Linx stared at the horizontal punching bag, it swaying from side to side. He listened to the cheers from the audience outside the metal door and all the smashes the opponents do to one another.

He should be warming up now, practicing his hits and dodges, make sure he won't pull a muscle or injure himself. But instead, he was laying down on the narrow metal bench. His arms floating in the air and his head resting heavily on the cold metal.

Linx looked at the clock that was next to the metal door, seeing that he only has two minutes left before he has to fight.

Fight for what though?

Linx didn't dwell on the question though, as he has recently resorted to not thinking at all. For if he doesn't think, he doesn't have questions, and with that no answers that don't make sense to him.

He got up, his feet dragging behind him and a dull pain residing in his chest. He stood there, eyes closed, waiting for the door to open to cue him in.

He waited, even yawning for he hasn't slept properly for the past few weeks, and flinched when he heard the door scraping against the floor.

Linx ignored the men coming in the room and went inside the arena. He tuned out everyone, not feeling to waste his energy in these loud crowds, and checked out his opponent.

The guy was quite tall with a brooding face and a sharp jaw. His eyes dull but filled with annoyance. He also looked a bit heavy, maybe around 170 pounds (77 kg), where as Linx was only 141 pounds (64 kg).

God damm you Rooster.

Sure, Linx doesn't care if he wins or not. But he'd much rather lose because of skill then because someone weighs more then him.

For in proper Greco-Roman wrestling, you would be put in a weight class and have matches with people in that class. Actually, every time an event starts, everyone is weighed and then put in a class. They then have matches and the process repeats every event.

But Rooster doesn't have the time or money to weigh everyone each time a new event happens. Rooster was created much like how a bar is created. Sure, they have great drinks and service, but everyone comes there to meet new people or some other reason.

Rooster isn't made to grow talents, it's made to entertain the common folk. That's something Rose has been drilling into him since day one, making sure he was ready to give up some dignity to entertain the crowd.

Linx waited for ref, or more like the random guy with the whistle, to blow his whistle. He did and the six minutes began.

The two circled around for a few seconds, when the guy stepped forward and tried to grab Linx by the arms, attempting to bring him to the ground. Linx dodged and used his momentum to bring him to the ground and locking the guys arms with his own.

Linx wasn't fast enough though and the guy flipped the two over, but the guy certainly wasn't ready for the slap to the face and with his small confusion on why the obvious penalty wasn't being called out, Linx pushed against him and their positions reversed.

Linx tried to grab and control his arms but failed as the guy retaliated back and was soon standing up, Linx following his lead.

The guy lounged forward and again aimed to grab him but now at his shoulders. Linx being too slow, the guy managed to get an unstable hold of his shoulders, and just when Linx was about to push away, the guy dug his fingernails into his skin.

The ref didn't call out the penalty even though he had a clear view of it.

Blinded with pain for a second, the guy got a stable grip and brought Linx down, both his shoulders touching the ground for a few good seconds. Linx, unable to get the hold off of him, elbowed the guy in his guts.

The ref whistled at the penalty and the guy stopped his hold, getting up and into his ready position.

Of course they call out a penalty when they see who's dominating the match...

Linx got in his ready position and the whistle blowed. The guy, gaining some confidence, immediately leaped forward and tried to get a headlock on Linx. Linx, not quick enough, dodged it but not the guy's steel grip on his arms.

The guy tried to twist Linx's arms behind him and bring him to the ground, but Linx twisted away and got stable on his feet again. The guy lunged again and tried the same tactic, but missed Linx's head and grabbed onto his singlet, catching Linx off guard.

The ref didn't whistle at the penalty and the match continued.

The guy, sensing Linx's off-balance, shoved him to the side with his shoulder and Linx's body crashed to the mat. Linx kept fighting back to get some control back and managed to get out of his grip when the guy's balance in his back was off-centered, he pushed the guy to the side and quickly hopped back up.

The guy followed suit and two glared at one another, moving in circles on the mat.

The guy jumped forward and Linx tried to dodge it, but his stiff muscles protested, and the guy got him in a secure sideways headlock. Linx tried to maintain his ground, twisting and thrashing around.

And for some strange reason, Linx scanned the crowd.

He's never bothered to pay attention to the crowd before, always finding them annoying and a waste of space, giving him headaches from all their loud shrieks and screams.

But tonight he looked.

Maybe he really didn't give a shit to anything anymore, his brain dead with all his thoughts.

His eyes jumped from one head to another and was soon piercing into familiar baby blue eyes, his innocent but mischievous face with those teasing lips staring right back.

Finn.

Linx was slammed to the ground, the aching pain not even registering to him, only the terror that he felt.

He needed to get out.

"I forfeit." Linx whispered but it was heard clearly by the guy who was still on top of him. The guy scrunched up his eyebrows, confused.

Roftkal never forfeited, he either wins or loses, never giving up.

The guy ignored Linx and got up when the ref whistled that the first two minutes were over.

Linx got up and glanced back at Finn and sure enough, all the other boys were there.

Silence surrounded the boys and Linx, a second of peace before all hell broke loose.

"I forfeit." Linx spoke clearly but anyone who paid attention, could hear the quiver in his voice and see his rapid moving chest.

Linx sprinted out of the arena and into the waiting room, surprised to see Rose.

And then everything clicked.

"Linx? What're you doing here, you're supposed to be in there- oh?" Rose's phone started to ring, and as she was about to answer it, Linx slapped it out of her hands.

Rose felt dread creeping on her, knowing something was terribly wrong, for Linx has never hurt her physically.

"Linx, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Rose stepped forward and tried to hug Linx, but Linx jumped back and got into his fighting stance.

His eyes darted around the room and locked onto the exit door, just to the right of Rose.

"Linx-"

"Rose," He stared into her worried eyes, "I thought I trusted you."

He dashed forward and Rose tried to pounce him down, but he kicked her in the stomach, and made a successful escape.

The door shut behind him, closing off Rose's grunts of pain.

He immediately went to the exit door in the hallway and breathed in the cold air, it cooling down his frantic heart.

He was about to sprint when a large hand stopped him and turned him around. Linx threw a blind punch toward the person, but they caught it.

"Woah woah woah, what's going on Roftkal? I thought you were fighting?"

It was Jazz.

It was Jazz.

Tears started to stream down his face, as Linx clenched Jazz's arm.

"Get me out of here. Please." Linx chocked on his words and more tears poured out, his legs slowly giving out. Jazz didn't need to hear no more, but his bag was inside, and so were his truck keys.

"I will, don't worry. Just go hide behind that truck over there and I'll be back faster then you can say Rooster, yeah?" Jazz squeezed the kids arms and hurried to the exit door.

As the door closed behind Jazz, Linx was already hiding.

Hiding under the truck.

He didn't trust for a moment that the boys wouldn't just pop out from nowhere. He needed to protect himself from all sides and hide, hide from those strangers.

As he waited for Jazz to come, or to sprint away from the boys, his mind wandered to all the obvious clues that something was amiss with the people he knew.

Like how Ivy didn't need to be babysitted last Sunday, when usually Linx drops by for a few hours to entertain Ivy while Rose does her mother chores.

Or how Rose hasn't been asking him nearly enough intrusive questions about his private life, as if she's already figured out all her answers.

Or how the boys have been avoiding him. Sure, Linx typically avoids them and he barely gets a minute of eye contact from any of them each month, but these past weeks have been different.

Whereas before when Linx had breakfast someone would come in and have a light chat with him, now he just listens to the clicks of the keyboard from the office as he drinks his tea in silence.

Or how the boys used to get physical with him by hugging or pecking his cheeks, now he just gets timid smiles and awkward shuffles to the side to make sure they don't touch him.

It's like they've just given up on him. It's what Linx has always tried to achieve, and he was happy for a bit that they've given up on him.

Maybe that was when the loneliness kicked him in the guts. Maybe that was when his sleep schedule converted more into a nap schedule. Maybe that was when he started to question why he still lives with the boys.

But now he doesn't know.

Do they care? Is this one a big joke or has he began to hallucinate because of his lack of sleep?

Whatever the case, he needs to get out of here- and fast.

The exit door opened and instead of a pair of quick feet coming out, it was a set of legs that stormed outside and began to shout-

"Linx?! Are you there!?"

He froze and every memory of his father coming into his garbage filled room, while he hide under his crammed bed, came to surface.

Survive was the only word he could think as the legs came closer to the truck and inspected it from all sides but one.

"Ro- who are you people and what're you doing near my damn truck?" Jazz's voice dipped down an octave.

"We're looking for our... for someone. His stage name is Roftkal, perhaps you've heard of him?" Remi asked in a worried tone, his voice echoing in the dark alley.

"Only word that I've heard about him is his shit personality and gloomy ass. Now if you don't mind running along, I gotta get home." Jazz pushed past the guys and just as he was about to step into his truck, Linx lightly tapped Jazz's shoe that managed to get under the car.

Jazz froze for a second but got in the car nonetheless.

He started the car and Linx could feel the nerve wrecking vibrations against his back.

"Why are you still here? You morons want to attack me while I'm driving?" Jazz snarled at them, and the three getting them memo that they weren't wanted, went back inside.

Jass released a sigh of relief, glad that his acting was convincing enough for them to bug off and for him to help Roftkal in privacy. If not, he would've probably physically threatened them to make sure Roftkal felt safe.

Jazz hopped out of the car and gave Kal a sideways thumbs up that the coast is clear, quietly whispering, "They're gone, kid. Now get in the truck before they come to check this place again."

He got back in the truck and waited for Kal to get in as well, and he did, ever so slowly with eyes darting everywhere and shaking hands.

Pity filled Jazz as he saw Kal's tear stricken face and dirty clothes from laying on the muddy ground. And by the way Kal only paid attention to the alley as he was putting on his seatbelt, Kal didn't realize tears were still gently rolling down his cheeks.

Poor kid.

Jazz didn't know why those men were after Kal, why he's crying, why Kal asked him for help, but Jazz didn't care for that.

He just cared that Kal was safe, and just maybe, a little more happy.

Jazz drove off, with Kal's silent snores in the background.

_______