I readjust the dark skinny jeans on my waist the next evening and pull at the white blouse I decided to put on. My fingers run through my wavy hair a few too many times and I sigh in frustration. Looks like this is as good as it's getting tonight.

I keep my makeup natural. I've never been one to wear very much of it, mostly because my attempts at putting it on have always failed miserably. I'm not going to start changing myself tonight for this insane event I've got myself caught up in. An underground fighting match? I can't think of anything worse, but when I told Georgie that she hadn't wanted to hear of it.

"Babe, the boys are here." Georgie pushes my door open, revealing her slender figure that's highlighted perfectly by the tight dress she wears. "You look cute," she teases, poking my red cheek as I follow her into the kitchen.

Although Georgie and I are similar in many ways, our style is not one of them. Take tonight for example: she flaunts her model-like figure perfectly in an expensive low-cut dress and I cover mine as much as possible.

"Isaac said they're parked outside," she explains as we walk together down the hall. "I'm actually really excited."

"Why?"

"Because this is our first time ever doing something reckless!" She squeezes my arm, but I struggle to share her same enthusiasm. "Plus, Isaac is really sweet."

"I knew it!" I exclaim as she stares at the ground. "You have a crush on him, don't you?"

"He's really nice and even you have to admit, he's extremely good-looking, so is Clarke."

Both Clarke and Isaac remind me of the many popular boys from our high school that Georgie dated. I would tend to stay in her shadow, so they never really noticed me, which I didn't mind. I can only hope Isaac won't break Georgie's heart like many of her past boyfriends.

"Hey, girls." Clarke leans against the passenger side of a new car, flashing an all too charming smile. "You both look lovely."

"Thanks," Georgie answers before I can say anything. I return his smile when he opens the backseat door for us both. "Where is this place anyway?"

"Downtown," Isaac answers as I buckle my seatbelt. "There will be hundreds of people there, everyone wants to watch Shawn fight. I've been trying to get into one for months."

My stomach sinks lower than before. I can't help but feel uneasy with all of this and when we pull down a dark backroad with what looks like thousands of people, I only feel worse.

"Woah," I breathe as I examine the variety of different men and women making their way into a rundown building. All of the women are wearing dresses and revealing material like Georgie is so my choice of attire stands out when we leave the car.

"This is like the real deal stuff," Georgie comments as the four of us walk towards the double doors together. Hulk-like bouncers are everywhere, all dressed in leather clothing. They examine everyone bustling through the door. It really does remind me of a professional event, not an illegally held backstreet fight.

"Tickets," one bouncer barks. I find myself stepping more closely to Georgie, the loud music and cheering from the arena only getting louder. Clarke hands the man four pieces of slender paper. "Enjoy the fight."

I very much doubt I will, but I thank him politely anyway.

"Told you, full house," Clarke calls behind his shoulder as we follow him through the maze of people, most holding some kind of alcoholic drink between their fingers. I feel like a small schoolgirl in the frenzy of the loud and wild crowd.

"These are our seats," Isaac states as he takes his spot beside Georgie. She sits beside me and Clarke flops into the spare one on my other side, offering me a small smile. Our spot is only a few rows back from the front, but it's slightly raised and perfectly centred, giving us the best view of the currently empty ring. The crowd is huge and each and every person in it cheers, hollering and banging as loudly as they can to the booming music. I expected a gully with a couple of guys having a punch up, but this is like professional stuff. I know I don't belong here. I can tell just by the way women stare at me with judgmental looks as they walk past.

"I take it you don't do stuff like this much?" Clarke asks over the loud banter. Isaac and Georgie are too engrossed in their own conversation to listen to ours. I nod, examining the blonde boy who seems much too tall to fit in his seat. "What do you like to do?"

"I write and read a lot." I suddenly realise how lame that sounds when I say it out loud. "But my family and I used to go hiking and travelling together when I was back at home. What about you?"

"I play basketball a lot." He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck as if he's embarrassed. "My dad got me into it when I was young, so I guess that's all I've ever really had time for."

"That's awesome. I don't really understand sports at all, but to be fair, I do find basketball more interesting than most others. My dad loves watching it." He laughs brightly. He seems nice, nicer than anyone else around here, at least.

"Maybe I could bring you to one of my games once college starts? If you don't think that sounds too boring."

"I'd like that." I barely have time to finish speaking when the lights dip, making the crowd roar even more loudly than before.

I really don't like this.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen." A spotlight burns down on a rather small man dressed in a tuxedo. He stands in the centre of the ring, microphone in hand. "How are we all doing on this lovely Friday evening?"

The audience erupts in response and he smiles at this, a natural smirk resting on his large lips.

"Well then, let's not waste any time. I'm sure you're all excited to see who our new challenging competitor is?"

The crowd boos and bangs in response and I jump in fright, not expecting the unfriendly sounds and aggressive curse words that erupt from the people around us. If my dad knew I was here, he would most definitely have a heart attack.

"Measuring in at a towering height of 6'3" and coming to us all the way from New York, this brave young man has accepted the challenge of taking on our greatest competitor for his title. Can he do it? We shall see. Ladies and gentleman, make some noise for Alexander Asseno!"

The response from the hundreds of animalistic men and women around us is anything but welcoming. The dirty things they scream out and threaten over the loud rap music makes me feel disgusted immediately. I want to go home and the fight hasn't even started.

A new spotlight emerges from the right side of the arena, falling on a giant man who has a bright red robe covering his torso and face, with nothing but tape around his knuckles and loose shorts on his bare legs. He's followed by an entourage of whom I'm guessing consists of his coaches and trainers. They all share the same emotionless expressions as they walk towards the ring.

They look more like monsters than men.

The buff fighter easily moves through the cage-like barrier around the arena, pulling the robe from his body and jumping a little on the balls of his feet. His skin is perfectly tan and random parts of his body are covered in tattoos. He's incredibly fit and the evident indents of a six-pack shine from his flexing stomach.

"He's going to get his ass handed to him." Clarke lowers his mouth close to my ear so I can hear him. I swallow dryly at his words and attempt to calm my growing anxiety.

"But he's a giant," I answer. I can't imagine anyone who would be able to beat him. "He's barely human."

"Wait till you see Shawn."

Before I can answer the lights dip again, focusing back on the man in the designer suit. "Now, my friends, the moment we have all been waiting for tonight."

The atmosphere in the audience changes. Whooping and cheering of all sorts come from everywhere around us. It's very obvious who the favourite is. Any kind of negative insults are completely gone; instead, words of encouraging support echo from wall to wall.

I suddenly feel sorry for the competitor waiting nervously in the ring for Shawn.

"Measuring in at 6'5" is our champion. We know him well, he started fighting when he was just eleven years old, ladies and gentlemen, and he has never come close to being beaten. I ask you all to please give a huge round of applause for the warrior and legend himself." The entire place is absolutely silent, so silent I can only hear my heart banging loudly against my ribcage. "The one and only Mr Shawn Michaels!"

Everyone goes berserk as soon as his name is spoken.