Nancy Chastain's Blog - Posts Tagged "mma"
Beast
Waiting on my opponent to enter the ring, I bounce and punch to keep my muscles limber. This fight is the next step to becoming a champion, years of hard work validated by the big promotors with a win. This will launch my career to another level.
My opponent’s music starts, and I look in the direction he’s entering the ring. I catch a glimpse of a woman standing with her back to me, her dress sliding up her thigh as she bends to retrieve her bag from the floor, bright red ink peaks from under the hem of her form-fitting, yellow dress as it clings to her seductive curves, teasing me with a flash of what looks like a rose tattoo.
There is something familiar about her, if only she would turn around so I could see her face. I drag my attention away from the woman to concentrate on the task at hand: winning this fight.
“You have three five-minute rounds in this match, keep it clean. Touch gloves and come out swinging.” The referee tells us when he calls his fighters to the center of the ring.
The bell dings, and it’s time to go to work. The first-round ends with me connecting with a right, left, and an upper cut. My opponent falls to the mat, his head bouncing as it hits the floor. The referee begins to count him out. The crowd roars to life as I’m announced the Superlight Weight Champion.
I scan the crowd, trying to catch a look at the red head in the yellow dress. I push away from the reporters and make my way to the side of the ring. She’s gone; the chair where she had been is empty. I’m scouring the arena to no avail.
She vanished.
Kim Debois, my expensive, pain-in-the-ass publicist wiggles her finger in the air to get my attention. She’s done wonders for my publicity, but she is a force to be reckoned with. She walks up and shoves my pretend super model girlfriend, Amber Davis, into my arms.
Luckily, I see Amber falling in my direction and reach out to catch her in the nick of time. I may not like the girl, but I don’t want her to land flat on her face in front of all these people. I can’t stand the way Amber allows Kim to manipulate her and push her around to do her bidding. As if I could ever be with someone so weak.
My opponent’s music starts, and I look in the direction he’s entering the ring. I catch a glimpse of a woman standing with her back to me, her dress sliding up her thigh as she bends to retrieve her bag from the floor, bright red ink peaks from under the hem of her form-fitting, yellow dress as it clings to her seductive curves, teasing me with a flash of what looks like a rose tattoo.
There is something familiar about her, if only she would turn around so I could see her face. I drag my attention away from the woman to concentrate on the task at hand: winning this fight.
“You have three five-minute rounds in this match, keep it clean. Touch gloves and come out swinging.” The referee tells us when he calls his fighters to the center of the ring.
The bell dings, and it’s time to go to work. The first-round ends with me connecting with a right, left, and an upper cut. My opponent falls to the mat, his head bouncing as it hits the floor. The referee begins to count him out. The crowd roars to life as I’m announced the Superlight Weight Champion.
I scan the crowd, trying to catch a look at the red head in the yellow dress. I push away from the reporters and make my way to the side of the ring. She’s gone; the chair where she had been is empty. I’m scouring the arena to no avail.
She vanished.
Kim Debois, my expensive, pain-in-the-ass publicist wiggles her finger in the air to get my attention. She’s done wonders for my publicity, but she is a force to be reckoned with. She walks up and shoves my pretend super model girlfriend, Amber Davis, into my arms.
Luckily, I see Amber falling in my direction and reach out to catch her in the nick of time. I may not like the girl, but I don’t want her to land flat on her face in front of all these people. I can’t stand the way Amber allows Kim to manipulate her and push her around to do her bidding. As if I could ever be with someone so weak.
