Fight Club, Chapter 1

       Jordyn watched the fight. Uppercut, cross, kick, the two were evenly matched. Blow for blow she watch, fingers crossed in her coat pocket. Loud, sweaty men jostled her from all sides, placing bets and calling shots. Clinging to her spot at the very edge of the ring of people encircling the dueling pair, Jordyn winced as her favorite took a hard shot to the face. His head snapped sideways and she could see spit and sweat fly out in an arc. C'mon baby she thought C'mon you can do this. For me, baby, do it for me. She willed him to feel her thoughts. Eyes boring into his head, she willed him to look at her. He didn't, but he shook off the hit and launched back into battle. She whooped and hollered, showing her support. Though small in stature, being only 17 years old, she could hold her own in a raunchy place such as this. 
       The fight was winding down, she could feel it. Her man was fighting with a new vigor, adrenaline from the face shot fueling him to finish. He always fights better after a close call like that she observed. His opponent was waning, visibly getting tired, taking more shots than he dealt. Her fighter pulled back a fist, and Jordyn knew this would end it. She'd watched enough of his fights to know when his competitor was about to get the knock out. And that was right about now.
       She felt the jar of her mans fist slamming into this poor guys face. He fell, out cold, slumping to the unforgiving concrete. Cheers and jeers alike rang through the abandoned warehouse. Her man raised his fits in the air, pumping them for the crowd. Jordyn jumped and squealed, sharing his excitement. She wished she could just run right up to him, throw her arms around his neck, kiss the salt and blood from his lips. But as he spun in a slow circle, taking in the masses of people, she knew she couldn't. But as he turned to her, she sought his eyes. As the only teenage girl around, she had a good chance of him spotting her. Catching his gaze, she blew him a kiss, and his smile widened. He pumped his arms up again, letting out a triumphant cry.
       She giggled and blushed, loving that he saw her, among all these people. But with the fights finishing up, this was about to be a dangerous place for a teenage girl alone. Already the air, already hot and stinky from so many fights, were taking on the fragrance of more nefarious substances. Outside the front door of the place she could see tricks loitering outside, waiting to be picked up by their next John. Trying to make herself as small and slippery as possible, she melted into the crowd, and began to weasel her way through. After a few minutes of slithering and a considerable amount of grab-assing she had finally battled her way to the side door. 
       Slipping out she took a deep breath of October air. Brisk and arresting in the early throes of New York winter. After the sweat and stickiness of the club, she was happy for the fresh, cool air. Leaning against the cement wall just right of the door, she drank it in, trying to calm the heat that was coursing through her. Her whole body was flushed and she was lightheaded. She was always like this after watching him fight, wanting nothing more than to jump him in the middle of the club. But she wouldn't have to wait long before she got just what she wanted. Especially after a fight as good as that.
       The door opened again, revealing her prized fighter. The light and smoke from the interior of the room created an otherworldly frame around him. Making him resemble a fallen angel, heavenly features but speckled and smeared with blood. She just stood for a minute, appreciating her view. His impressive height, casting a long shadow across the ground. His rippling muscles, firm under shining, golden brown skin. Dark hair and darker eyes, he truly looked like an avenging angel. Absolutely breathtaking. When he spoke, his voice pitched low and rumbling, it practically shook the ground she stood on.
       "Hey baby, you ready to go?"