Scars

Long lost

"Now, Nemesis. You've heard of Browne incorporated, and so I have to tell you that..." Alan trailed off and ran a hand through his hair.

Browne incorporated Is a company that sponsors fights, this corporation is the start of pro fighting. I intend to make it to there one day. "What about it?" I looked at him intently.

"Well, umm... they want to meet with me. They need some new talent." Alan's eyes shined with pride and excitement swirled inside my stomach. But then there was the mysterious emotion behind the pride that was still haunting him.

"Is there something wrong?" I look at him straight in the eyes and I see worry then shame and finally his eyes turned cold. Never in my life had I seen Alan's eyes filled with so much hatred and anger, but I could tell it wasn't aimed at me.

His eyes were no longer focused on me, but at something behind me. His gaze was so murderous, I thought maybe Justin Bieber walked into his gym. My head snapped to the front doors and there stood James Browne. He owned the whole whole corporation and had a wife and four sons. He was about forty, he took over the place after his father Mark past away ten years ago. The way he walked over to Alan, was like he was floating on air. Alan still stared hatefully at the man who was approaching us. He wore a black suit and blue tie with a pressed white collared shirt. I think he was wearing a million bucks. What I couldn't understand was, why this man was in the worst place in New York. Two huge men followed behind Mr Browne, I think body guards, by the way they walked I could tell it would be simple for me to take them both down, maybe even at the same time.

Mr Browne now stood in front of Alan and smiled sickly. What struck me about him though was his eyes. They were a color I knew all to well, a color I saw ever day in the mirror. They were the same emerald green as mine, they sparkled with mischief as He and Alan had a stare down.

James, after a couple of minutes, broke into a glimmering smile and threw his arms around Alan. They hugged and separated. Alan no longer looked angry but he looked sad, then as If remembering something brought up his child expression once again.

"Alan, how long has it been?" James turned to the gym and laughed. "What have you been doing? Not just owning this gym I hope?"

"As a matter of fact James, I have. Oh, I'm being rude." Alan looks at me then back at James. "James, Nemesis. NEMESIS, James."

"Alan, I didn't know you had a daughter. I didn't think you ever got married," James chuckled.

"I didn't. This is my foster daughter." Alan grind his teeth and turned to order around some poor guy that was punching someone else in the ring. Then he turned back to James and I. "So what brings you here? When you called, you didn't say much."

"Well, I just came to see some talent. You were my best fighter so I know you have taught some good fighters, have you not?" James raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Yes. A very street famous one actually." Alan said crossing his arms in a defensive way.

"Well, I need a new fighter, a new face for my company. So, I'm having a contest, a competition. Bring a couple fighter and that very special one. My best fighter will fight the winner." James took out some papers from his brief case and handed them to Alan, who handed them to me.

"Fine," Alan spat. Why was he so angry? And why did James' eyes match mine?

"Is that anyway to treat family?" James smirked.

"We are hardly family." Alan was shooting steam and I could tell these two had a lot of history. Wait. Family? Did they just say family?

SO.... SRRY ABOUT THE LONG WAIT. IM USUALLY FASTER WITH UPDATES. IVE BEEN SOOOO BLOCKED. THIS IS WHAT I HAVE. ITS NOT VERY LONG, I KNOW. I HOPE TO GET THE NEXT PART OUT IN A COUPLE DAYS. IVE HAD A SPARK OF CREATION TO THIS STORY. BE READY FOR MORE TENTION.

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