this painful pleasure of mine | {hedvig/keifer}

Sweat and dirt and blood are all things that are left behind when the ring is closed. Though truthfully, what I call "The Ring" is actually a basement of an abandoned building. The only ring that appears at all is that made up of the excited viewers, all with their hands wrapped in cloth and their faces menacing. They are all waiting for their own golden opportunity to win this room over. They are all waiting, hoping Hedvig and I call their name from the list we share next, while the others all slap wads of cash in our hands, half of the time placing their faith and their paycheck on the wrong person, but who am I to tell them that? Who am I to turn down a percentage of money that helps me get through? Enough money that I don't have to rely on my parents anymore, that I can be my own person.

Even when the room is empty, I can already tell precisely where everyone will stand, how they'll react to the big punches and the lucky ones, how much money they will be willing to gamble. This room is my life, with it's temporary inhabitants, with Hedvig, and with the talent exhibited, with every single aspect of it.

Hedvig and I rarely show up on time, after all, this is our game, and we are the ring leaders, and usually there is already a small crowd of people sitting on the porch, waiting like children that have been locked out of a candy store. Today, however, we find ourselves in the basement early, both of us sitting behind a simple table, sorting through files and deciding which matches would be fair, counting money and making small talk until we hear the first of them.

After a crowd of about ten are standing around, I stand to begin the seemingly traditional speech. "This is not fun and games," Oh, but it was, "This is not for the faint of heart. This is a business, our business, and no one is to speak of it. We are the warriors of our generation, and our only comfort and solace lies in fighting," I nod to Hedvig so she can say her part of the speech, and then I smile. "Now, who is ready for a fight?" I ask, a menacing smile stretching across the length of my face as the crowd begins to clap and yell.

"Today is, ah, a special occasion. For those of you that are veterans to our club, you already know this can only mean one thing: Hedvig and I are going to join in on the fighting tonight." I have had plenty of practice in my lifetime. I was selected to be in the five-sides tournament, for Ripred's sake, and I won. I had my fun there, letting Bette and Holly think they were both thieves of my heart, but it was all only fun and games. I don't even have a heart for them to steal, do I?

I hear collective sighs around the room, and I don't have to ask why. There is a reason we call it a special occasion. It rarely happens because, well, frankly, none of these dumb asses are strong enough or capable enough to beat either of the pair of us, and when it comes to us fighting each other, either time runs out or we beat each other too senseless to carry on. Tonight means one thing to me: Money. I'll have it in spades after a few fights, and Hedvig will too. "Good luck to you all," I call, then turn away from the crowd. "You are going to need it."