5

The building wasn't grand, but the parking lot was filled completely. I walked inside and handed a man in a black suit my ticket. He gave me a look over with tired eyes before handing me another small piece of paper.

"Row 3 seat 11." he said in a thick tone. I nodded and just floated with numerous others down the brightly lit hall until we were in the arena. There were a few lights in the ceiling and a large ring surrounded by chairs. I found my chair and sat down. I noticed the room was filling up moderately fast. I'd like to think I had a good seat. Not too far, not too close. I remember Adonis would be going to underground fighting rings all over Mexico, slowly building his way to the top. He didn't like me being there during those fights. They were sketchy, and he constantly felt he had to watch me to make sure no one bothered me. I understood.

I noticed some guys a few rows back near the aisles watching me with intent like eyes. Maybe they were wondering what I was doing here in the sea of white faces. Did I really stand out that much? The quiet room is filling with chatter and excitement and I saw someone now moving toward the ring. A man who stood at about six-feet and had a small crew of guys following him. He must have been the fighter and the rest, his training crew. The crowd clapped and out of respect I clapped too. Two old guys were on either side of me, so I felt mildly safe that I wouldn't be bothered. Once the guy was in the ring it was maybe fifteen seconds until Viktor began to walk down the aisle with only one man behind him.

He was old with sad, pale blue eyes. His graying hair swept over his face. He's in a red jumpsuit. Only one trainer? That was noticeable. Adonis came out alone during his fights. He had no one to train him before Uncle Rocky came into his life.

Viktor was massive, veiled in a silver robe that was rimmed with black lining. His gloves, black and dangerous. The crowd cheered a bit heavier for him and I just curled my fingers and watched intently. My stomach was tightening a bit with nervousness. I didn't have the stomach for fighting, let alone watching it. But I swallowed my weakness when Adonis asked me to come to more of his fights once he grew popular and word got out that Apollo Creed's twin children have come out of the woodwork. It amazed people seeing us together, Apollo's spitting images.

My thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the bell. By now Viktor and the other nameless fighter were bare and approaching each other with their gloves up. I immediately noticed his body, which I didn't feel bad for noticing. I had felt he had muscle beneath the sleeve of his hoody when I first met him, and now my thoughts were right. He was perfectly sculpted. I bet I would break my hand on his tight stomach. I watched the smaller fighter throw some punches at Viktor's stomach. He didn't even look phased. His once curious eyes were now focused and hard. He wanted to win. He danced around the ring with the other man before suddenly throwing a punch to the face.

That was it for him. After two more punches the man was down on the ground. I noticed Viktor's trainer smirking with toxic pride. He looked like some bad guy right out of a comic book. I can picture him as a mobster, maybe soldier who came back from war and wanted to take over his entire community.

The match didn't last long, which I suspected the second Viktor came out. He seemed to have way more power than the other guy. He merely stalked the guy from his corner pacing around like a predator waiting for him to get up.

"5…6…7…8…9…10!" the referee finished and now everyone was cheering again. He had won. But he did not throw his gloves to the air or gloat. He looked almost disappointed that his opponent didn't get up. He started to eye the ring looking directly in my direction. Maybe he knew where I would be sitting since he did buy the ticket. I lifted my head up thinking he would see me and after a few seconds, he did. Our eyes locked and I could see that shy look in his eyes again. He seemed surprised like he didn't expect for me to be here maybe. He gave a slight nod, before his trainer regained his attention. He patted his back and whispered something to him. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to wait for him or not. No one seemed to be getting up and the two fighters began to disperse from the ring. I watched Viktor leave down the aisle. After forty minutes, two new fighters were beginning to walk down the aisle. The cheering grew once more, so I took that as my cue to leave. I guess it wasn't meant to happen. I left out into the hallway and made my way back to the front doors.

My keys were in my hand already ready as I moved out into the cold. As I was looking around for my car, I noticed a figure approaching me swiftly. I gasped and jumped back giving a small yelp. The figure pulled the hood off their head, and I saw it was Viktor. His skin face was mildly red as if scolded by hot water.

"Jesus what the hell!" I snapped angrily, and he raised his hands, eyes immediately showing guilt.

"Sorry. Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." he said. His voice sounded stressed, and I looked him over before clutching my chestly. I could smell water and soap on his body. He must have showered right after his match.

"What's wrong with you? You won your fight, and you look all mopey." I said. He shook his head and looked away. I knew that face though. He didn't just get into a fight. He got into an argument as well with someone.

"My dad… we got into it." he said in a low, annoyed tone.

"The guy who's in your corner?" I asked, and he nodded.

"Da." he replied, and I tilted my head.

"What about?" I asked. He motioned his wide forehead toward me.

"I told him I wanted to hang out with you and he yelled." he replied, and I scoffed gently.

"You're a grown man. You can do what you want." I replied, and he nodded.

"I know he thinks you're a distraction. If I stay out late, I won't be able to train tomorrow." he said. Yes. The man who was running every day for hours on end.

"There's nothing wrong with taking a break." I replied. He gave a humorous scoff.

"Break, what even is word?" he asked trying to be funny which it worked. I smiled lightly and looked around the parking lot.

"You come here with him?" I asked. He nodded and sighed.

"Da. He says I can find my own way home." he said. Boy he sounds like a douche. But hell, he looked like one too. The Russian villain. I nodded slowly noticing the wind was cold against my face causing me to tense up. Our conversation seemed to be dying and so I decided to make it weirder.

"Want to come back to my place. I can show you some of my work or something. Unless you want to actually go somewhere." I offered. He visibly leaned back some looking surprised once more, but he just nodded. I smiled and motioned for him to follow me to my car. I drove a 2017 Nissan Altima.

"Nice car." he motioned as we got in and I shrugged.

"Thanks." I replied and pushed the Start button beside the wheel. I took off from the parking lot, the warmth of the car made me feel better. Now it was saturated with both our body scent.

"I have never been in a car so nice. You rich or something?" he asked. I bit the inside of my cheek as I focused on the road.

"My father was a very popular and successful boxer. I didn't know him though. My twin and I were adopted by his sister after he and his wife passed. They left her all their money and possessions. She raised us. I went on to paint and become a successful photographer traveling the world making art in the places my father had boxed." I explained. "Long story short I got lucky and continued to find and earn my own success." I didn't want to bring up Adonis. I didn't want him taking over the conversation. Viktor looked impressed and nodded.

"That's amazing." he said. I shrugged.

"I'm thankful for what I have, and the opportunities given to me." I replied before glancing at him. "What about you? You have always wanted to fight?"

I got no reply and as I drove under street lamps, I glanced at Viktor to see him looking out in the distance with bitterness.

"Not always. I mean I showed potential as a child and my father has trained me ever since. That's how my life is. Wake up, run, train, sleep." he said, his voice low and heavy. I bit the side of my lip with uncertainty.

"And your mother?" I asked, and he shrugged.

"Never knew her really. She left my father and left me with him." he said. I nodded slowly. He didn't seem to have much in his life or at least he wasn't given the space to think for himself and grow. It made me wonder about his parents and who they were, but I didn't feel it was my place to ask.

"How did you and twin end up in foster home?" he asked. I thought back to my mother. Fair skin, somewhat oily, but still beautiful under the sun. Her long hair was honey brown and she had dark, mysterious eyes.

"She died." I replied flatly and inhaled some. "My brother and I were put into foster care when we were young. Then my aunt found us and took us in."

Viktor seemed very focused on my face. It made my body warm to have such attention and I liked it. Everyone wants to feel either wanted or needed. I liked being wanted. I pulled up into the parking lot of my complex and we both got out. Viktor scanned the building from top to bottom as he got out.

"I've run by this place every day for months. How long have you been here?" he asked. I shrugged walking around the front of my car.

"A month or so. My father never fought here, but a friend of his did. I have a project I am working on and will be here for a few months." I replied. And my brother is coming to fight someone here as well and I have decided, that even though we aren't talking, to support him and see his match. But I didn't want him to know that I came from a boxing family. I wanted people to know me and whatever legacy I had decided for myself.

"Do you have any work out in museums?" he asked following me inside the complex. We were now walking through the atrium. The young woman behind the checkout desk, eyed Viktor immediately.

"Yes." I replied stepping through the door and walking up the stairs.

"Are they good?" he asked. I glanced back at him to see the curiosity filled in his eyes. He looked as if he knew nothing except fighting, except knocking people out. It's like he's programmed or something. Once his dad hits the button he cuts on and fights, but when he's done, he's in some kind of standby mode. How much did he know about people and women and social cues and norms? I shrugged.

"I'll let you be the judge of that." I replied coolly and guided him to the second floor. I wondered how far he was when we first met, when he followed me back here. I never even knew he had. Maybe that was a bad thing if I wasn't alert to him. We made it to the top of the second floor and I led him down the hall.

Viktor's POV

She'd probably think of me as some pervert or stalker if she knew I had followed her once before. Not to try and hurt her, but to talk to her and stare at her beautiful face some more. When I was running, I would see her sitting on her balcony in leggings and sweaters on the phone. Her hair was normally pinned up and or down and pulled back a bit. I tried ignoring her before, but once I saw her stressed out on her balcony. I was immediately concerned and slowed my running just a bit to stare at her. My dad nearly ran me over. I was sure he would have done it had I not looked back in time to see him still driving at the same speed from when I started. He always followed me, like my shadow.

I was happy to be able to lose him enough in the rain. So I had time to sit and think and just be in my head for a minute blocking out all the other noise around me. The rain was cool on my head and I could finally figure out what I was doing with my life. The water was nice and something I actually liked, and I didn't like much in my life. But as the rain stopped above my head, I was almost annoyed. My dad was here probably to scold me for stopping. But once I looked up and saw her there, I felt my tiny one-person bubble expand and immediately suck her into my world. And now here we both are, together in the night. I already told myself that whatever she wanted I would give her. I could already tell she didn't care about titles or riches.

She didn't discuss her brother. Maybe he was popular and, in the media, but she wanted to be her own person. I'm so infatuated by her, I knew I would do whatever she wanted me to. Finally, here we are at her apartment.

She unlocks her door and invites me into her world.