Glory.

3

I waltzed into the locker room, immediately greeted by the others. "What's up, Yani?" Fitz shouted over the loud chattering of the other men. I nodded in his direction and plopped down on the bench. That morning workout never failed me.

Only a few moments later did Blu finally come in. The chattering seized and eyes went into his direction. He seemed uncomfortable under everyone's gaze. "Is it something on my fucking face?" He finally yelled, slamming his fist on his already battered locker before inserting the key into his lock.

Over these few weeks, I began to notice that I wasn't the only person with a fiery hatred for Blu and that nearly everyone despised him—it was comforting almost.

I sat up, drying my face with a towel and walked over to my own locker. I was about to start changing until I heard Blu's harsh and abrasive voice. "You motherfuckers!" The large man shouted at the top of his lungs. I turned on my heels to see what had gotten him so worked up.

Oh...

Someone had put a dildo inside of Blu's locker, with a sticky note that read 'Enjoy yourself!'. I was aware of his sexuality but personally, I'm not homophobic nor did I see a problem with it. It was him I hated, not his gayness.

"Who did this?" He shouted, flinging the toy across the room with a rough toss. The obnoxious laughter died down as everyone began to notice that his breathing was erratic and his fists were balled up. Pranks like this on Blu weren't uncommon but I guess today he was fed up. Last week it had been a tampon dipped in ketchup.

"Relax," Fitz chuckled. "It's a prank. Got something up your ass already?" He walked closer to the angry man. I watched from afar as this unfolded, knowing the outcome wasn't going to be pretty. Fitz was a skinny, skinny man with a beer belly but from what I heard, he backed his shit up.

Blu gave the man a hard shove, causing his shoulder to hit the lockers with a sickening crack. "Fuck!" He yelled. But despite Blu obviously injuring the man, he didn't stop. He pounced.

The first punch glanced Fitz's chin. The second punch doubled him over and expelled the last bit of choked air from his beer-weighted belly. Not going to lie, it was a hell of a shot.

Blu stood straight, eyes bulging with rage, and stared his opponent in the eyes. "Fucking pussy!" Blu took a lurching step forward with each swear word. And finally, he swung. He muttered something about fucking Fitz in the ass, to which we all shared bewildered looks.

The blow seemed too sluggish. Fitz ducked under it and before Blu could even register the dodge, Fitz swung. He hit him in the gut with what seemed to be all his power—I winced, watching as the man hunched over in pain. He was hit again but in the chin this time.

I was starting to feel bad.

He was defending himself after all.

"Okay, okay," I shouted, grabbing Fitz. He howled in pain, snatching away his limp arm—probably dislocated.

"Don't fucking touch me!" He slurred. Blood from his busted lip stained his chin, dripping onto his tank top. "Back off." He ordered. I held my hands up as if I was surrendering.

After shoving past the man, I walked over to my 'partner'. He smiled in triumph, blood staining his teeth and his arm over his stomach.

We're going to catch hell for this, I thought.

"Are you..." I swallowed, watching his features harden. "um, okay?" I finally spat out. He looked up at me with disgust almost and stood up from the bench he had sat on.

"Fuck off." He mumbled, purposely bumping into me on his way to the bathroom.

When the banging of the sink echoed into the locker room, I realized what he was doing. He'd do this often—let inanimate objects bear the brunt of his anger. The locker room bathroom was one of many. The sink was practically falling apart, toilet seat broken, mirrors banged up and dried blood staining the walls.

Blue had a temper.

A bad one.

"Coffee? Or brunch?" He questioned, his bruised knuckles looked painful as he gripped the steering wheel. He was back to being annoyingly cheery. And I don't think I'd complain this time—better than watching him blackout. "We have a little time." He looked over at me with a cheeky grin. I pretended to scoff.

"Surprise me."

"Brunch." He answered quickly. "I know a great place."

By that, he meant a plaza filled with food trucks. I didn't mind—it reminded me of home almost. I settled for Esquites and I wasn't disappointed; it reminded me of my mother.

She could be soft and tender at moments though her most vulnerable times were now, on her death bed. She was the gentle woman I knew from my childhood and much opposite of the cold, distant woman I grew accustomed to in my teen years. It was odd seeing her so quiet and...soft. Her voice wasn't as harsh anymore, it was soothing and sweet when I'd heard it on the phone a few times. I hadn't mustered up the courage to call recently so moments where I'd see a daisy or a stray kitten or taste an Esquites with a too familiar recipe, I'd think of her fondly.

"That looks...appealing." Blu tried to compliment but I could tell he was slightly disgusted. He had gotten a simple corn dog and a slushee—couldn't help but to shake my head. Typical Americans.

"You eat your grotesque product of capitalism and processed labor and I will eat my delicacy." I simply said, shoveling the food into my mouth. His eyebrows rose and he chuckled.

As I looked up, a smirk growing on my face, a woman caught my eye. She was tall with a petite frame, her hair in two large 4c puffs—she wore a short skirt and crop top with knee high socks. I felt myself lusting over her; my phallus immediately hardened.

Fuck.

Blu followed my gaze. "Woah, you got-" He cleared his throat. "A-erm...situation there, Yanis." The man, obviously flustered, stuttered.