Koben's P.O.V.
There's something incredibly inspirational about old uncared for places. Ceilings falling apart, ruined dusty tiles that seem to have never been cleaned, broken mirrors, worn wooden desks... Places like that tell a story of their own - stories of struggle. Stories of focus. Stories of pain. And stories of success.
I walk across the vast workout hall, the feeling of pained grandeur taking me into its thick heavy veil. Immediately, I decide I want to be a part of this place - yet another story of struggled success. Another underdog champion...
"I've only been here once before," grandfather cuts the silence, his voice echoing against tall brick walls.
"My dear friend, Connor, brought me here once," he continues as I look at him.
He walks over to a worn-out boxing ring at
