The first short story of this collection a.k.a chronicle is one version of The Golden Boy's first meeting. If you don't know them, look them up on YouTube. I already have got two other stories in mind that were inspired by matches. But updates won't come too frequently. Hope you enjoy reading this first story of hopefully a nice little collection / chronicle in the future.

1 | Helping Hand

William really didn't want to be a coward. Hiding himself had already been an act of cowardice. But hiding himself when he saw someone being in trouble wasn't cowardice any more. It was a crime. Because William was a big and tall lad and he was just about to start with wrestling.

What a shameful introduction by himself, he thought. But then the other guy went, while the poor fellow on the receiving end crouched in one corner of that ring in the middle of the gym.

So, William finally moved inside that not so huge gym from behind his curtain and slowly went to the ring.

No-one else was around, even though it was just time for a late breakfast. But for William it was still early. His first training session wouldn't start before another hour of waiting. So, William guessed that perhaps his trainer would indeed just enjoy his first meal of the day.

But William didn't think of his first wrestling session right now. He was standing on the other side of the ring. And in that opposite corner this other guy was still sitting there, leaning against the ropes, licking his wounds.

And it was only now when William noticed that there were literal wounds. Blood was dripping on the mat from this lad's mouth and forehead. He looked so young and vulnerable that William felt sympathy in an instant.

The first impression certainly can always deceive.

But William made his way inside the ring, already a pack of tissues in his hand. And he offered it to the guy after he'd made his presence felt, doing his worst impression of a lung sick elderly man.

"You alright?" William finally wanted to know when the other guy still hasn't moved a bit to take the pack of tissues. And finally he seemed to notice when William removed one tissue from the pack to held it even closer to him.

"Yeah, everything's fine," the young man replied, and he sounded sarcastic. And William finally got one quick eye contact, followed by his counterpart finally taking the tissue and pressing it against his forehead, on the very spot he thought the blood was coming from.

But he didn't get it right. So William moved closer to him, took his hand and pressed it on the actual wound. A suppressed groan as a reaction made William think of him having earned the permission to express his concerns.

"This really doesn't look good. Do you know the guy? We need to call the police. Immediately. He might come back."

A quiet chuckle wasn't exactly the reaction William thought he would get.

"I hope he's coming back, pal," he even got a verbal reply and an even longer look – estimating.

"But you're hurt; you're bleeding. Do you think you can stand a chance against this brute when he comes back?" William almost sounded desperate. And when the other guy looked at him, he started to take him seriously.

"What are you doing in here by the way? Never seen you in the gym," the young man wanted to know.

"I'm here to learn how to wrestle. But..." William answered and wanted to go back to the topic he thought was more important right now.

"So, it's your first day here, right?" the young man asked and made an effort to finally rise to his feet. But still a bit weak on them, William offered him his hand. It turned out that the guy was quite tall, probably the same height as William.

"Yes, my first training day. Was rather looking forward to it," William answered the question.

"You still can, I guess, if your father doesn't want you to quit wrestling to do a respectable job," the lad said actually smiling. But what he said William didn't want to believe.

"You mean, your father did that to you? That was your father? The guy, who..." William almost stumbled upon his own words.

"Calm down, pal. That wasn't my father. But he wants to convince me... through the coaches here," the young man said. But the lack of bitterness in his voice was a foreshadowing of what he said next: "It won't work. Quite the opposite. Every time I get the treatment, I want that even more after. And you should have the same attitude if you'd like to make it in this business."

"So, you're serious about not calling the police?" William wanted to know regardless, just to be sure. He still felt guilty about hiding behind tat curtain.

But the other fellow kept on smiling. He was even laughing now. A bright smile that looked strangely attractive together with the bruises and the two wounds on his face.

"Yeah, like I said, you need to go through this. I'm doing this for over two years now and they still weren't able to keep me down," the boy said and put his hand down on William's shoulder. "The trick is to stand back up one time more than you went down. And it's easy to stand back up if you really love it."

William wasn't sure whether to smile back or just leave the ring because he was useless anyway. So, the smile didn't came and he was about to leave when the other guy seemed to sense his insecurities.

"And don't you worry about hiding behind that curtain. If you'd really tried to help me, big old coach would have thought you're part of the session. So, if that's indeed your first day, you actually did the right thing."

And finally, a smile appeared on William's face. But before it could be awkward again, the young fellow left the ring and seemed to leave the gym. But then he turned back to William who was just collecting his backpack from the ring mat.

"What's your name by the way, son?" emphasizing the 'son' with a smug smile. And it got him William's attention.

"William. And what's yours, dad?" William shot back but now equally smiling.

"Call me Robbie. Last pays the breakfast," he said. And off he went behind the curtain.

Hope you enjoyed reading. If so, just leave me some comment, review, etc. Cheers!