His Addiction

Chapter 1

Wyatt's Point of View

"I wouldn't mind getting down for him," Wyatt heard the girl mutter to her friends as he passed their little group.

The side of his lip turned up into a slight smirk as he scoffed internally. It was always the same reaction he got with any girl he passed. Either they wanted him or they wanted to do him. 

Standing at a height of six feet and seven inches, it wasn't surprising he drew attention wherever he went but it was the size of him that really drew people's eyes. His biceps flexed tauntingly under the white shirt he wore as his defined abdominal muscles  stretched teasingly against the material. People were usually intimated by his wide shoulders that added to his demeanor and combined with his long, muscular legs, they definitely stared.

"Whatever," Wyatt thought nonchalantly.

He didn't have time to worry about girls like them who just giggled and blushed all the fucking time.

 Yeah, he looked good now but what about the few years ago when all the other guys bullied him because he was so puny. They picked on him constantly and made him feel as if he was a mistake.

"Weak," he muttered to himself.

God he hated them.  

All his life he felt different and he was mocked for it causing him to feel alienated and left out. What would they say now that he was built and taller. He knew he was definitely bigger than them.

Oh how he wished he could intimidate them they way they did to him and how they made him feel.

As soon as he was able to, he docked out of there and never regretted it, all the hours he spent pushing himself in the gym till his muscles ached and his lungs hurt. He welcomed that pain and was now accustomed to it.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get up!" were the words his instructor always said to him when he felt he couldn't do it anymore, when all the memories he experienced dug back up and he was once again that awkward, little boy who couldn't do shit for himself. 

Now, he was back and better than ever. So in reality, no, no he didn't have time for daft girls and their giggles when other things needed to be done.

Wyatt passed yet another group of teenage girls that stared at him as he walked down the street. He scowled menacingly as they checked him out.

"Look away," he muttered.

He hated their stares and their short clothes and their hair and their laughs.

"No wonder you're still a motherfucking virgin," he thought to himself darkly.

He kept his head down, hands stuffed into his pockets as he looked down the cracked pavement. His thoughts wandered to his mom as he mumbled to himself.

Two more electricity bills, one more debt.
Did I go talk to the bank about the mortgage?

These thoughts consumed him as a thick cloud of fatigue rolled over him. Wyatt was tired and his fucking trainer wouldn't shut up about the next boxing tournament coming up but he had school to worry about as well, particularly his grades.

As he approached the gym, he passed by a small thing. 

Nevermind, it was just another girl, but damn she looked hot. As she passed, a sweet, lingering smell wafted up to him. 

Delicious

He turned around and looked back up to see her gone, nowhere in sight. How weird

Wyatt just shrugged his shoulders as he prepared himself to face the wrath of his trainer.

Graham, was a good looking guy and pretty cool, once he didn't open his mouth that is. He was buffer than Wyatt and about the height of a fucking telephone pole. At 6"9 he caught the attention of everyone but he was too rude that they usually lost interest right after.

"You're 5 minutes late Renzo," the gruff voice of Graham sounded as he sat on the bench press looking at his phone.

"Was busy", was all Wyatt said as he went to change.

He just came in but he was already wanting to leave.

After awhile, he had changed and was warmed up and ready to practice. Graham was already in the ring as his piercing eyes followed Wyatt, biceps bulging as his arms were crossed.

Wyatt sighed softly.

"Here we go again", he thought.

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Wyatt's body protested silently as he headed out of the gym. Graham was pushing him extra hard and showed no mercy. His arms and legs ached and he was sure he was sporting a black eye from how hard Graham had punched him.

Speaking of the devil, seconds later Graham came strolling out with his gym bag slung behind his shoulder as he smoked a cigarette. His black hair was messy and he wore a dark t-shirt with denim jeans and his usual combat boots.

He was headed straight towards him and he looked angry.

"You better start practicing harder if you wanna win you hear me Renzo," Graham spat as he stood before him.

"Yeah," was all he said nonchalantly.

Graham scoffed and stated, "I spoke to some of my guys down in the Rig. You have a match there tomorrow night so you better be ready."

Wyatt glanced up at him as a sense of worry passed through him. But he showed no emotion on his face as he replied, "Can't, that's my ma's birthday. I'm unavailable plus you know I'm busy with school and work."

"Don't fucking care. You're expendable to me and I own your ass so you'll make yourself available tomorrow."

Wyatt sighed internally but he had to try to ask Graham for a leeway as he had promised his mom he would be with her. She was still sick and the headache never left her. She was all alone in the hospital so he would definitely want to be with her on her special day.

"Look man," Wyatt started, "I can't okay? But I swear if you just give me tomorrow I'll try to be here everyday. I'll even do the weekend down in Boston. You know I hate Reggie's guys but I'll do it but not tomorrow. I'll take the matches so you just gotta let Mikey know."

Graham smiled cynically as his eyes flashed with brief amusement.

"Ok. You'll fight with Reggie's boys and I'll call Mikey about the details and you better be here every single fucking day."

Wyatt breathed a sigh of relief internally as his shoulders relaxed slightly. Still with no emotion present he replied, " Thanks man."

As he turned to go and crash at home, he heard Graham say,

"Oh, and Renzo... you're still on for tomorrow."