Of Kings and Aces

The Fight Club

Ever since the time at the Green Room, Jacob rarely made an appearance unless it was warranted. He coursed all his concerns through Bart or through Noelle, and rarely through Jaxx. It was a relief because I didn’t have to have another internal debate on my quarter-life crisis, nor did I have to dwell on anything remotely close to opening old wounds and issues.

Summer was about to end and the thought of having some quiet time in the white sand and aquamarine waters of Milieu Paradise Club revisited me. The beach was haunting me. It wasn’t as if I haven’t gone to one the entire summer. In fact, I’ve been to the beach almost all weekends but it was always so busy and we always ended up drunk senseless, like we were still in college.

What I wanted was quiet time with a few good friends. I never imagined I would choose that over partying and women, but I suppose things change, people change. A person’s preferences change as he matures indicating he was slowly giving in to adulthood and all the crappy responsibilities and shits that went with it.

It was then that I understood how Chino feels when he said he needed some quiet time. I used to think he was such a p***y. He partied and drank but if given the option, he would stay home and chill with his dog over Netflix and chips. Oh wait, he didn’t have a dog. He was a social recluse.

Not able to wait any longer, I barged into Jaxx’s office without knocking to find him and Jacob in a serious conversation.

“Is this a bad time?” I panted, breathless from walking too briskly.

“Not really.”

“Yes.”

They said at the same time. “Which one is it?”

“Get in,” Jaxx said while Jacob sighed, defeated.

“What’s happening?”

“Do you want to go to an underground fight club?” Jaxx asked, eyes twinkling with excitement.

“Hell, yeah! Like that Fight Club fight club, with the rules and s**t?” I quickly closed the door. I suddenly felt giddy from eagerness to find out where and when we’d be going. That movie was too violent for high school kids but it was a cult classic because everybody wanted to be cool even though it also was a little too deep for us to understand the real message or point of the movie.

“The first rule of Fight Club is,” I began.

“You do not talk about Fight Club!” we say in unison like Tyler Durden’s army and laughed. Jacob sat there watching us. The earlier annoyance was replaced by a stoical expression, not giving away any emotion except that I saw the corner of his lip raise ever so slightly.

“Wait, are you fighting again? Aren’t you too old for that s**t?” my eyebrows furrowed.

“I retired remember? We’re just going to be an audience,” he answered lazily.

“s**t, did you tell Bart?” I panicked.

“I’m not stupid,” he scoffed.

“Well, that’s news,” I chuckled and sat on the chair in front of Jacob. I was feeling more relaxed right now but it seems it was the opposite for him. He just stared at an object on the table, not bothering to even glance in my direction. “So when are we going?”

“There are fights tonight. First one starts at ten but the main event is at eleven, eleven-thirty,” he said, looking only at Jaxx. “I suggest you park somewhere safe or take a taxi. If you guys get there before ten, I can let you in. After that, though, you’ll have to pay the lookout guy.”

I scrunched my eyebrows, “Tonight’s Tuesday. Are you sure there’s going to be a fight on a Tuesday night?”

“Duh,” Jaxx answered for him. “Who’s your guy in this event?”

“No one really,” he vaguely answered.

“If I’m betting on someone, I want to make sure I win. Come on, what’s the point of going?” Jaxx asked irritably which made him laugh.

“I’m not sure who’s playing tonight. Like it’s always said, the first rule is not to talk about it. So I have no idea who’s fighting who,” he said while typing on his phone. After a few seconds, Jaxx’s phone pinged.

“Sent you the directions and instructions. Text me if you get there before ten. And bet on the royalty on the main event.” With that, he stood up and left.

I was left wondering what the hell just happened. We weren’t friends but was it necessary to be rude? All the positive energy escaped my body and was replaced with nothing but negativity. What a d**k!

“You okay? Why’d you come here?” Jaxx snapped me out of my thoughts.

“How are we going to know who’s royalty? Who will we bet on? That guy is really good with instructions,” I said sarcastically and he just chuckled.

“You’ll get used to it.”

“Huh. Anyway, I was going to invite you to Milieu this weekend. You, me, Chino, Seb. No girls.”

“What about Bart?” he asked.

“He’ll live. Well, all right, if he’s free. But I don’t want to drink ‘til dawn. I just want a quiet night and no partying.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?” hesitation and confusion were evident in his face though he was chuckling. “Since when did you not want to party and drink?”

“It’s just one weekend before I turn thirty. Stop overreacting,” I rolled my eyes. We discussed our plans a little more and once the date was set, I left his office to make the reservation and to tell Seb and Chino. Actually, I asked Noelle to do it for me.

♤

Before I knew it, Noelle was saying goodbye, letting me know she’s leaving. I contemplated driving or taking a taxi, as that person with poor communication skills suggested. The club was a few blocks away from the police department where I picked up Jacob that Tuesday night a few months ago.

Then it dawned on me: maybe he just came from the fight club that night and he was mugged on his way out, that’s why he was in that dodgy area at that god-forsaken hour at the start of the week! And that’s why the other detainee said something about betting on whoever next time. So he really frequented the fight club. Was it to gamble?

For some reason, I was disappointed with my realization. I didn’t like the fact that he gambled. Betting on games once in a while is okay, but betting on fights weekly was already an addiction. Gambling was a waste of money. If he wanted to play with his money, he might as well play the stock market.

Ugh, what did it even matter if he liked to gamble? He’s nothing but an employee! Dafuq is wrong with me? I scolded myself.

If that were Jaxx or Seb, then I’d have the right to be disappointed. They’re my childhood friends of course I’d care for them. And Chino would be there with me, getting disappointed.

I planned to head back to the condo to unwind before heading to the fight club but Jaxx offered to drive. The catch was that we’ll have to go to Pasig first to check on his mom and then we would probably get to the club past ten. It wasn’t a big deal. We were there for the main event anyway to bet on the royalty that I have yet to identify.

My eyebrows shot up when I recognized the place where we parked. It was the taxi station outside the exact police precinct where I picked up Jacob. A teenager in a black shirt and shorts quickly approached Jaxx. They talked in low voices first then the boy smiled and nodded at me as he shook my friend’s hand. Why do I get the feeling he’s done this before?

“Don’t ask if you’re not ready to hear the answers,” he said, answering the quiet question in my mind. He has come here before, he probably knows about the fight club for a while now. But of course, he was Benedict Jackson. I have no idea how he gets all this information and connections but I will make myself believe that he wasn’t involved in anything illegal or dangerous.

We walked a few blocks to get to the destination. It was a small warehouse somewhere in the bowels of Quezon City. The place was inconspicuous, one would think it was just another warehouse for cars or veterinary feeds. I counted only three security guards in uniform, one manning the door, another one at the gate, and the last one roaming around the deserted yard.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place? Is this the only area around?” I couldn’t help but doubt.

“No, but I’ve been here before, Ace. Trust me.” He spoke to the guard and they shook hands. He was handing him some money in a discreet way. The roving guard gave us a sloppy salute while the guard manning the door patted Jaxx’s shoulder lightly when he passed and nodded at me when I entered.

“So why did he pretend to send you directions? Why did you pretend to not know who’s playing tonight?” I was annoyed that they had to act so secretively in front of me. Pricks.

“I wasn’t pretending, I really didn’t know who was playing. I only ever come to watch when, uh, Jake wants company. And I don’t place bets on anyone,” he added.

“Then why did you want to place a bet tonight? What’s the deal?”

“I just want to try my luck. You might be my charm. Beginner’s luck, you know?” he lied unconvincingly.

Inside, there was legitimate heavy equipment parked. The hanging lamps were enough to light our path but not bright enough to illuminate the entire room. There was faint cheering and howling coming from the back and as we walked towards the back door, the sound grew louder. We passed rows of bulldozers and backhoes before finally reaching the exit, or entrance, however you see it.

“Ready?” Jaxx grinned. I nodded. I was unsure what to expect but I was not disappointed when I stepped inside. In fact, I was overwhelmed!

The thick crowd was cheering wildly at an ongoing fight, I could hardly see clearly where I was going. Lights were focused on the ring in the middle of the room and everywhere else was dark. Men from different walks of life were gathered packed in this one room. Some were standing on the floor, others seated on piled crates. Some others sat on the heavy equipment parked in the room. I almost tripped over sacks of what I presume would be cement, but I don’t really know. It was too dark to tell. It could be sacks of anything.

We settled several meters from the cage on the side opposite where we entered. We stood on top of piled crates giving us a clearer, eye-level view of the fighters. I have no idea how Jaxx got our spot but it was pretty good, knowing that we came in late. The victor was just announced and people were cheering and cursing at the same time. When I was able to get a better look around, I was surprised to see that there were also women in the house. And I’m not talking about the boxing ring girls, I’m talking women supporters.

Despite the adrenaline and euphoria coursing in the veins, my hands began to feel clammy. Something didn’t feel right. I looked around, searching for anything that might be the reason for the sudden dread in my gut. When I didn’t see a fire exit or any other door anywhere, I thought that might be it. If a fire started somewhere, I was sure I would not make it out alive.

“Jaxx, is there an emergency exit somewhere?” Instead of taking my question seriously, the i***t laughed.

“You’re here for the first time and all you’re worried about is an emergency exit? Worry about your phone and your wallet, you ass.”

“Of course I’d worry about emergency exits, I want to get out of this place alive if anything should happen, a raid, fire, or something,” I argued but at the same time, I patted my pockets making sure both my phone and wallet were still with me. “I’m serious, Ben!”

“Yes, yes, there are about five or six other exits aside from the one we came in from. Jeez, such a worrywart,” he said before pointing out the barely noticeable exit signs.

Suddenly, the lights were out and the room fell silent. The drumroll started when the announcer took the stage, mic in hand. The solitary spotlight was on a lean man with a receding hairline who was probably in his early to mid-forties. He wore a black muscle shirt, showing off his tattooed deltoids. When he smiled, the metal crown in the corner of his lips glinted.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you have been waiting for, the main event for the night, a battle to submission, a fight that promises to be a classic in every sense of the word!

“In the blue corner, weighing two hundred and twenty pounds of lean and mean muscles, the undefeated champion for two years, the one, the only, Renzel “Torpedo” Ugis!”

The crowd immediately erupted as another spotlight focused on the defending champion. He was definitely more than or at least six feet tall. His skin tone was on the dark side. He was huge. His muscles were angry and glistening. His arms reminded me of a well-oiled pork belly that was being roasted over coal. Only, I would not take a bite of his arm.

“In the red corner, we have a new contender. So brand new, in fact, that he joined us only a few months ago but his winning streak is nothing less than impressive. His technique, fresh and original, his speed quicker than a speeding train – not our beloved LRT, okay, that would not be saying anything at all,” the commentator joked.

“Weighing a hundred and eighty-five pounds with a face that could make any beauty his queen, and a fist that could make anyone bow to his command, let us all welcome ‘The King’!”

I cheered coolly with the rest of his fans while Jaxx was going wild. We always voted for the underdogs but his enthusiasm was over the top.

All my blood ran dry when The King entered the cage. I stopped clapping midway and my jaw went slack. My brain was in distress, unable to comprehend what that man in a red pair of shorts standing in the corner was doing inside the cage.

“You can not be serious,” I whispered.