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Tamed & Damaged
Just Durdens
Fight Club
Tyler . Jack
1
Crunched Nerves
The packing sound of their jaws cracked through the small basement. Tyler ventured the outer lines, the members' backs facing him in all their shining and sweating beauty. He passed behind. I couldn't watch, never could. No matter how loud they screamed, how many times they get their heads slammed into the concrete. These creamed lashes were creating marks into the fragile skin beneath from being shut so tightly. He swept his callused hand briefly across, hair dangled softly after he continued circling the shouting crowd. The final slap brought an ignorant opening. Jack lay on the floor, unaware of the large gush of dark blood resting underneath his forehead.
The opponent lifted himself up and tumbled backwards. The members knew all too well to move, to make a path as soon as Jack rolled to his back and groaned in the same pain he had grown to love. The last member, a beautifully white haired boy, moved his luminescent head to the side. The rest of his sheen physique moved as well and cleared a moist, unsanitary pathway.
I rushed through, bumping into a few of their slick arms. "Jack," and knelt before his ruptured eardrum. "Someone help him up," Bob answered before I could move to the corner set specifically for these reasons. From there, I went to work: grabbing the gauze, antibiotics, needle and medical stitches. "Try not to move."
The needle entered his pale clammy facial skin and came back out with the black wire attached. Tyler walked over but not without encouraging the current fighters on. "How's it Doc?" he asked, patting his brother before leaning closer to see more of the gushing wound.
"It's a pretty deep cut. But with about ten stitches, this one can take on a rematch. No more fighting for at least a week," finished the first five stitches.
Jack smiled. A sheet of blood covering his teeth. "Leave it to you to keep me out of it," he hissed painfully. May have pulled a bit too much.
"Let's go home," Tyler snapped his fingers. His shirt flying shortly after into his grasp. Finished the end knot and placed all the supplies back into their drawers. "Keep going men, we're leaving. See you all next week!" They shout cheerfully in response. We were already above them. Jack leaning heavily for support. Thick sweat strides dripping into my jeans, seeping into the man-made holes above the knees.
The rain poured outside the bar. Its soothing sound was relaxing enough for even Jack to forget some of the pain. His tension melted more as the car's blurry headlights beamed closer. "Just because she's letting you lean on her doesn't mean you're advancing up the ladder," Tyler side glanced. I breathed out hard. A few raindrops actually swayed away from how forceful it was. It's completely ridiculous and somewhat childish for them to make such a competition as this.
A competition between the two brothers, Jack and Tyler. The winning, if it will ever come to an end, no matter how inappropriate or naïve, is me. The way of its flow, acceptance and mere, thrill perhaps is its drive. There was no choice quite frankly. I had no place else to go, to live.
In a more past term, they both found it useful for my joining their club, not through fighting since it was male dominance only, but through my expertise. I was a doctor at the most major hospital the city has. My license was taken when I disobeyed an insurance company's rule. A patient of mine was dying from lung disease and their insurance didn't cover the operation. I felt it was my duty, my place to ignore the company and go ahead with the surgery without charging the patient. Of course, they found out and dropped my eight years of schooling down the sewage pump. Tyler found me first, introduced to Jack, they offered a place to stay and now, I'm their club's personal doctor who doesn't ask questions.
So, this so called "uncivilized race for complete rapture," as Tyler puts it, started out as a fun joke we'd play around with. I'd be washing dishes and either Tyler or Jack would grab me from the water and twirl around the room shouting how many points they were receiving. But after a certain incident with Tyler getting a little too close in his bedroom, Jack turned it into something completely different. And eventually Tyler followed its intensity and serious context, to his degree. Those witnessing all of this think it's some glorious delusion but they couldn't be more wrong. This wasn't some fantastical battle between two knights fighting for a princess, this was some medieval torture war with an unbalanced favor for violence and jealousy.
There are some moments when the joking comes though. I always try to push the constant measure of its forth coming but either Tyler or Jack ignores such an attempt and turns it around. Today was one of those days. The drive to our misunderstood palace was like the ultimate shift from their fun loving selves to an uncomfortable obstacle. I sat in the middle, unsurprisingly, while Tyler drove with his hand visibly grasping the edge of my left knee and Jack's arm pressing rather tightly into my side and hip. Squished and sloping into annoyed. I felt like a tamed puppet having no choice but to obey its charming masters.
"The men had some fights today huh?" this won't work but I'd rather try. "I could tell by how fast they rotated. I mean usually they take their time between fights but today was different. What do you think Jack?"
He stayed like a marine. Tired gaze held forward, square jaw and long neck. Those dark circles were so enhanced from his pale skin. Tyler, on the other hand, could never be pale. Not with that tanned pigmentation. I'll never understand how he could achieve such a beautiful color. "Yea, knew you'd agreed."
"I think you should sleep in my room tonight," Tyler rolled into our deserted road, leaving the controversial statement picking at everyone's nerves.