The Art of the Hustle 2 (Complete)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Trevor entered the emergency room of St. Paul's Hospital, a place he didn't care to visit. Seeing the medical staff brought him back to a place where he didn't want to be reminded of. He even stopped by the room in which he last saw Ashley's lifeless body covered with a sheet. It nearly crippled him, but he tried his best to block out those thoughts. After taking a deep breath and dealing with his emotions, he went to check on Deon.

Trevor found the room and entered just as the doctor was finishing up with the stitches.

"How is he?" Trevor asked.

"He'll live to fight another day," the doctor said.

"Thanks, doc."

As much as Trevor wanted to tell him all the ways Deon messed up, he just sat there and comforted him. None of Deon's so-called friends were there, which was a wake-up call for Deon. His life needed to change, and he knew it.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to lecture you. I here as a friend."

"Thank, man," Deon said.

"Don't mention it."

"You were right, okay?" Deon said. "I learned my lesson."

"Which is?"

"I have to stop this fight club, it's dangerous."

"I think that's a wise choice. Are there any other lessons you learned?"

"Yeah," Deon said sombrely. "I need to listen to you."

"You don't always have to listen to me, but listen to your gut. I think an important lesson we can learn from this is that sometimes we are outmatched. Sometimes we are up against someone who is bigger, stronger, faster, smarter, richer... whatever the case may be. We need to recognize when the odds are not in our favour and retreat while we still have something left. And that's okay. There's nothing wrong with that. It's not cowardice, it's being smart. As the doctor said, we live to fight another day."

"I need the money though. I'm not sure what else to do. And now that I'm not running the fight club and making the landlord money, he'll likely kick me out. Not that that matters anyway because I can't afford to pay rent."

"Don't worry, you'll land on your feet. I got you," Trevor assured.

"You don't even know the half," Deon said.

"Then tell me the half."

Deon paused for a moment before letting Trevor know truly how bad his situation was.

"Let's just say I've done some bad things in the past and I've got involved with the wrong types of people. I don't know what to do, man," Deon said as he began crying. "I'm so screwed. I messed up."

"It's okay, Deon, we all make mistakes," Trevor said. "Don't worry, everything is going to be okay."

Trevor did his best to comfort him. Although he didn't really know Deon all that well, they had formed a tight bond and he felt bad for the kid.

Deon was hurting in more ways than one. Much like Trevor had done, Deon had reached his breaking point. He was sitting in an emergency room with a broken nose, several stiches, a swollen eye, and a concussion. Confronting his reality had him feeling low. He was a high-school dropout with no job, no money, no prospects, likely no place to live, and a little girl to take care of. That was his reality. It was the lowest of the lows for him and his future looked bleaker than when Trevor was down and out.

"What am I going to do?" he asked, still sniffling.

"You're going to heal up, continue with your studies, and then find a job."

"Who's going to hire a punk like me? I'm a high-school dropout," he said.

"People don't know that. People only know what you tell them. And if you think of yourself as a punk, then what do you suppose other people will see you as? As far as being a high-school dropout, that's temporary. You're working hard to fix that. That's all life is, taking one step at a time. If you add up enough of those steps, you will make progress. Be patient."

"What do you want me to do, work at the Gap and sell khakis?"

"You could that. I did that when I first moved to Vancouver."

"Nah, I ain't about that life."

"What life are you about? The one where you get beat up for $500 dollars? Or the one where you're a single dad with no place to live? Look man, I'm not here to sugar coat things because you're not a little kid so I'm going to be real with you. Life is going to be harder for you in all sorts of ways, but don't let that define you."

"What defines me is my circumstances. Raised by a single mom who was addicted to drugs, absentee dad, high-school dropout with a kid, resorting to crime... I get it, typical story of a lowlife."

"There's no doubt you've had a hard life and that isn't fair. But don't worry, we're going to break that cycle."