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And then it happens. Otto finds his groove, and it becomes a fight. An uppercut wipes all amusement out of Lance’s eyes, but he doesn’t waver, seeming satisfied with the progression. He wants to earn it.
In round two, Lance’s steps are slightly heavier, but he remains controlled, Tony’s fighter.
“He’s still fucking with him,” Troy’s voice booms across the space between us. He’s just as in awe as everyone else in the row. Troy’s been to several of his fights and can see the growth himself.
When they break for round three, Laney chooses that moment to holler her support in her deep twang. “Knock his fuckin’ head off, Prescott!” We all turn toward her, laughing hysterically. Theo shakes his head, and she shrugs.
“What? I wanted to make sure he heard me.”
“The world heard you,” Theo says, eyeing his wife with love and amusement. And then the camera is on the five of us, panning in on Troy and Clarissa, and for a moment, I’m thankful Troy is here to take the focus off me. He’s been a hell of a support to Lance and me over the years. A solid friend. We couldn’t ask for better.
Tony hovers above Lance as Rip wipes his face and waters him up. And then the camera is panning in on me. Did they read his lips? Did they see our exchange? Was it Lance’s intent that the world know we’re getting married? A wedding will only intensify the scrutiny.
I stare at Lance in his corner who’s all too ready to go gloves up and something comes over me. The solution.
Who the fuck cares?
About them.
They who hurt us without knowing a second of our story.
Without knowing the struggles we’ve faced, that we’ll continue to face, together, fight for together.
And what we won is each other.
Fuck them.
Let their hate fester.
Let them watch.
Let them choke on that hate.
We won’t ever respond to it again.
It’s then I think of my dad, who’s sitting alone in his apartment watching my future unfold. I imagine right about now he’s regretting his mistakes where Lance is concerned. But Lance no longer harbors ill feelings toward him and reached out to get no response. He tried, and that’s all I can ask.
By the fifth round, we’re all on the edge of our seats, the momentum shifting again, and Otto is dominating. Lance avoids a jab, but Otto lands another uppercut I feel to my bones when Lance dizzies to the point he’s leaning on the ropes and he goes down on his knees. Heart sinking, I stand and begin screaming my support. I know I’m impossible to hear, but I will him to anyway. From where he kneels, I can feel his struggle, and within seconds, I’m at the side of the ring.
The referee starts his count as Otto celebrates, his arrogance rousing the crowd.
Tony curses in the corner as Trevor screams for his brother, and I do the same.
“This is yours, Prescott! Don’t let it in!”
As if he hears me, he’s on his feet within the
count of six. After a brief exchange with the ref, his dance is back. With Lance still dazed, Otto lands a slew of punches until the bell rings.
When round six sounds, everyone in the arena is losing their minds. Lance and Otto are back and forth, delivering blow for blow until Otto gains the upper hand. I’m close to regretting my demand when Lance pushes Otto back with one glove to the forehead.
“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” Troy exclaims just before Lance pounds his gloves together and unleashes the beast. No longer Tony’s fighter, but the man I met in the gym six years ago. The true fighter he is. The true fighter life made him.
Lance is giving it everything he is, he has, landing one solid punch after the other dodging Otto’s attempts. Otto looks very much like a punching bag jerking on the chain. And with each of his strikes, I see a flash of the past, of the first time I took a closer look at Lance in his element at our gym. Another right hook from Lance has Otto’s mouthpiece loose, and there’s only enough time for him to secure it back in before Lance delivers another. More memories flood me as my eyes water, and I picture him with his eyes closed while I circled him at Madison Square Garden.
“Through the ropes!” I scream, my eyes flooding as Lance picks Otto apart, punch by punch, not just fighting for the title, but winning against the odds that were stacked against him since the beginning.
“Through the ropes, baby!”
