“You might love him, but you gotta know that Gasnier’s biggest weakness is Diaz’ strength. All Diaz has to do is get him on the ground. Then he is finished. Fight’s over.”
Fiona gave an impatient puff of air through her lips. “Owen is too smart to let that roided’ up glob of cock snot get close. Did you see his fight with Jose De Silva? De Silva has the best ground game of the entire division. But what happened? Gaz’s focus was off the charts. Gaz never let him get close. Splitting him open with punches. Death of a thousand cuts until he dropped him like a turd. Whoever wins tonight is just keeping the belt warm for our boy.”
“So your friend likes him too?”
“Well she should, she was riding him like a bronco for three days.” Fiona shrugged.
Tegan only then became aware they were talking about her. She turned to see the guy laugh off her comment and then address his friends.
“Really?” she asked under her breath.
“How else was I gonna shut him up? He didn’t believe me anyway.”
The line dissolved after twenty or so minutes, Fiona getting weird looks from time to time from people passing by. Apparently wearing a fighter’s shirt that wasn’t appearing on the card was some kind of unspoken crime. When they finally got to the entrance, Tegan was surprised as they were almost rushed in, but then she saw why.
The bouncers had seen the Gasnier shirt and like fans of a football team, they called them closer. Bison and Tyson, according to their badges, showed off their Gasnier wristbands to Fiona, who proudly wiggled hers in front of them too. The bands had been selling for a dollar at Owen’s fight for a charity he supported. Seeing the three of them laugh and chat like old friends made Tegan sorry she hadn't bought one.
Fiona waved goodbye and thanks to them as she lead Tegan inside, saying loudly, “Only a matter of time baby. Just a matter of time. GASNIAHHH! Woo!”
Some in the line behind them jeered her words but some yelled in agreeance. All in fun, yet Tegan couldn’t find any enjoyment in any of it. The longer she waited in line, the more she heard his name, the worse she felt.
She followed Fiona into the club, coming out into a sea of colour and lighting. Four huge TV screens had been placed above the dance floor. One in each corner, giving the people inside every chance to get a view wherever they sat or stood. They had gotten in about halfway through the second to last match. Tegan paid no attention to it, trying to find a spare seat. Somewhere.
She heard glass breaking and turned to see a man with two women in a booth. He had been watching the fight and had obviously disagreed with the result, smashing his glass to the floor. Several people near him had jumped out of the way, but there were a few that were touching their legs, checking for fragments.
“Oi!” came a voice through the crowd. A lean, athletic, brunette woman, who looked like she meant business, approached the booth. “Out.”
“Fuck off,” he replied.
“I love it when you talk dirty.”
Then it was Tegan’s turn to jump back. The brunette took the drunk down with a mere sweep of her leg. His shoulder twisted and his arm went high in the air.
“Now, what was that?” she called out over the noise of the patrons and the yelling of his female companions. “You’re gonna leave quietly with no bullshit, did I hear that?”
The man under her clenched his teeth and nodded furiously.
“Good! That’s what I thought you said. Door is that way,” she said, letting him up and pointing to the exit. The man, red in the face, moved towards the exit, but his friends continued to make trouble. Screaming at the brunette that a lawsuit was coming.
“Yeah, yeah. Tell your sob story walking. Out!”
Tegan found herself suddenly locking eyes with the brunette, who had just then realised she was so close. “Hi! What can I get you?”
Tegan slowly, uncertainly, pointed to the booth.
“Sure,” said the brunette brightly, quickly clearing the glasses and resetting the table. “Welcome to T, guys. I’m Michelle. Holla if you need anything, or the bar is right up there. Drinks are cheap for the next ten minutes or so. Help yourself.”
Both Tegan and Fiona watched Michelle leave before sitting down. “Anyone else want to marry her?” Fiona asked, watching her go.
“Get in line,” Tegan replied.
“OK. First shout is on me, what ya havin’?”
“Can I just get a lemonade?”
“Seriously? Nothing else in there?”
Tegan’s stomach gave a tiny turn as if to reinforce her request. She hoped the fizz would help settle it. “Yeah, babe. Just that.”