Chapter 9 – Max's turmoil

Author's Note

I know I haven't posted in a while, sorry about that. I've been doing school work and can usually only get in like 10 minutes of writing time in a week. And I'm obviously working on my other WOWP story (click on my account to read) and I'm also trying to write stories for other shows and stuff which will be uploaded over the next fortnight. Please be patient with me and I will dish out the goods I promise.

On with the story…

He'd lost.

OK it had been the first round of one part of the whole competition but Max still smarted from both the blow to his head and the humiliation. He'd been so arrogant! Why did he have to put on that stupid 'brave face' he's seen MMA fighters use. All it did was shatter his chances of hitting a barn wall from inside the barn. If it weren't for gravity he probably wouldn't hit the ground.

He knew that he wasn't smart or particularly athletic. But he had to have something going for him, some confidence boost for him to use in his next duel. Because he would need it against Alex.

Alex was so lucky, Max, thought. She had cause, motivation and drive. He couldn't and probably wouldn't ever work out what it was he was really destined to do. Justin had probably already drawn the flow chart and executed 'Phase 1 of the masterplan' or whatever, and as for his sister it was plain and simple. Magic and relationship or alone and worthless, that was her choice. For him it was magic and worthless or no magic and still worthless. Either way he had no purpose.

He'd had girlfriends. He'd made physical contact with the opposite sex of a sexual nature. But, unlike Justin, who had gotten as far with his girlfriend as a dead fish swimming upstream, he had no one who he wanted to cherish and protect and love. No one who he would rescue from a mummy or walk over hot coals for.

He'd had career goals. Magician was a good one, until he realised his backup plan was to be a conjuror when he conjuring he knew how to do used real magic. As he waited for his next bout to start his mind drifted over the endless possibilities.

That was it, he realised. Possibilities. Not certainties. For God's sake he was 16; it was still 5 years before he was allowed to drink in public places. In the mortal world he'd lived less than a 1/5th of his life. He didn't to plan everything out. He didn't need to fight the current, he needed to let go and just drift off down the river and see where it took him. He's spent so long in his brother's shadow that he had fooled himself into thinking he ought to be like him. Now Max came to the realisation that he had to be his own person and live his life the way he intended. He would go after things, attack them whole-heartedly. If and when he failed, he failed, big deal. Then he would for the river to bring him to the next opportunity.

Now an endless stream of possibilities lined up before him. He could play in a rock band or become a soldier in the army. He could fight crime or run a corporation. He could be one of those awesome lawyer guys he saw on TV in their smooth suits. He could run a sandwich shop, he could do anything.

Freed from the shackles of low prospects he let out a roar of triumph as he charged into the next battle. Whatever happened in his duel with Alex, whatever in the subsequent rounds and the whole competition, Max knew that with his enormous amount of choices deciding a life path wouldn't be easy. But God dammit he would try.