Drowning

One;

I'd spent the longest time trying to figure everything out; trying to figure out who I was, where I belonged, how to belong. I wasted many years doing this, only to find out one little secret; there's no such thing. We evolve, we grow, we change. We're never 'found', we're never lost. We belong where we sit comfortably. We belong where flowers bloom.

-

"How are you feeling?" my coach asks.

"Sick to my stomach, Bill." I chuckle, shaking my head.

The fight was tonight, in a mere fifteen minutes. I hated the wait, the anticipation, but I thrived on the adrenaline.

"You'll smash it. He's all talk," Bill, the coach, says to me, regarding my opponent for the night.

"Hm," I hum, nerves filling my body.

The truth was, my opponent, Gates, had never missed a hit, and had never lost a fight, ever. You'd watch him on the tele and it'd be like watching a wild boar attack his prey. He was ruthless and relentless and I hardly stood a chance.

"Just remember; all that matters is that you play fair. No immoral hits, no-"

"No real fight, I know." I sigh, shaking my head.

The rules were always the same. Despite boxing being a sport where two opponents fought, it couldn't be done immorally, brutally. It couldn't be personal. You couldn't hit below the belt, and your only tools were your hands, nothing else. Bill liked to remind me of these little rules before every single fight, but I'd heard them too many times before to need to hear it again.

"You're a winner, Harry. Always have been. He may have never lost, but neither have you," Bill says, lighting up a cigarette, indoors.

"Don't do that in here," I sigh.

"Doors open." Bill shrugs.

We were in the concrete hallway, just seconds away from the ring room. The fire escape was open, purely because it was a stuffy August evening. Not so that Bill could smoke.

"Not the point," I say.

"Just listen to me, Haz," he sighs, taking a drag from the cigarette. "I know you've never been up against someone who's on the same level as you before, in terms of winning, but that doesn't mean to say that you're gonna lose. 'Cos you know, if you lose-"

"It'll ruin my reputation, Bill. I know. You think I don't already know that?" I hiss, allowing my frustration to get the best of me.

"You've got this," Bill chuckles. "Got ya little girlfriend in the crowd, 'n all." he says, smiling smugly.

"Not my girlfriend." I huff, blowing smoke away from my face.

Bill was referring to Gina. She was just a friend, truly. She came to a select few of my matches, depending on where they were held. We'd buy drinks afterwards and then spend the night together. But we were just friends. I had no intentions of ever taking things further with her because I just didn't care for anything serious at the moment, or ever.

"Time to go out to the ring, Haz." Bill says, tapping his cigarette on the side of a bin before throwing it in there. I nodded my head, feeling the nerves dance around in my stomach, like wolves mocking their inferior.

Bill guided me out to the ring, taking me down to the side of it. Gates was yet to arrive. He was probably warming up by kicking puppies somewhere.

"Water?" Bill says, shoving my bottle in my face. I took a small swig, not wanting to overfill on it. "Mouth guard." he says. I opened my mouth, and he placed it in.