Chapter 2

3 years before TNCF

I dodged as Casey's foot hurled itself towards me, missing me by a bare inch.

I crouched and swiped her legs under her, causing her to fall onto her back on the mattress.

She rolled backwards to put some space between us and I used that to catch my breath as sweat trickled down my forehead.

We eyed each other up before Casey charged once again, aiming for my midriff.

I sidestepped her and grabbed her attacking arm, twisting it and holding her in a triangle lock.

With her other hand, she quickly tapped my arm three times and I immediately let go of my grip.

"Can we be done for the day already?" Casey asked.

I tsked at her, "Giving up already?"

Casey looked at me with tired and begging eyes, "We've been at it for 2 hours already. Aren't you tired?"

I nodded, agreeing. "I am tired," I paused, "Tired of waiting for you to get back up."

"When are you going to ever land a blow on me?" I teased her.

Casey stuck her tongue out at me, "Oh please, I just don't want to hurt your pretty face and get on your girlfriend's bad side."

I looked at her challengingly, "Oh is that so?"

"Yeah, of course. I've just been going easy on you." Casey said in a mock nonchalant tone.

"Right, right." I played along, walking to where our water bottles are and tossed her hers.

"Exactly, I'm basically on the highway to be a pro. So, on that note, when can I go with you to your hideout and watch you fight?" She asked me with a gleam in her wide eyes.

I gave her a look. Of course she had something in mind.

"I told you it's a dangerous place." I told her for the nth time.

The Underground Place.

An illegal street-fighting spot where people gather and place bets on the fighters.

I first discovered it through a friend a few months ago and the first time I came back with a bruised face, Casey freaked out and was worried at first but after telling her stories about the fights and showing her the new moves I learnt from watching the fights, she became interested in tagging along. She's been helping me treat the bruises I got from the fights ever since she found out. I've never been more grateful to have such busy parents. That was one less thing to worry about whenever I come home with a black eye.

"I'm gonna be just fine, Bry. You trained me yourself. We spend 2 hours training like we just did almost every day. I'd say that I'm pretty capable of protecting myself." Casey rambled, still not backing down.

I shook my head, giving her my 'You're-not-going-and-that's-final' look.

"But Bry!" She whined.

She scrambled across the mat to where I was sitting and latched onto my arm, eyes widened and lips jutted out into an exaggerated pout.

"I'll be good, I promise." She negotiated.

I shook my head, still not convinced.

"But you'll be there with me the entire time anyways. You can keep an eye on me, can't you? Please? I really want to go!" She begged some more.

The longer that I looked at her, the more upset she looked and the harder it was for me to say no.

Damn it.

She's definitely my weakness.

"Okay, fine, fine." I give in.

Casey's face lit up instantly and she started jumping around in victory.

"On two conditions!" I said in a louder voice for emphasis.

"Anything!" Casey blurted out without thinking twice.

"One, you stay right next to me or at lease where I can see you at all times."

Casey beamed, "Done!"

"Two, you don't fight. At all." I stated firmly.

Casey's face slightly fell but she nodded along. "Okay."

"When do we leave?" She asks.

"Go shower and then we'll leave." I stood up from the mat and offered her a hand.

Casey took my outstretched hand and pulled herself up before bolting out of the small room that we made our gym.

"Dress dark! Try to not wear anything that will attract attention!" I shouted up the stairs.

"I know, I'm not an idiot!" Casey shouted back, causing me to chuckle lightly.

I went to my room and took out some clothes to shower and change into.

Although Casey and I share a bedroom, my clothes and things are still in the room that was supposed to be mine. The only thing that was moved from my bedroom to hers was my bed. So there's a vast empty space where my bed is supposed to be in my room.

It took us 30 minutes to get ready since Casey was too excited and ended up being fussy. She started overthinking things and packed a lot of things that we didn't even need.

Our parents were out of the country again on a business trip and they won't be back until next weekend so any bruises I get tonight would probably be healed by then anyways. Casey taught me on how to cover the bruises with make up a while back by stealing some of Mom's cosmetics, so I can just conceal whatever bruise remains.

As you can see, I've thought it all out. My analytical mind comes in handy when I'm about to commit something that would be considered 'no good' to my parents.

"But don't you think that we'll need more water bottles and towels? What if you lose too much water from sweat and dehydrate? You'll pass out and lose the fight!" Casey fretted as she dumped 3 more water bottles into the duffel bag.

"Case, I'm pretty sure we won't need that much no matter how much I sweat. Let's just put that back into the fridge." I said slowly, fishing out the 3 water bottles and placing them into the fridge.

With the 3 water bottles and 2 towels out of the bag, we can finally zip it up.

I took the bag from her so that she won't be able to stuff anymore inside and brought it to the motorcycle.

"You ready?" I asked the 16-year-old teenage girl behind me.

She looked up from putting the house keys into a pocket in the duffel bag after locking up the house and gave me a thumbs up.

I climbed onto the motorcycle and kick started the engine, waiting for Casey to sling the duffel bag across her body and climb on behind me.

Casey grabbed hold of one of my shoulders and used her grip as a pivot to swing her body around and onto the motorcycle.

As she settled on the seat behind me, she adjusted the strap of the duffel bag, wore her helmet on and secured it before wrapping her arms around my waist and wringing her hands together.

"Let's go," Casey said excitedly.

I smirked, kicking the bike stand off and flicking the helmet screen down before bending my body forwards and setting my hands on the steer.

I didn't need to say anything anymore, once I've revved the engine, Casey immediately tightened her grip around my waist and we lurched into the streets, past our house's gates.

We swerved from lane to lane, passing cars and the trees on the side of the street. Everything was a blur as the wind whipped against my skin.

Hearing Casey's hoots and hollers my grip on the steer tightened as the grin on my face grew. Her voice was faint, drowned out by the traffic's noise, but the thrill laced in it was evident.

The Underground Place was on the worse side of town. It wasn't exactly in the slums but the area becomes shady once the sun disappears.

We arrived soon after and I parked the bike a distance away from the basement door that leads to the Underground Place.

"Remember the conditions?" I asked Casey to make sure.

Casey sighed in exasperation, "Yes, 亲爱的哥哥 (dear big brother). No fighting and always stay near you or in sight."

I nodded, satisfied.

I took the duffel bag from her and led the way.

We crossed the road and walked to the alley that hid the door to the Underground Place.

I banged on the door and twisted the knob three times anti-clockwise.

To those who didn't know how to open the door, it would appear locked. It was the security measure implemented to keep outsiders out. There weren't many people who know about this place so those who are able to enter are mostly acquaintances of acquaintances.

I pushed the door open, smirking at Casey's wide eyes that were staring the door with full of wonder.

Casey was wearing black joggers with a dark shirt, blending in well with the dark lighting of the place.

Once we stepped through the door, it was like we entered a whole other world. The room must have been soundproofed because you couldn't hear the loud cheers and thumping of beer glasses even when you stand right in front of the door.

There was no smell of cigarette smoke because it was prohibited, most likely because the air ventilation of the place wasn't very good.

Instead, there was a musky smell in the air, and I suspect it was coming from the sweating fighters as they grappled each other for a winning stance.

There were people who sat on the round tables in the corners of the room and along the walls but the rest were standing by the stage where the fighters went head to head with each other to cheer whoever they placed their bets on.

I took Casey's hand to avoid losing her in the crowd as we made our way to the bar.

I waved with my other hand at the sight of the guy behind the counter who was shaking a metal bottle shaker.

He poured the contents of the shaker into a glass and jerked his head upwards as a greeting.

"Hey man, you brought company?" Joe asked, looking Casey over.

"Yeah, this is my sister, Casey." I nudged Casey to step forward so that Joe can see her properly under the dim lights.

"Case, this is Joe Dylans. He works here almost every night. He's Gordon's friend." I introduced.

"You mean Gordon as in Gordon Sanchez?" Casey asked to clarify. I chuckled, nodding.

Gordon is one of my mates in school. He's a pretty scrawny guy, with thick glasses on. Casey's following reaction was completely understandable.

"Does that mean Gordon comes here too?" Casey asked in shock.

"Yeah, but he only watches." Joe answered for me.

"Hey, do you mind watching her for a bit while I put my name in for the next fight?" I asked Joe, placing my hands on Casey's shoulder.

"No worries, go ahead." Joe said, nodding towards the registration desk in one of the room's corners.

"Stay here, okay? I'll be right back," I patted her shoulder and pushed her towards a seat before walking away to the registration desk.

I cut through the sea of people once more, this time to get to the registration desk.

"Back for more, kiddo?" Old George greeted me from behind the registration booth.

Old George was a man in his late 50s. He had this biker look going on with his dad bod covered in a leather outfit to match what was going on in his joint.

No one really owns the Underground Place. It's just an unused basement of an old building that was discovered by one of the regulars. But if there was anyone who can claim to own it, it would be Old George. He manages this place and keeps the place running. He made the rules and ensures that they were enforced.

"You know it." I smirked, grabbing a paper and pen.

"That's right, make me some money, boy!" He yelled over the loud cheers of the rough men in the audience.

"You know I will," I winked at the old man.

Once I finish writing down my stage name, I gave him a two-finger salute and turned around to walk back to where Casey was waiting.

There weren't many girls in this place. This place mostly attracts rough and burly looking men that comes here to relieve stress and treat their anger management issues.

I wasn't thrilled to bring Casey here. I never wanted to bring her here, mostly because I didn't want anyone to recognize her face outside of the joint.

It wasn't that I didn't believe in Old George's power in maintaining and upholding the rules that he had set for this place. Anything to do with Casey just makes me uneasy in general.

The rule Old George set; the rule that states everyone in the Underground Place should act as strangers to people they meet in the Underground Place outside of the joint; did put some of my worries to rest. But you can call me paranoid all you want; I believe that there are psychos out there who don't care about rules and are not afraid of the consequences.

"You look like a Pixie." I heard Joe say as I walk towards where Casey was sitting.

She was sipping on an iced drink, laughing at what Joe said.

"Is it because of the hair?" She asked.

Joe nodded, "It's eccentric, I love it."

"Hey, no hitting on a bro's sister." I cut in jokingly.

Joe held his hands up in a surrendering motion while Casey hit my arm lightly.

"He was just telling me how you should have a nickname in this place. You don't go around telling people your real name, do you?" Casey rambled.

I smiled at her habit. She always starts rambling when she's anxious or nervous.

"Don't worry, I'm not an idiot either." I shot back, quickly shutting her up. "Did you decide on a nickname?"

Casey nodded, "Pixie. I like Pixie."

I smiled, ruffling her hair. "It does suit you with this hairstyle."

"It suits me with any hairstyle," Casey sassily retorted.

I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress my smile. "Whatever you say, Princess."

"Are you fighting soon?" Casey asked, her eyes shining despite the dim room.

"2 more fights and then I'm up." I smiled, snatching her drink.

"No alcohol, right?" I asked Joe.

Joe snorted, "Do you think I feel like dying tonight?"

I smirked, "Smart Joe."

I took a sip, taking a look at Casey only to see that she was already entranced by the fight that was going on the stage.

I smiled, seeing how fascinated she was, and decided to let her be. She might just learn a thing or two from watching the fights.

I turned back to look at Joe who was wiping the counter down.

"How's your dad lately?" I asked.

Joe gave me a sad smile and a weak shrug. "Same old."

Joe's mom left when he was young and his never sober dad who's also a gambling addict was not making his life easier. He works 3 part-time jobs to keep his head above the water.

"The guys gave us another visit the other day and wrecked the house," Joe shook his head. "Man, I knew that my dad was running around throwing money like they meant nothing, but I didn't know how much of it was from those sharks. I'll probably have to work until the day I die at this rate. That's assuming that my dead-beat dad doesn't take any more loans from those assholes."

I gave him a sympathetic smile. I felt bad for the dude, I really do.

"Don't worry, man. I'll frequent this place more often and win you some extra money." I reached over and gave his shoulder a pat.

He was a decent guy stuck in a shitty position. Life sucks like that.

"Thanks man, you don't know how much that means to me." Joe said, giving me a bro handshake.

"Don't mention it, it's the least I could do for a friend in need." I smiled slightly, returning the handshake.

Suddenly, my stage name was called out.

"That's me," I told Casey, standing up from my seat.

"Really? Master B? Were you seriously unable to come up with anything better?" Casey gave me an unamused look.

I chuckled, messing up her hair. "Shut up, Ms. Criticize-anything-and-everything. It's a great stage name."

Casey huffed, rearranging her hair.

"Come on, give me some good luck love," I offered her my hand.

She gave me a high-five, "Go get 'em, cowboy."

I tipped my imaginary hat and jogged towards the stage.

'Let's make some money,' I thought to myself.

Obviously, I wasn't doing this for the money. My parents make enough to support Casey and I by travelling around on so many business trips so frequently. But this was more like a hobby. The acknowledgement that I'm able to beat one more opponent and that I'm continuously learning new moves and my fighting skills are gradually improving was enough to make this fun for me.

Each opponent comes as a different challenge than the previous one and I use each as a steppingstone to improve how I analyse my opponent's weaknesses and learn new moves to attack and dodge.

Although there definitely was a price to pay to gain that lesson, that was the mentality that I keep in mind as I climb on the stage.

Not an opponent to beat down;

But an opponent to learn from.

Now, let the lesson begin.