FIGHTING FOR YOU

The locker room smelled like sweat, blood, and stale energy. My gloves hung heavy over my shoulders, my mind scattered between fights I'd won, fights I'd ruined, and nights I couldn't remember. I laughed at a joke no one really made, muttered, "If I could, I'd kill that mf before the first round even started," and tossed a bottle against the wall.

My friends shook their heads, hyping me up anyway. "Hanny... you really don't want to drink tonight. You've got the next match. Don't be careless," one said.

Another friend leaned close, trying to pull me back to something resembling reason. "Nah... you've got fire. But tonight could be different. You might... want to change the routine, next match is the finale practice maybe?"

I laughed, loud, sharp, broken. "I think I'll keep ruining myself. Fire's enough."

When I stepped into the ring, it was all noise. screaming fans, flashing lights, sweat, metal, adrenaline. My opponent snarled, the referee barked, and I moved like a storm no one could track.

Then I noticed it, something red in the crowd. Not distinct, not clear. Just a flicker, a movement that felt... out of place. My stomach twisted. I didn't know her, didn't know why I noticed her, didn't care. And yet, there was something in the way she watched or maybe I imagined it that made my chest tighten. I didn't care, I didn't even glance again. I could hear the crowd for the first time cheering, conversations, shouts. It was different it felt different. Maybe every match i have heard this. and been like this. Maybe tonight i didn't try to avoid it. I actually listened i wanted to know, i wanted to hear it.

I cared, but why? I glanced at her again... She looked quiet just looking, admiring, or maybe i wanted her to admire me. Everything felt different, the lights, the smell, the voices.

Like i finally felt alive, like wanting to hear her voice made me feel alive. It terrified me.
But only one thought was on my mind, Who is she?