Jab My Heart [Boy×Boy]

Chapter 2: Anger and Frustration

It's morning and I'm getting warmed up for my first trial match today. My oponent's physic is not so intimidating. I'm sure I have bigger muscles than him, although I'm not very buff myself. But I know better than to underestimate my oponent. He could surprise me with a well thought out strategy, which is how I usually win my matches. My dad always told me from a tender age:

1.] Always keep your eyes on your opponent
2.] Never let you feelings overrule your principles.

The last advice however, has always been my downfall.

*Flashback*

"Come on son! Is that all you got? Huh?!" I hear my father's voice...faint due to my throbbing headache over powering every sound around me.

"I don't f-feel too well" I stutter while trying to get up. My vision blurry and my eyes hooded with exhaustion.

"You should've thought of that before you and your underaged friends went to get yourselves drunk! Consider this as your punishment." Before I could even stand up straight another fist insulated with a boxing glove connected with my jaw. I stumbled at the sudden impact and leaned on the yard's statue for support.

"You gonna let this old man beat you Adam huh?! You throwing less and less punches as the minutes go by." My father says, a bit if mockery in his words. He knows I hate losing.

Damn he knows just how to press the wrong buttons!

I hit my head with my hands that are covered in boxing gloves as if commanding the headache to go away at once, as I charge towards the figure standing across the yard which happens to be my dad.

There is something in the way my father mentored me which automatically makes my oponent faceless and nameless. The toxins in my body are quickly replaced by anger.

My left shoulder connects with his abdomen driving his back to the wall. I hold him there but he retaliates by hitting my lower back repeatedly, forcing me to let him go and stand up straight. I jab on his cheek immediately not giving him a chance the recover but he doesn't look stunned at all. Instead his gaze is fixed on me. I go for an upper cut aiming for the base of his jaw but he blocks causing me to stumble backwards. I feel another punch connecting on the side of my left eye causing me to slightly flinch and another on my jaw in a split second not allowing me to even breathe. As soon as I open my eyes again I catch a glimpse of his face before he showers me with aimed and precise punches one after another forcing me to block the whole time. He looked surprisingly calm and his eyes were on me and nothing else...How is he so calm!

Anger is so evident on my face that my eyes were beaded with tears not allowing to see clearly. I'm sure I was red too because of the beating I just got and because of the emotion that is consuming me. I swing punches at him but can't seem to connect as he keeps ducking and blocking my attempts. On the other hand his keep connecting with my jaw, making my frustration build to exponential levels.

I suddenly stop fighting placing my fist on my thighs, panting due to exhaustion. I feel the adrenaline slowly seeping away as I calm down. My head starts to throb once again, the anger replaced by nausea. I suddenly have the urge to vomit. I quickly take off my gloves and kneel on the grass as the half digested food from last night egests my body through my mouth.

"That's right. Get all the alcohol out of your system," my father says as he kneels besides me placing his large hand on my shoulder. " I hope you learnt your lesson today son..." I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand before facing him. This fight left an unpleasant taste in my mouth both literally and figuratively. "Never let your emotions control your game."

*End of flashback*

A hand holds my shoulder snapping me out of my thoughts. I look up to see who the hand belongs to.

"Hey," Richard greets weakly his hand using my shoulder as his support the other holding his head. Obviously hungover.

"Wow! You look like you got hit by a train." I give him a brief amused smile

"Whatever," he mutters lazily sitting down in front of me on the apron of the ring. "By the way thanks for driving my drunk ass home last night. Oh dear friend what on EARTH would I do without you." He jokes, dramatically and playfully holding his chest and wiping fake tears. I smile at his stupidity.

"Although I need you to do another favour for me," he says with pleading eyes.

"What is it?" I sigh in defeat

"So...it's going to be my cousin's bash party soon aaand I don't know what to buy him as a gift."

"If you don't know how will I know what he wants?"

"Well...I kinda know--"

"What do you want Richard?!" I snap at him mid-sentence. He doesn't get scared though. I guess he's used to my temper.

"Woah chill bro. No need to be agro. Okay look, you are his favourite boxer and he doesn't even know we know each other so your presence will be a surprise to die for!" He excitedly suggests. Showing me his 360º smile you'd swear his eyes disappeared

I'm definitely not in the mood for another party. I don't like crowded places and loud music. It's a bash party so there'll definitely be alcohol and Richard will definitely get drunk. Leaving me feeling left out with a bunch of kids. I snort at the thought. Richard sees this and as if reading my mind, "I also invited some of my other friends so it won't just be the younger ones. They're really nice company. You won't even have to do the talking."

He knows me too well. Richard has been my only true friend so far and he's done a lot for me even though he doesn't realise it. I guess I'm not one to let people know how much they affect me. We're quite a weird combination I must admit. He's wild, I'm timid. He's warm-hearted, kind, social, compassionate and can easily express his feelings through music and words. I'm cold, rarely laugh, and as far as I'm concerned feelings are a weakness. Richard's friends must be a lot like him. I guess it wouldn't hurt to have more Richards in my friendzone and I kinda feel bad for snapping at him earlier so that's the only reason why I say...

"Cool, count me in." He opens his eyes wide in shock.

"Wow, I really thought this was gonna be difficult." Richard says with a victorious smile on his face but it quickly fades.

"Hey Richard! The equipment isn't gonna take itself out of the storeroom." The unimpressed fitness coach calls behind us.

"Oops! Duty calls. Pick me up Friday night at 6pm."

"Good luck with your hangover" I tease

As soon as Richard leaves I put my game face on turning back to the oponent I was assessing earlier. Putting on my ring gear I step into the ring. Eyeing my oponent closely, searching for the slightest hint of weakness. He isn't taking this trial match seriously. He's exuding arrogance...he's trying to intimidate me. Seems like someone doesn't know the difference between confidence and arrogance. A satisfied smirk creeps onto my lips.

Feelings over principles...

weakness.

Too easy

A/N: Author fun fact:
I love traveling and I'd like to speak 5 languages. Well so far I can speak only 3. Getting there!