend over the past two decades and despite their differences, they were inseparable, even though she often wondered how they persevered throughout the years.
Aleks parked outside an isolated warehouse, whose wear had accumulated from what appeared to be years of abandonment. Serena’s eyes widened as she cautiously examined the foreboding presence of the rundown building. It was not uncommon for her to blindly follow her friend on some wild escapade, but she reconsidered her ignorance as she stepped out of the car, her nostrils filling with the smell of neglect. Entering the dilapidated building through large, rusted metal doors, they were immersed into a world completely unknown to her, illuminated by flickering lights hanging perilously from the exposed beams supporting the ceiling. She looked down upon the obscure red symbols stamped onto her sweating palm, which permitted her entry. Studying her hand more closely, she deciphered the three smudged letters: PIT.
Crushed within a sea of bodies, the oppressive heat and smell of perspiration unsettled her already fragile nerves. Hoarse, aggressive voices reverberated against the old, brown-brick walls of the dilapidated warehouse as men and women eagerly discussed the upcoming fight with zealous energy. Serena followed the insouciant laughter, pulled by a lightly tanned arm through the somewhat impenetrable mass of people. The laughter subsided as a pair of excited, bright green eyes noticed the subtle look of trepidation, penetrating the refined mask she usually wore. “Come on Sera! Don’t look so scared!” Aleks shouted above the thunderous noise, flinging her head around. “This is great!” Serena gave a weak smile looking at her one, true friend. She envied her. Aleks represented everything she craved. Excitement. Happiness. Freedom. She continued to follow the bouncing mass of auburn hair as nondescript figures pushed into her, assembling to form a ring. Haphazardly pushed into the front of the crowd, Serena analysed the scene before her. A round open space emerged from the restless multitude of bodies, vacant except for a single resident. The man standing in the centre of the circle appraised the spectators, the fingers of his heavily tattooed arms hooked into the belt loops of his distressed jeans revealing V-shape muscles below his abdomen.
The ringing of a handbell nearby silenced the tumultuous crowd as their attention immediately diverted to the man inside the ring. His coarse voice thundered through the adrenaline-fuelled atmosphere. “Ladies and gents, welcome to The Pit. For those who don’t know the rules, listen up! Place your bets before the fight starts, no switching sides ’cause you think the other fucker’s gonna win. You lose; you fucking take it like a man, don’t be a pussy and start shit in my place. You wanna fight, then you line up and wait your turn, but you better be prepared to take your own beat ass home.” The rugged announcer tensed the broad muscles under his fitted, black wife-beater as he cast a threatening glare at the crowd before looking down at the screen of his phone. “Chase Langdon, Mark Scott, you’re up! Fighters, no gear or consider yourselves fucking barred. First round starts in ten minutes. Let’s make some fucking mo-neeeey!” An eruption of cheers surfaced, as the announcer departed back into the crowd. Women screamed suggestive expletives, whilst men frantically exchanged their bets. Adrenaline laced through the fervent atmosphere of the warehouse, infecting all its occupants.
“Don’t move! I’m going to get us some drinks!” Aleks yelled, disappearing into the mass of bodies. She nodded, remaining motionless, as she watched the surge of activity flurry around her. Dressed in, navy blue slacks with a cream chiffon blouse and her trustworthy nude pumps, Serena noted that her clothing most likely wasn’t appropriate for the on-goings within the warehouse. Broken shards of glass bottles littered the floor, alcohol spilt from the arms of drunken attendees and duos publicly engaged in sexual displays. She stood unmoving as hoards of excited people pushed past her too preoccupied to notice her presence. A beer bottle suddenly emerged in her vision of sight, swaying precariously before she grabbed the cool glass with her hand. “Beer?” Serena questioned.
