I cut off the engine after parking on a shadowed area where I usually parked and hung my helmet carefully on the steer before making my way inside the building.

Let me tell you about the underground place. It’s a place where people street fight. It’s illegal so there’s not many who knows about it, maybe a few close friends of the fighters and that alone got 30 people streaming in every night and there were only a few female fighters in here.

Here, I go by Pixie because I used to have a pixie haircut. The bartender is an old friend of my brother. He said the haircut suited me. The basic rules were if you fight and lost, you go home empty handed, bruised and battered but no one should know why, but if you win, you go home with a handful of cash.

Moving on, I know most of you are probably wondering why I started to fight. And I can assure you that it was not for the money and it was certainly not for the fame or attention.

The main reason was because every time I fight, it felt like a part of my brother was still with me. My brother taught me everything I knew. From school subjects to swimming, riding bicycles, motorbikes, driving and of course, fighting. I needed to hang on to that thin thread even if it’s just for a minute.

Besides, I’m good at fighting and it’s my hobby.

As I made my way inside, I greeted the bartender and scanned the place. I made sure to tie my hair into a high ponytail before coming in so that it’ll stay away from my eyes.

Jogging up to where they have these stands where you need to sign in before you get to fight, I did the paperworks and took a seat without a glance to the people that were sitting behind the stands. I decided to focus on the fight whilst waiting and I found myself getting so immersed into the action happening up there that I blocked everything out.

The guys up there fighting were both buff and tough looking, and one of them is a dear friend. I watched intently as the blonde dude took a jab to the jaw. He was a newbie, and it was obvious that the black haired guy was easy on him for it. The black haired guy managed to trip the blondie and his back made contact with the floor. I can tell it was a pretty hard fall but the sound was swallowed by the cheers and hollers from the crowd. Either he was too tired or too out of it but either ways, he didn’t stand and the black haired guy was declared the winner.

He caught my eyes as he raised both of his gloved hands and grinned, seeming ecstatic to see me. He made his way down towards where I was standing and greeted me. “Yo Pixie! Glad you could make it, how’s it holding up?” He pointed to my jaw that was almost completely healed from my previous fights.

I grinned back at him, “It’s healing pretty quick, I’m ready to fight as soon as they announce my name.”

“Atta girl! Never letting anything bring you down!” He was about to say something else but the speakers went on and my name was mentioned.

“Go kick some ass, sweet cheeks.”

I smiled cheekily at that. “When have I ever disappoint,” I caught an amused smile growing on Levy’s face at my response before running up the ring with my backpack, settling on my corner.

I never listened for my opponent’s name to keep it as a surprise. Besides it wasn’t like I was going to ever see him after this fight. Finishing the wrap, I fisted my hands a few times before warming up a bit more and walked up to meet my opponent.

He had a great built and a bulky posture. Guys tended to not wear shirts when they fight and I learnt to not be bothered by them flanking their abs. This guy had a gleam in his eyes that I’m sure I didn’t like, when I finally figured out why it was so familiar, I knew why I didn’t like it. It was the same kind of look Bryant always had when he knew he was gonna beat me in a game of chess, I instantly feel irritated. Partly because I didn’t like how that look on that guy’s face reminds me of my brother and partly because I despised cocky assholes with a passion.

The match started and the people roared with excitement. I watched his movements carefully and let myself flow with it. After a few minutes of dodging his hits and annoying him, I finally figured out his rhythm. Every time he’s about to throw a punch, he always ducks his head slightly and shuffles on his feet before throwing a kick. With a closer look, I could clearly see an opening at the left side of his jaw which was wide open most of the time since he seemed to be left handed.

I made a flitting decision and made a move to give him a blow on the side of his thigh hard enough to make his leg slightly limp. I was always known for my speed which was another reason for the nickname. I made a move to jab him but got blocked.

As I expected, he covered his face with both of his hands but he didn’t covered up effectively because the side of his face was left unprotected. In the midst of throwing the jab, I swung my fist, aiming for his jaw and was rewarded with the big guy stumbling backwards and loosing his balance for a brief moment.

For the finishing blow, I grabbed the back of his neck, but he caught on sooner than I expected and tried to cover his face before I can bring my knee into it. I changed tactics and used the inside of my arm, right below my elbow to hit his adam apple while my foot went behind him, in between his legs, and hooked itself to his leg, tripping him and resulting in him kissing the ground.

He took a pretty hard fall. It’s either that or he was just too embarrassed to face the crowd. Either way, like any other nights, I was declared winner and the crowd went wild. Thumping of beer glasses went on and the place thundered with life. I collected my money and waved off to the bartender before making my way to my bike.

I stuffed the money into my leather jacket’s inner pocket and zip it up over my tight V neck shirt and I took my trainees from the compartment under the seat and use it over the black shorts I wore. Much better.

I don’t particularly like the attire but it’s the only thing that’s not too showy and at the same time, fitting to use at a fight that I can think of.

I sighed in content and took the helmet that was dangling on the bike’s steer. No one would’ve dared to take it from it’s place once they see my initials engraved on it. People here knows not to mess with me and I, for once, am happy to stay ignored. Associating myself with the people that hangs out here would mean trouble and I have enough of those on my plate as it is.

I hopped on the bike and insert the key to the ignition before revving it and pulling out of there.

Now, to deal with that assignment the English teacher gave us.