Chapter one
Sounds of random clanking of metal against other metal and concrete. Sounds of conversing people. Sounds of random thumping, like a hammer to a wrestling mat. Sounds. Many different sounds. Many sounds fade off as time goes on, but the thumping continues. As everything fades away, the thumping turns into rhythmic, melodic thumping. That sound, was a heartbeat. The random thumping was a young man of about 25 punching a punching bag. The people had stopped conversing to watch him continuously punch the bag. The clanking was bars, and metal plate weights. All of these different things, they were the sounds of a gym. The 25 year old young man had stopped punching the bag, as his heart was racing, sweat dripping down his face and off of the tips of his short black hair. A fingerless gloved hand reached up to the sleeve of the black T-shirt which was hugging his body, more so because of it being soaked with sweat. The sleeve had been pulled up to his forehead, as the sleeve was relatively dry. It was slowly dragged across his forehead, as the other gloved hand was down on leg, gripping the bottom of his loose, black gym shorts. His well-tanned skin was now a shade of red. His green eyes, with brown around the pupil, were staring down at the generating puddle of human sweat at his feet. A chair was brought for him as he was guided down and into the chair, as he felt the cold metal hit his backside. His head tilted back as he was still breathing opened back up and his head back to its normal position. He eyed what was in his hand. A bottle of Ice cold water.
His left hand reached over and pulled the tip of the sports cap, as he tilted his head back again and brought the bottle close to his mouth, as it was open wide. His right hand squeezed the bottle with enough pressure that some of the water had splashed onto his face, as most of it poured into his mouth. He took about three gulps of what in his eyes at the moment was liquid gold. He sets the bottle back on his knee, still holding it. He looked up at the crowd, scanning through it, as everyone was silent. He saw that some of the girls there started whispering to each other, with their eyes still on him. Most likely talking about how hot he was. Some of the guys were just staring, wondering how he did it. His breathing started to slow down as he tilted his head back again and squeezed more water into his mouth. His head went back to looking at the other people once again, as one simple word escaped his lips, in a calm, deep voice. "What?" Some people started talking. "That was incredible!" "I wish I could do that!" "Could you teach me that fighting style?" "Sign my boob!" He raised an eyebrow at that last one, as he knew it was just a joke. He spoke again. "People, people, please!" He had raised his left hand to stop the crowd from talking. "I know it was incredible, you can do it if you have the willpower, the fighting style is just plain old boxing, and I'd be happy to sign your boob! If only I had a marker." Almost the whole crowd had laughed, as a small smile had appeared across his lips. He tilted his head back once again to squeeze more water into his mouth