Fighting to the Finish

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I watched with a heavy heart as his opponent threw his last punch, landing his fist right to Jay's jaw. 

Ding! Ding! Ding!  The bell went off after the referee had counted to three.  I sighed in relief that there would be no more fighting and I wouldn't have to worry about Jay as much.  I quickly lost my train of thought as Jay got off of the floor of the ring and walked out the door that led to the hallway. I looked around to see if anyone was following to help him or even noticed him leaving.  Everyone was too busy crowding around the victor. 

Someone needs to help him.

I quickly exited the large arena and wound my way through the halls in search of the locker rooms. Once I found the hallway that I was looking for I walked to the door that had Jay Ashton printed on it in big block letters.  My hand was raised about to knock when it suddenly opened. 

"He's not signing autographs or having interviews right now.  Ashton will not speak to anyone until tomorrow. Thank you for coming to the match though." Jay's manager. He spoke to me in an uncaring tone as if he just wanted to go to bed right there.

"I'm not here for an autograph or an interview.  I'm an old friend, kind of," I hesitated slightly on the last part.  Jay's manager gave me a doubtful look but I guess he could tell I needed to see him because he finally sighed and nodded his head in resignation. 

"Fine. He should be decent just don't let him know that I let you in. You never saw me and I never saw you.  Deal?"

"Deal!" I nodded so surprised that I was going to be able to see him so easily.

"Alright. I'm going home. Try to leave him in a good mood. I don't want to deal with this in the morning."

As he went towards the doors that led to the parking lot, I stood and faced the door that led to Jay. I slowly opened the door and walked down the hallway that led to the benches and lockers.

What if he doesn't remember me at all? What if he is in such a bad mood that he won't talk to me? What if-

My nervous inner rambling was brought to a halt when I turned the corner and finally saw him. He sat on one of the chrome benches in the dimly lit room hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees. His hands were pressed against his eyes like he was trying to block everything around him out. I could see red coloring the area of his jaw that had been brutally hit by his opponent not too long ago. The towel wrapped around his neck had barely helped with the sweat dripping from his dark hair and his duffel bag that carried his equipment in was sat open on the bench next to him.

"You here to finish me off, sweetheart?" Jay spoke suddenly, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin.

"N-no of course not. I just wanted to-"

"I'm not going to answer any questions. Did my manager not tell you that I didn't want any interviews?" Jay cut me off with anger clear in his voice.

"I just wanted to know if you were okay," I spoke almost in a whisper. Jay's eyes immediately snapped to mine, probably expecting a more demanding reporter or someone that had no care about his well being. I felt my heart hammer in my chest seeing his dark green eyes staring back into mine. "You took some pretty hard hits back there and I was worried about you."

"I'm fine." he said shortly looking back down at his shoes.

"Do you mind if I check? Your jaw looks like it needs some ice on it and I can't get the image of him hitting your ribs out of my head," I realized I was about to start rambling and quickly stopped talking. I squeezed my eyes shut and looked down at my hands that were slightly shaking. My head instantly perked up when I heard Jay chuckling lightly.

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