The Prince

There's about twenty people in the hall. Girls and guys on sofas and chairs, some on the floor. All talking and laughing. The hall is teeming with life and Tyson breathes a tiny sigh of relief as he pops open a beer can from the table stacked with food. There's fried chicken in a bucket in one of the takeout bags. He takes a peek and feels his mouth water.

"Anyone mind if I eat a chicken leg?" he asks the room.

"Not if you pay for it first," answers Michael.

"Ha" He reaches into the bucket and chooses an extra crispy one.

"Look at this man," says Eddie, alluding to Tyson. "Four in the evening, he's eating chicken. He has no morals."

"I'm starvin'"

"Buy your own food!"

"Oh for fuck's sake. Do you need me to pay for this leg? I reckon you guys were forced into buying food for the dorm today."

"We were not forced."

"They were bullied," replies Miguel. "By the upperclassmen."

"Do not speak, freshman," Eddie shushes Miguel. Miguel laughs in his face.

Tyson shoots a look in the fourth years' direction. A couple of them are seated a few feet away but they're mostly keeping to themselves so he returns his attention back to his motherfuckers and fishes for his wallet. "I'll pay you."

He approaches Eddie, taking a bite out of his food.

"You are not paying him," says Miguel, in disbelief.

Tyson extracts 50 yen from his wallet and holds it out to Eddie. "Fifty yen for one chicken leg."

"Yabai"

"That's not enough," Eddie huffs.

Michael snickers. "That's all the money he has. Poor soul. Eddie, take it. Bankrupt him."

Eddie takes the fifty from him with all the grace of a drug dealer and pockets it. "Enjoy your food."

Tyson bows.

"Keep it classy, Granger," Miguel comments.

"Will do" He turns around with his chicken leg and spots Rick dipping his elephant trunk of an arm into the bucket and taking out three pieces at once. Eddie notices him when he drops them into a plate and starts hunting for ketchup.

"Rick!"

"Shut the fuck up," Rick grunts. "I'm hungry"

Tyson grabs his beer and finds Kenny sitting in an armchair all by himself next to a very chatty circle of Emily, Mathilda and Mariam. There's an empty seat between them. Tyson claims it.

"Hello"

"Hi!" Emily twists around in her seat to greet him. She's sitting on a coffee table made of glass. It's a good thing she's tiny. Mariam meets Tyson's eyes and gives him a smile that is warm and breezy at once. Mathilda looks him up and down once but doesn't make direct eye contact with him and doesn't smile, twirling a strand of hair around her finger absentmindedly. A Capri Sun in her other hand on her lap.

Kenny lights up when he sees Tyson and gives him a shy smile. A potato chip in his grip. "I'm here for the snacks."

Tyson snorts. "Me too"

"We're helping Mathilda here to be more outgoing," Emily tells Tyson.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"She's a bit shy," Mariam adds.

"See, Tyson here," Emily says to Mathilda, who looks like she wants to stay and flee at the same time. "Is a pro at talking to people and making new friends."

"Hmm, I am." He sits forward. "I should be teaching a course about it on campus. A lot of socially awkward students around."

"She's not suffering from social anxiety or anything clinical like that," Mariam clarifies. "She simply doesn't know how to communicate with other people. She was home schooled and her parents were workaholics so they weren't home much. Her teachers never focused much on developing her soft skills."

"Ah, I get it."

Mathilda tugs at the hem of her skirt to flatten the creases as they talk about her.

"It's hindering her ability to meet new people and make friends and go on dates," Mariam says. "She likes you," she says to Tyson, looking like an idea has suddenly come to her mind.

"Wait what?" Tyson stammers. He throws a look in Emily's direction, who is already moving her lips, trying to say something to intervene, but can't. "Wait, you like me?"

"Yeah, she's liked you for a long time," says Mariam, touching his arm.

Mathilda looks at him from under her lashes.

"But didn't I see you-" Tyson stutters. He's pretty sure he did see a video of Mathilda and Kai next to the water fountain. "I thought you liked Kai?" he says to Mathilda.

She drops her eyes, but still holds her head high. "Everyone likes Kai," she says, her voice soft and delicate. "I had to shoot my shot with him."

Tyson's mouth falls open a little.

Emily beams at him. "See? She's a lion on the inside. A little help from our side and she'll be roaring in no time."

"It's okay if you're not good at making a lot of friends," Kenny speaks from Tyson's left. They all turn to look at him. Mathilda doesn't. She's squeezing her unopened Capri Sun. "As long as you're able to speak up when necessary, it's not a handicap at all."

"Wise words from a very wise introvert," comments Mariam. "But she's not at your level, Kenny. I don't think she has reached there. We need to help her reach your level at least."

"I'd like Emily-san to teach me," Mathilda whispers then. The rest of them look at her. She glances up briefly to stare at Tyson and he swears to god he sees her pupils shake before she glances down again. "Emily-san is better."

"O...kay" says Emily, frowning slightly. "I'll teach you then."

Mariam snorts and looks at Tyson. "You scare her."

"No" Mathilda speaks up. "Emily-san is just better."

"Okay" Tyson replies a little harshly, offended.

Mariam smacks his arm, laughing. Tyson leans back. "Oh hey, Mariam. How's it going?"

"It's going good," she replies, still laughing. "How are things going for you?"

"Great. I heard you were putting on a play."

"Yeah"

"I think what you're doing is noble."

"You do?"

Tyson catches up with Mariam for a bit, and then he spends some time with Kenny, who is working on a new project. He's building the prototype of a rocket that runs on a mixture of cheap and largely available fuels. Kenny tells Tyson he's so immersed in the project lately, he forgets to do basic things like brush his teeth and eat meals on time. Tyson downloads an app on his phone that will remind him to do those things and sets all the alarms.


The T.V is on. Tyson has his feet up on the rickety coffee table. Emily is invested in the movie. It's Kimi No Nawa. He's already seen this movie before. He has no interest in it.

"Did you and Kai fight or something?" Emily asks out of nowhere, her eyes still on the screen. "You said we were going to hangout but you've been quiet and moody since I came in."

Has she forgiven him for betraying Hilary already? She's here anyway, so she must have.

"I'm sorry I'm..." He sits up on the couch. "In my head."

"Did you fight?" Emily prompts, turning to look at him.

He doesn't want to tell her, but he needs someone to talk to and she is the only one he can do that with at the moment. "We had a brief argument," he says.

Emily waits for him to elaborate in silence.

Tyson gulps. They're doing this. "He thinks I'm afraid of having sex with him."

"Why does he think that?"

His go to answer is 'I don't know', but then he sees her eyes. Green and filled with concern behind her glasses. "I finish too fast with him. Like just from kissing sometimes."

"Oh" Emily frowns. "You didn't have that problem when we were dating," she observes. Tyson shakes his head. "I remember our first time and I clearly remember you lasting a while, about ten minutes or so."

"Really? You remember our-? Ah fuck!" Tyson cringes, and folds into himself, resting his head on his lap and hugging his tummy. Emily laughs. The awkwardness somehow helps clear the air. Makes it easier to breathe.

"How were things with Mariah?" she asks a while later. "You were more physical with her than with me."

Tyson shakes his head, still hugging himself. "Never had a problem with her. Not in the bedroom."

"Yeah" Emily agrees with him. "Mariah would have complained otherwise and you would have come running to us. You did well with her."

They both stare at the brown rug on the floor. The stain on it from the orange juice Max spilled on it last year. They never managed to work it out of the material.

"What if you simply like him better than you liked me or Mariah?"

Tyson snorts. "I don't think so."

"May be he's just a really good kisser?" Emily grins.

"He is a good kisser," Tyson answers with a laugh, "But I don't think that's it either."

Emily bites her nails in thought. Watching him watch the dust dance in the sunlight. "May be 'cause you're not in love with him? You have that problem, right?"

"I am in love with him." Tyson stares at his shoes.

"You're in love?" she exclaims in a whisper, surprised. "Oh. God. Wow. Good for you."

She pulls her feet up onto the couch.

They stare at the TV screen for a while. Pretending to watch the movie.

"Do you remember the first time it happened?" Emily asks after, hugging her ankles.

Tyson thinks back to his first month with Kai. He nods. "Back when we first started dating, um, we never went much further than kissing. One night, he asked me to go over to his place - just to sleep - but we ended up making out and..."

"And?"

"And- he, well," he gulps, "He started kissing my neck and...I really liked it and..." As he's telling the story, he recalls something else about that night. A few hours before going over to Kai's place, he had looked up gay sex for the first time.

"You came in your pants?" Emily asks.

"Oh no," Tyson breathes.

"What?" Emily asks again, confused.

"I'm afraid of having sex with him."


"So, why're you afraid of having sex with Kai?"

Emily is sitting sideways on the couch, her feet pulled up and her hand under her chin.

"I don't know," replies Tyson, his head as hot as a pressure cooker and his back as straight as a rod as he sits facing the coffee table. "I guess because it sounds painful."

He remembers the google search results. He did some extensive reading on the subject and his first reaction to those online articles hadn't exactly been thrill or excitement. It was quite the opposite. It was horror.

Motherfucking Kai. Always right. How does he even know these things about Tyson? Who is he? Chris Angel Mindfreak?

"Painful" Emily repeats thoughtfully. "You're talking about penetrative sex in particular. What are your preferences?"

"My preferences?" Tyson turns to look at her.

"Do you want to fuck him or do you want him to fuck you?" she asks with excellent elocution.

Tyson stares at her. Emily opens her palms in helplessness. What else is she supposed to do?

He sighs.

"I don't want to fuck him," he says in a rush and buries his face in his hands.

Emily nods understandingly. "You don't want him to fuck you either, right?" she tries to clarify. "Because it sounds painful to you?"

Tyson wishes he could crawl into a hole and die. Shame lances through him like a hot flame. He's not someone who talks about stuff like this with his friends often. He does it rarely. Extremely rarely. This is the first time in years he's sharing something intimate with Emily, who ironically is the person he's shared all of his firsts with. They've grown a lot since high school, but the bond is still there. Emily knew Tyson before she knew Hilary. And though she shouted at him in the cafe earlier, he knew there was no real malice behind her words or actions. And he loves her for the fact that she's putting the events of this morning aside to help him with his problems. So he nods after entire minutes.

Emily takes an audible breath. "A lot of people do it, Tyson, and it's not painful. Not if you spend enough time prepping beforehand."

"I don't want to do all that," Tyson tries to explain, cheeks red. "I don't want to prep."

"Why not?" asks Emily.

And he doesn't give her an answer. He has no answer for her.

"What problem do you have with it?" she tries again.

Tyson closes his eyes. "It just feels like it's so much easier to have sex with a girl."

Emily folds her arms, leaning back and thinking. "Is your hatred for prep more than your desire for Kai? I mean, isn't that what it comes down to? If you want to have sex with him more than how much you hate the work you have to do to be able to do that..."

That's not what this is about. It's not about whether Kai is good or not. He knows Kai is good. God, the entire campus knows it. May be the whole world too. His dick is the male version of Helen of Troy.

"That's not what I'm worried about," says Tyson, interrupting Emily.

"What are you worried about?"

"I don't want to be that person."

"What person?"

He doesn't know how to explain it. "One look at me and Kai and people will know that I'm the one who takes it up the ass."

Emily just freezes. She just stops functioning and Tyson wonders if he finally managed to fry her brilliant brain. Then she starts talking. "People are stupid. Okay? I mean, why will they think that? If they think that, they know nothing about gay couples and their opinion doesn't matter."

"That's easy to say. I say that to other people too. But some things are easier said than done." He feels tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

Emily looks at him empathetically. "I know" She squeezes his hand to comfort him. "I know it's hard. Are you planning on coming out?" she asks in a gentler tone.

"No" breathes Tyson.

"No? Okay, then don't worry about it. You're not coming out, so why worry about something you're not going to do right now? Think about it that way."

Tyson nods. And nods. "But what will my brother think?" he asks in a tiny voice. He's on a roll now.

"Your brother?" Emily hisses. "Hiro has nothing to do with your love life, Tyson. Your love life, your sex life, that is yours and it is private and he has no business meddling in that. It is no business of his. You understand? What you choose to do behind closed doors with your lover is no one's business except the two of yours. Okay? You shouldn't be defining yourself based on other people's opinions, and certainly not on Hiro's opinion of you. That is not who you are. Please, don't listen to those shitty people. You are a very, very strong man."

"Thank you" he says, smiling at her. "I needed that. But don't call my brother shitty."

"And If you don't want to have sex with Kai, you don't have to, but before you make that kind of a decision, I think you owe yourself and Kai at least one opportunity to share a beautiful experience like that with each other-"

Tyson almost gasps. Oh my god. A beautiful experience. Amidst all that cacophony about cleanliness and reputation in his head, he forgot what sex is really supposed to be about. Him and Kai.

"-Just give it a fucking try," Emily drones on. "I swear to god, you're going to love that dick."

"Oh my god, Emily," he says. "You're a fucking genius."

"I know" She grins toothlessly. Way too smug.

06:45 to Kai: Hey, can we talk?

Emily huffs. "I love that I just gave you a free hour of therapy and you are thanking me by forgetting about me immediately."

He puts his phone away. "No" He pulls her into a hug. "Thank you. I love you for always being there for me. I don't know what I would do without you."

"Die, of course," Emily says into his shoulder, suffocating in his embrace. "You will die without me. Well, you'll still have Hilary. Let go, you're squeezing my airways."

"Sorry" He pulls away. "What shall I do for you today? What services shall I pay you with?"

"A foot massage" She props her feet up.

"As if"

"Buy me dinner, asshole."

"It's a date."

"Don't let your pretty boyfriend hear that."

06:47 Kai: Can't tonight. Busy.

06:47 to Kai: Tomorrow?

06:49 Kai: Sure


"Where are you going?"

Tyson stops in the process of zipping up his hoodie. "Out. I'm going out with Brooklyn."

"Brooklyn?" Max sits up fully. His hair sticks up like Einstein's. "You mean, the guy who lives right across...?" he points in the direction of his room.

"Yes"

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'?"

"Why would you go out with Brooklyn in the middle of the night?" asks Max. "He'd probably drug you or try to get you into whatever he's on right now."

"I owe him a favor. He said this is how I could pay him back." Tyson pauses. "Wait, you think Brooklyn's a druggie?"

"Of course he is," says Max. "Haven't you seen his eyes? He's zoned out like all the time."

"Oh my god. But everyone says he's not."

"Why else would he be like that?"

"Birth defect?"

"The majority isn't always right, Tyson." Max goes back to bed leaving Tyson bewildered in the dark.

"Pray for me," he says in a moment of weakness.

"I will"

Goddamn. It's almost midnight. He needs to get out of here. He's near the door when Max suddenly sits up and asks, "Hey, Tyson, do you need me to come with you?"

"What? No! I have my guns," he says, pointing to his biceps. "Chill. I'll be back in..." He doesn't know when he will be back. But he thinks it won't be long. "Fifteen or so," he says and dips out.

"All my prayers!" Max calls after him when he shuts the door.


"Hey, Brook."

"What?"

"Where are we going?"

"The old faculty housing building," answers Brooklyn as they stride across campus in the late autumn fog. Hands jammed deep into their hoodie pockets to protect themselves from the chill. "The dropouts hangout?"

"Where?" Tyson asks puzzled.

"You don't know?" Brooklyn looks at him disgustedly. "What are you?"

"Are you seriously patronizing me right now?"

"You're missing out on the cool campus life."

May be Max was right about the whole stoner thing. Tyson's starting to suspect it too. And if that's the case, is he being roped into the life of a meth addict by shady drug abusers who run circuits in their campus?

That would be sad. If his family lost him to drugs. He's the last person they'll expect to do drugs.

"Are you a druggie?" Tyson asks Brooklyn when they stop outside the dark and looming former faculty housing.

Brooklyn looks at him. His expression is inscrutable.

"Are we going to meet your dealers?" inquires Tyson, cluelessly.

"No" Brooklyn shakes his head. "I do Molly sometimes but I don't like to mess with my head too much. I like thinking."

"That's cool. I like thinking too." He barks a laugh.

Brooklyn's gaze travels over Tyson's face. "Why do you look so relieved?"

Tyson doesn't have an answer to that. He opts for silence.

Brooklyn opens the main door before them and they enter a narrow corridor lit by the light coming from the right side of the hallway where the living room and kitchen is. At the end of the hallway is darkness and Tyson goes quiet as Brooklyn shuts the door behind them and the silence of the building settles upon them.

The place is dusty and mothy and smells dank and desolate.

The wooden floor creaks under their footsteps as they cross the living room. There's a staircase to his left and a dinner table to his right. With six chairs and a moth-eaten tablecloth. The kitchen lies beyond it.

On the other side of the living room, where they are heading to, there's a door that leads outside and a staircase that leads downwards.

Tyson and Brooklyn stand at the top of the steps and try to gauge how far the steps go in the darkness. "Okay, this is the creepiest fucking building I have ever stepped foot in," declares Tyson. "Where does this lead?"

"To the basement," replies Brooklyn.

"Have you been here before?"

"A couple times"

Not shady at all. "Come with me," Brooklyn calls as he starts descending.

"Oh yeah, I'm coming with you." Tyson switches on the flashlight on his phone and they begin climbing down. He talks along the way. Or makes comments.

"Wow, this staircase goes on forever."

"When will this end?"

"Is this fucking building haunted?"

"Oh my god, we are in pitch black dark-"

"Stop screaming," says a deep voice, and the light comes on.

"Gao?" Tyson exclaims when his eyes adjust and he can see again. They are at the bottom of the steps and there is Gao before them. Standing guard next to a glass door that says Alpha Male Fitness Club. "What are you doing here?"

Gao ignores his question, staring at Brooklyn. "Did you bring your pass?" he asks.

"Yes" Brooklyn holds out his phone. A QR code on the screen. Gao scans it with his phone and gives him a nod.

"Wait, that's a gym. The basement holds a gym?" he asks Gao, then remembers something. "Wait, I remember this place. I've heard about it before."

Gao opens the door and Brooklyn pulls on Tyson's sleeve. "Come on"

They enter what looks like a locker room. An old locker room. Tyson extracts his hoodie sleeve from Brooklyn's nimble fingers and is about to make more observational comments when the door at the end of the locker room is nudged open by Brooklyn and out pours chaos.

And mayhem.

There are bodies pressed together that they have to squeeze through. There's money being thrown over their heads by stinky balding men and Tyson catches sight of a few youthful faces as well.

He recognizes some from his university.

He holds onto Brooklyn's wrist which is sturdier than it looks as Brooklyn navigates them through the bodies and finds them seats away from the men at the back who are standing and screaming for no reason. He hears names being shouted, "Kon!", "Petra!", "Leon!", "Amber!", "Farah!"

In the middle of the room - just a few paces away - there is a ring. The basement is giant, cavernous and circular. It feels like the inside of a cheap, run-down lecture hall. There are seating arrangements and balconies to view the action on the ring, but the place is swarming with people. Swarming.

And the heat is unbearable.

Tyson starts sweating right away. He always perspired way too quickly.

"Petra! Petra! Petra!" he hears the chant, and notices a digital board hung from the ceiling. And it clicks in his head. Underground boxing. Betting. The numbers on the board are odds.

"We're here to watch a boxing match?" Tyson asks Brooklyn. He has to lean close and shout to be heard. Brooklyn smells like flowers.

The guy's eyes sparkle at him in response. Brooklyn nods. "The biggest underground boxing tournament in the whole city! May be country! It is amazing to watch."

"Oh" Tyson deflates. "I'm not really a fan of the sport."

"That's okay," replies Brooklyn, a mysterious smirk on his face. "You don't need to be interested in the sport. There are other things here that will entertain you plenty."

Tyson frowns. "Like what?"

"Ladies and gentlemen," booms a man's voice, taking Tyson's attention away. "Please welcome to the Ring former national Kung Fu champion and returning veteran, Rei Kon!"

Tyson's eyes bug out when he hears his friend's name being announced. "Rei?"

The MC is inside the ring already. Tyson watches with bated breath as a competitor steps into the ring with him and takes off his oversized jacket and hoodie.

His mouth falls open when he sees Rei's long black mane come into view. And when he turns to address the audience on Tyson's side, his face.


It's not boxing. Brooklyn lied or may be he didn't know the rules.

Rei's opponent is Petra, who is a man with a shaved head that looks like a well-oiled egg.

They lock fingers and grapple in the arena. At one point Petra aims a kick to Rei's stomach and Tyson inhales sharply, cringing himself. He recovers quickly however and the fight lasts only a short amount of time. Rei wins and his smile is emphatic.

Rei's mentioned about a mixed martial arts club that he goes to. And the tournament there that he participates. He didn't know it was this club. He didn't know it was this tournament.

How is this tournament such a well kept secret? Why don't more people know about this place?

God, the place is loud. Are the walls soundproof or something? Why does only a handful of people know and why do they never tell anyone?

How come MingMing doesn't know about this already?

Why is Tyson only finding about this now?

He feels dumb. But he can only imagine how dumb Dean Valkova would feel if she came to find out about this gym.

Alpha Male Fitness Club. Fucking ass.

That's when Tyson spots Tala Valkov in the front row of the audience. He's sitting directly opposite Tyson, save for the ring between them and the acres of space. The ring and the protective net around it is obstructing his view, but that's Tala. Definitely. He's talking to someone else a few chairs down. He looks like he's gossiping. Smile all gleeful and conspiratorial.

Fucking Blitzkriegs know about this place. Fucking Kai.

Wait, Kai?


Tyson's nauseous. The gym is thrumming. Thriving. Turning over.

And he just spotted Sergei. Near the door at the back. Fuck his life.

Brooklyn's found popcorn. He doesn't know from where. He doesn't want to ask.

"Ladies and gentlemen..."

Oh great. Another match is starting. He looks at the board keeping score and sees the name Bull.

Bull

That one's new. Somebody just entered the competition.

"Tyson, what's wrong?" asks Brooklyn, breathing popcorn in his face.

"I feel ill," he mutters.

"What? I can't hear you."

"I feel-" He sighs. "Forget it."

Brooklyn's having the time of his life. Tyson feels betrayed. He wants to talk to Rei. He wants to talk to Kai.

"Please welcome to the ring..." Tyson's ears ring with how loud the announcement is. Oh wait, no. That's because a set of speakers are right next to his seat. Fuck his life. Seriously. "Newly minted heavyweight wrestler from China! B-U-L-L, Bulllllllllll!"

Do they have to say it that way? Tyson senses a smirk come onto his face as he scoffs condescendingly. This is so fucking corny.

The competitor enters through the right side of the ring, making his way in through the ropes. When he stands up tall, the entire place holds their breath and Tyson feels his balls shrivel up and disappear.

Standing at 6'5 and weighing about a couple tons, Bull takes off his glinting neon hoodie and bears his shaved head and back muscles. Because he has no neck. His neck got swallowed by his trapezius muscles.

He has wings sprouting from his shoulders instead.

At the back of this mammoth's skull is a giant roaring eagle tattoo that snarls at Tyson. He pulls his sleeves over his hands and folds his arms over his chest to protect himself.

The man is towering. Tyson's surprised his head isn't grazing the ceiling of the basement. He looks like a demon that rose from hell.

It's only when Tyson looks away from the beast and sees a flash of Tala's ghostly pale face on the other side of the ring that he realizes that something is wrong. Something is very very wrong.

The air - which was already minimal - is getting sucked out of the room the more the man stands in the ring and breathes.

His torso is oiled. His calf muscles look scary under his shorts. His fists look like they could punch through metal.

The announcer has gone silent.

Tyson wonders where Tala is. He's disappeared. He catches Sergei running somewhere, seemingly in a hurry.

Brooklyn thumps on his chest. Repeatedly. He's choking.

"Oh my god, are you okay? Cough! Cough!" Tyson helps him breathe again.

Brooklyn sighs when he's alright. "Who is that guy?" he asks Tyson as if he would know. "I've never seen him before."

"I've no idea either. Don't new competitors sign up often?"

"Yes, they do, but they don't let these kind of guys in without prior vetting," explains Brooklyn. "It's a headache for the bookkeepers."

"I'm sorry," says Tyson. "I don't follow."

"Matches with competitors like Bull are usually set up with much fanfare so punters can choose their opponent and place their bets accordingly. They can't show up out of the blue like this. The audience hasn't seen this guy before which makes him sus. Very sus. He probably snuck in through shady ways."

A hush suddenly falls over the room. Tyson looks up and sees its because the man moved. He's got a microphone now. The announcer's. "Where's my opponent?" he demands the audience and Tyson fears for his life. His voice is deep and rough but wailing. Like a hag's. A male hag.

People look at him in fear.

The mic is tiny in his paws. He looks like he's pinching it between his fingers. "I was promised I would get to spar with one Kai Hiwatari, the prince of the arena." Tyson's soul leaves his body. "Where is this prince?"

This can't be happening.

"Has he run away?"

This can't be happening.

"Afraid of some competition?" asks Bull. "The king of the arena is here, dear Prince. Show yourself if you have balls. Or I will find some other way to get my money's worth."

Tyson clenches his teeth. He's shaking. Whether from fear or adrenaline, he doesn't know.

"I was promised a fight!" Bull shouts and the mic screeches. Tyson puts his hands over his ears and closes his eyes. It's a nightmare. It's a nightmare. It's a nightmare. "Tala Valkov, I was promised a fight. Where is my opponent?"

"He's right here." Tyson's eyes fly open when he hears Kai's cool voice.


Tala's white as chalk as he sends Kai up, and it's scaring Tyson shitless.

He notices that Kai's wearing the shoes that Tyson bought for him in Dubai. He'd said, "You're spending all this money on me, I want to spend some on you too." And he'd gone and bought that pair for Kai from Dubai Duty Free on their way back.

Tyson wants to scream.

Why is he wearing those shoes? Why now?

"I bought him those shoes," Tyson tells Brooklyn, who looks at him curiously. "He's wearing my shoes."

Brooklyn nods, not really getting the logic, till Tyson stands up wondering, "How do I stop this?"

"Do not interfere," Brooklyn pulls on Tyson's arm to make him sit down. "Kai's a veteran. He knows how to handle big opponents. Don't worry. You can't interfere. You're a spectator."

Tyson's butt hits the chair. "Don't fight," he whispers helplessly, looking at Kai's shadowed face. "Don't fight."

Tala looks Bull dead in the eyes from where he's standing beside the ring and says, "Here's your opponent, you dumb fuck. I hope you get pummeled to death." Then he exchanges a wordless glance with Kai, who is in the ring now and backs off.

He's 6'2, and weighs around 200 pounds. Tyson puts his face in his hands and peeks through his fingers when Kai peels back his hoodie and strips it off.

He gasps when he sees the huge phoenix tattoo adorning his back. It must be new. Tyson has never seen that tattoo before. The phoenix's wings span his shoulders, its torso curves down his spine and its eye blazes with the same fire that Kai's burn with.

Familiar motifs run down his right arm and for a moment - for a moment - Tyson's calm.

Then his hoodie drops to the floor and its plucked away by Tala and the MC announces the match and it begins.

Tyson's not expecting it. He's terrified. He's hoping the world would end before that man touches a hair on Kai's body, but he seems to have worried about the wrong thing.

Because it doesn't take him long to figure out how this match would end.

It doesn't take long to figure out that there were secrets that his lover kept from him. And why he kept them.

Why he never told him - not once - even alluded to their existence.

Went far and wide. He did everything in his power to not let Tyson see those parts of himself.

Because the horror that he is witnessing right now. There is no justification for it. There is no way he could have explained it to Tyson.

He's a monster. Bull is on the floor. He was on the side of the ring before. He was on the ropes. His neck was being throttled. And Tyson had worried at one point that it would simply snap. Like a twig. But he's on the floor now.

And his face...

His face is ruined.

Totaled. That's not a word you use to describe a man's face. But it's as though a car has hit him. Run him right across.

He is bleeding. His blood is flying. Droplets of it. In the air. There's a lot of it on his lover's hand. His fist. It's balled. He balled it a while ago and Tyson has known nothing but fear since.

The hits keep coming. They don't stop. Nobody's stopping him. It's MMA. There is no winner till one is knocked out.

"Stop it" Tyson begs. "Stop it"

His fist is hitting nothing but mush now.

"Stop it!" he screams and it's ripped out from somewhere within him.

The ring is rushed. Arms slither around Kai's and pull him away. They lift him off. His face is bloody. His shoes are bloody. His chest is bloody.

Like he went for a swim in it.

Tyson's on his feet. He is in tears.

The MC raises Kai's arm in the air. He is on his feet and his head is hanging. He's collecting his bearings.

Tyson sobs and as if Kai hears it, he looks up. And their eyes meet.


A/N: Girls and pals, it's a long chapter. I hope you liked it. Leave your thoughts in the comments. I always appreciate feedback. Thank you for reading. I hope it was a fun experience.