She shakes her head with a small smile. She’s been around fighting long enough that despite never having gotten in the cage herself, I know she understands my answer. A lot of people don’t see MMA as a sport, they just see it as people beating the shit out of each other. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Fighting is the ultimate competition between humans: it requires skill, strength, speed, intelligence, and strategy, for starters. Nowadays you can’t just be good at one aspect of this sport—you have to be really good at all of it. So even though on screen my sport looks like human cockfighting, it’s actually the final exam of everything we’ve spent weeks, months,yearstraining for. And being able to execute all of that hard work is exhilarating and actually incredibly fun.
I study Remy thoughtfully. "OK, my turn. Have you ever thought about fighting? You’ve done plenty of Jiu Jitsu tournaments, so what about taking a fight?"
She shrugs and starts playing with a thread on her sweatpants as she answers. "I’ve thought about it. Plenty of people have pushed me to try it over the years. Lucy tries to get me to take one every time she has a fight. But I just don't think I care enough about actually getting in the cage. I love training and studying the techniques, but I don't think I have it in me to want to hurt someone. I'm sure I would do fine if I actually did take a fight, but if the whole point is to physically best your opponent, and I don't really want to do that, then why would I do it?" She shrugs again as she looks up at me. "Maybe someday I'll want to experience what fighting is like but for now I just don't really have any interest. I'd rather watch you guys fight."
I hum thoughtfully at her answer. Most people have the opposite response—they brag about how much they want to fight, post it all over social media, but never put the necessary work in and usually end up dropping out of the sport after the brutal reality of their first fight. It's refreshing to hear someone that thinks like Remy.
She moves onto her next question. "Question #2: what would you be doing if you weren't fighting?"
"Like with my career or as a hobby?"
"Both, I guess. Although I assume they're wrapped in one for you, so fighting is either your whole life or nothing at all."
I nod. She's spot on in her assumption. I tilt my head and mull over her question. "If I wasn't fighting, I would've just used my business degree for something. Which is most likely what I'll end up doing after I retire, too. I would've figured out what industry I want to be in and what kind of work I like doing. I can't give you a more specific answer because I have no idea. Fighting has taken up all my headspace since even before college."
"What if it were just a hobby? What sport would you pick instead?"
I quirk an eyebrow. "How do you know I would need to pick a sport as a hobby? What if I enjoy chess?"
She looks at me in shock. "Do you like chess?"
I smirk and take a swig of my beer. "I do, actually. You don't need to assume I'm a dumb brute just because I like punching people."
"I didn't—" she sputters defensively.
"We're venturing into follow-up questions, which I believe is against the rules," I interrupt. She swallows roughly but nods. "What was the first thing you liked about training?"
A warm smile lights up her face and I can't help but think about how genuine her expressions are—and how contagious her happiness always seems.
"I liked how strong it made me feel," she replies honestly. "It's probably a cliché response as a chick but it really is empowering to be able to throw a good punch. It's so ingrained in us to be dainty and feminine that it's like a shock of cold water when you realize that a strength like this is actually practical. I push every woman I know to try a class at least once, just so they know what it feels like." She grins as she continues, visibly getting more and more excited now. "My favorite part is how nervous and awkward they are when they start, but then they slowly start to get into it and by the end they look like they're women on a mission. It's awesome."
Her answer is helpful from a gym employee perspective, since I can use that knowledge to make the right pitch to prospective female members. But it also surprises me—it’s odd to think of Remy as anything but strong. Her physical strength is decent but it's her mental strength that puts the majority of grown men to shame.
"OK, enough about me. Next question is what was your favorite subject in school?"
I smirk. "History. My turn."
Her jaw drops open. "That's it? That's all I get? I gave you a whole dissertation as my answer."
I shrug. "It's not my fault you asked a simple question. Nowhere in the rules does it say I have to defend my answers."
She knows I'm right so all she can do is glare. I chuckle and think about what else I want to ask her.
"What's one thing on your bucket list?"
My thoughtful question surprises her. For a few seconds she just blinks, and I wonder if I've actually stunned her into silence.
"I've always wanted to go blonde," she mumbles. "I've only ever had brown hair and for some reason I've always wanted to see if I could pull off the hot blonde look. But everyone always tells me it'll look horrible and that I shouldn’t do it. So, I don't know if I'll ever actually have the balls to go through with it."
"You're already hot," I blurt without thinking. She blushes and looks down, and I try to cover my compliment by adding, "But fuck what anyone else thinks. They shouldn't have any say in what you want to do with your life. If you want to go blonde, go blonde. Fuck, go hot pink if you want to. It shouldn’t be anyone’s decision but your own."
She laughs at my visual. "I don't think my office would appreciate hot pink hair, but I get your point." She contemplates her next question, then asks, "What's your top travel destination that you want to visit?"
"I loved Thailand and Brazil for the training but I've already been there so I can't put that on my list. I'd probably say Rome."
She looks at me skeptically. "Because you like history?" she guesses. I grin and wink at her, to which she rolls her eyes.
"My cousin lives in Rome," says conversationally, reaching for her beer. "Jax and I always talk about visiting, we just haven't gotten around to it. We always end up in a different European city."