Saints and Sinners

Alexander The Great

Edward's POV~

The roar of the crowd could be heard all the way in the locker room.

Everyone, I've learned, has a completely different reason for why they fight.

Some just don't want to die without a few scars. It's nothing anymore to have a beautiful stock body.  You see those cars that are completely stock cherry, right out of a dealer's showroom, I always thought, what a waste. It has no story. No character. I want a car that's a little dirty from life. A car with a forgotten toy underneath the seat. A stain on the carpet where Harry spilled his soda because he was laughing too hard.

But I had scars before I could fight. And sometimes, I wish I could scrub them clean off..I suppose that's what the tattoos are for.

Some people fight for the glory. They like the feeling of fame and glory and success.

Some fight for the money. A way to survive or a way to get rich.

Some people are just born to fight, I think. It's not really that they're born brave. It's not that they're born strong. It's just that the universe has decided that this one, this one will have grit and fire and steel in their blood. And it will be tested, this cosmic mettle of theirs. They'll face trial after trial, be broken and damaged in countless ways.

But this one was born to fight.

Maybe it's not the life they would have chosen. Maybe they'd love to lay down their arms. But they were born to fight. It's what they know. It's what they do best. It's all they can do.

For we are the children of Ares.
And like Ares; a war rages inside me.

The rules are simple: only two guys to a fight. One at a time. They fight without shoes or shirts. The fights go on as long as they have to. When someone says stop, or goes limp, even if they're just faking it, the fight is over. And of course the obvious; "you don't talk about fight club." But most people do anyway. How else would we make enough money off idiots placing bets in the audience?

Who guys are in fight club is not who they are in the real world. After a night of fights, everything in the real world gets the volume turned down.

There's a feeling of ecstasy that makes it so almost nothing can piss you off. You aren't alive anywhere like you are during a fight. Nothing was solved when the fight was over, but nothing mattered.

All that mattered was the jelly-limbed feeling deep in your bones and the silence in your mind where buzzing thoughts once were. The satisfaction of cracked knuckles and collapsing onto a soft bed after a long day. Or in my case, Zayn's floor. But the feeling of safely remained.

Zayn was out there..in the stands. And for the first time, so was Liam. But I wasn't sure if that was for my benefit or for Bret's.

There were two fights before mine. The second one was sure to be ending soon, by the sound of the crowd.

I felt bad for Bret, but I needed to win.

***
Bret's POV~

"Liam Payne, aren't you in the wrong locker room?" Adrian smirked as he stepped out of the doorway. My neck snapped in his direction so fast I should've gotten whiplash. I felt my shoulders stiffen as he came closer.

"I was just wishing Bret good luck." Liam stood up, "oh, I'm sure you were. But he's not allowed visitors back here before a match."

"I'm his boyfriend." Liam warned, sensing my fear. Adrian laughed, "I don't think so, Bret's my property. He dates who I tell him to date."