FIGHT Part 1 by M Dauphin

been training here my entire fighting career, but it’s been long enough that I know everyone that works here, and they know me by name. It probably helps that by having me here has helped up their membership numbers in the last few months, but that’s okay with me. I don’t mind a full gym.
    Stashing my things in a locker, I start to wrap my hands as Mac comes through the doors.
    “You need to get your head on straight, girl. Your opponent tonight is three pounds lighter than you and it’s only her seventh fight in this level. Had you been here when you should have you would have been able to get properly warmed up.” He shakes his head at me as he help finish wrapping my hands. I can’t help my thoughts traveling back to my bedroom earlier that day with Eddie, though. There are multiple occasions before my fight that Mac actually has to bring me out of my daydream.
    Sometimes inexperience in fighting is good, other times it’s bad. This girl seems gung-ho on making my life a living hell, though. Constantly moving, hopping all over the damn place, she won’t stop. I only let a few jabs get through, one to my side, the other got me in the shoulder. No biggie. I’ve had plenty worse. She’s bound to wear herself out by the end of the second round at this rate, then I can go all out on her.
    The bell rang to signal the end of another round and we head back to our corners. Mac is yelling at me to attack, but he’s always wanting me to be on the offense. He hates it when I go on defense and start playing just to stay standing. He would rather me be pushing in for the kill every moment. It doesn’t work that way, though. Especially not tonight. I’m super distracted the entire fight so far, but now that she’s getting wore down I sharpen my focus on one thing; bringing the bitch down.
    Once the short break is up we get back at it. She tries a few kicks, aiming high, but she’s so tired I can see them coming from a mile away. Once I see them coming, I wait for my time to strike. Lifting her leg, she goes in for another kick (which is stupid on her part) and I grab her leg and flip her to the ground. Mac is cheering on, she is grunting and cursing at me, and I’m panting. So many noises are going on all around me, but I zone them out until I keep her down long enough for the ref to call it.
    I win to match after three excruciatingly long rounds. Mac is clapping and smiling, the onlookers are cheering. I should be happy about my win, but I’m not. Truth is, this really isn’t doing it for me anymore. The ref raises my arm and announces me the winner. I get slaps on the back and rear from people as I walked back to the locker rooms. All the while I’m wondering what Eddie is doing.
    “What the hell, Gwynn. You’re supposed to be “GWYNNIE THE FUCKING GREAT!” Mac yells once the door is shut.
    “I won Mac. Just be happy for that.” I shrug out of the robe he draped over me in the ring, and start unwrapping my hands. I’m fucking tired of all this, but I can’t tell Mac that.
    “Whatever the hell is wrong with you, girl, snap out of it. You have at LEAST four more fights under my contract. If you want to fuck up your career after that, fine by me. But right now you are mine, and you aren’t going anywhere. If I have to throw you in the ring with someone twice your size just to make you fight back I will.” He sneers at me.
    Great, now the threats were starting. I’ve heard of trainers and managers getting mean when a fighter loses, but not when one wins. I’ve never seen this side of Mac, but I heard he can get this way. He needs get off his high horse.
    “Fuck off Mac,” I tell him, and walk out of the room. I won, that’s all he should care about. Who cares if it took me two rounds longer than usual, I still fucking won.
    Walking out of the gym into the dark night, the streets are bouncing with college students. I’m about five blocks away from my apartment, which means I am also about five blocks