WAR
The Journey of Martial

Dark

The adrenaline was still wearing off by the time the WAR officials and security walked me down the hall. My body was crazy sore because Raul Ortega had hit it like a truck. Just thinking about that right hand he dropped me with was still fresh in my mind. They led me to the medical room, which felt even more high-tech than the training facility. That was saying something because the training facility was like something out of those old sci-fi movies that Dad and I used to watch way back when. So, this space felt more like a futuristic lab than anything else. It was super clean, but not like hospital clean. It was just empty. It was like everything had been built into the walls. There weren’t any machines lying around or wires coming out of the walls.

The walls were all smooth and curved. In fact, they were kind of shiny but not reflective. The light didn’t come from anywhere either. It just filled the room evenly, like there weren’t actual lights at all.

The chair automatically adjusted to my body as I sat down, and it started scanning me right away.

“Initiating neurological scan,” the robotic voice told me. 

A blue iridescent light hovered above my head to check for brain trauma. WAR’s advancements in neurology meant that fighters no longer had to worry about long-term damage like Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy or CTE, as they called it. To be honest, that was Mum’s biggest concern when I started training as a kid. Between martial artists and rugby blokes, traumatic brain injuries were just about everywhere. The tech that WAR had developed was groundbreaking. Literal tiny nanobots worked inside my brain to repair any microdamage from the fight.

A holographic display came up in front of me to show me an image of my brain. Red spots were trauma sites. It was kind of scary to look at. I thought about how many times I had taken a blow before I had access to this kind of tech. Clearly, my brain seemed fine and the red spots from that night’s match slowly faded to green as the nanobots did their thing. I felt a bit warm in my head. It was like the fog clearing after a hard night out. Even the headache from Raul's punches started to disappear.

Meanwhile, robotic arms scanned my body. They checked the leg that Raul had hammered with kicks. It was bruised, but nothing too serious. A cool gel was sprayed onto my skin. It numbed the pain. 

“Accelerating recovery,” the voice said this time.

Another arm worked on my knuckles to seal the cuts with a quick spray.

“Treatment complete,” the machine announced and the scanners retracted.

‘Well, all right,’ I thought to myself. 

This was definitely something that I could get used to. It was so fast and efficient. I wished this was available to us during training, though. It was crazy how long we had to take in recovery compared to how fast it was if you were an actual WAR match participant.

I stood up and tested my leg. It still ached, but I was good to go. Thanks to WAR’s tech, I was healing fast.

I was about to head out right as I grabbed my medical report, but a WAR official stepped in.

“Martial,” he said with a professional but friendly tone. “Team New Zealand just finished off Mexico 4-1. Congrats, you set the pace.”

“Wait, we won?” I asked.

I genuinely didn’t know if we would do it. I knew we’d trained hard. I had confidence in us, but the news hit me like the most pleasant surprise I could ever hope for.

“Yes!” he replied to me a little more excitedly than he was meant to. “The press conference is about to start, so we’ll need you there soon. There’s a shower ready for you and your tracksuit’s been cleaned.”

I tipped my head to him, but I was feeling too many things to recount. Relief and exhaustion were definitely pretty high up there. He walked out of the room and the excitement came rushing back in where my headache had been a few minutes ago.

“We won,” I repeated to myself.

Then, the thought of all those flashing lights hit me. The good news was that we’d won, but the thought of facing the press felt like another battle. They were relentless and pretty ruthless even at the best of times. Maybe they’d be nicer, considering we’d just won.

I headed to the shower and it was just as high-tech as the medical bay itself. I didn’t even see a handle or anything. As soon as I stepped in, the glass behind me slid shut on its own. The floor was warm under my feet. It wasn’t scalding. It was just enough that it didn’t feel cold standing there. I let the water wash away the sweat and blood from the fight. It felt like a fresh start and a reset.

After a quick rinse, I slipped into my clean Team New Zealand tracksuit. It felt crisp, but it was also like an armour. Feeling one with the team like this was something indescribable. I felt ready for the next phase of the night.

“All right, Martial,” I said to myself as I looked in the mirror. There were no visible bruises or blood. “Home stretch.”

I was still a little raw, but healed and intact.

As I made my way through the bright and sterile corridors, everything seemed strangely silent. The raucous noise of activity had dulled down. The only sound left was my footsteps echoing down the hall. I thought about what they were going to ask me. I tried to kind of pre-empt the questions and answers. That way, I wouldn’t be stammering for something to say. I don’t think any of them clocked the fact that we were insanely tired (healed or not) after a match like this. My energy levels were on low.

When I arrived at the press conference room, the brightness of the lights hit me first. The next thing was the sight of reporters setting up their gear. It was bigger than I expected and the spotlight was harsh and unforgiving.

I walked to the front and the cameras were already flashing. Whispers turned into low murmurs as I took my seat at the table. I felt every eye in the room on me like they were dissecting me.

“Martial,” a reporter’s voice broke above the rest of the chatter, “congratulations on the win. How did it feel making your debut in WAR 34?”

I took a deep breath in through my nose and tried not to let it seem exaggerated.

“It felt incredible,” were the first words out of my mouth. “The buildup and the pressure were all worth it. Representing Team New Zealand and getting that first win... it’s unreal.”

Another reporter quickly followed up.

“You fought Raul Ortega. He’s a heavy hitter. How did you handle the pressure, especially after that knockdown?”

I leaned into the mic and gripped it tighter. 

“Raul hits like a truck. When he dropped me, the only thing I could focus on was staying calm and keeping my head clear. I knew if I panicked, the fight could slip away. So, I just trusted my training and waited for my moment.”

That was the rehearsed thing to say, so I said it. But to be honest, when you’re in there, you’re not making conscious decisions all the time. Sometimes, sure. But most of the time, it’s pure instinct that’s founded on your training.

The questions kept coming about the fight, about the team, and about what was next. It was exhausting, but no question was tougher than what I had faced on the WAR canvas. I just wanted it to be over. I was so tired that my eyelids started to feel heavy in the way those old-timey cartoons made tiredness look. I would have fallen asleep at the mic if it wasn’t so loud in there.

“One more question,” a reporter said. “You think you can keep this up?”

“I know we can,” I said. 

“Thank you,” I said into the mic and got up.

Once the press conference wrapped up, the noise didn’t die down. They would have followed us right out of that conference room if security had let them. I headed to the Team New Zealand medical room. When I shut the door behind me, there was some silence at last.

But it didn’t last very long.

The moment I turned to face the room, the energy hit me like a wave. There were so many cheers and laughs. I don’t know what was funny, really, but I guess everyone was just excited and all over the place. They were just swallowed up by the feeling of victory. My teammates were celebrating and congratulating me, like I had single-handedly won the tournament. Coach Carter walked over with a rare smile on his face.

“You did good, Martial. Proud of you,” he said as he patted me on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Coach,” I replied.

After what I’d told him about Jessica and me, this felt like a weight had been lifted. She hadn’t so much as talked to me, but my focus in that moment was on this win. I needed this. This is why I came here in the first place. I deserved this moment to celebrate. I had earned it!

With all of the celebration going on, my eyes wandered over to Mason Evans. He was lying on one of the medical beds and still getting checked out after his loss. It wasn’t a KO or TKO, so he wouldn’t face a one-match medical ban, but I could see that the defeat still hung heavy on him. Some of the team members were still standing around him and trying to lift his spirits. It was bitter sweet because it was a victory for all of us, but a tough night for one of our own. I could imagine how I would have felt if I were the only one on the team to take an L.

Then, I saw Jessica. She was standing in the corner. The guilt gnawed at me and I knew I had to make things right, but I was also still angry. Maybe it was my ego that was bruised or just my pride. My father was there for me every step of the way in my life and I could never even fathom the thought of being some type of deadbeat. But by the look on her face, Jessica didn’t want to see me. She was just there because she had to be. 

I walked over to her with the words ready, though.

“Jess, about the other night... I’m sorry—”

But she cut me off before I could even get started.

“You did good, Martial,” she said with her voice flat and her eyes distant. “Well done on the win.”

She didn’t say another word to me. She just turned and walked away. She left me standing there with an apology stuck in my throat and before I could even process it, Liam came up and threw his arm around me.

“Mate, that was incredible! We’ve got to celebrate,” he said as he pulled me back into the team’s excitement.

Coach Flynn’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts pretty quickly.

“Alright, listen up! Great work today, but we’ve got another big match against Team South Africa. You’ve got a couple of days off, but don’t lose focus. Stay sharp and enjoy the break.”

The room was back in cheers at the sound of that. We were ready to take them on. Well, at least I was. It might have been the high of a win talking, but I really felt like we could take this all the way. Coach left us to it and I wanted to find Jessica again, but I couldn’t see where she’d gotten to.

“There’s only one rule in fight club,” Liam joked as he poked me in the ribs.

“What’s that?” I asked. “You don’t talk about fight club?”

“No!” Liam said. “You go to post-fight club.”

“Ahh, Liam,” I groaned. “Really? After the fight? I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

But Liam wouldn’t hear any of it.

“Come on, man,” he said. “You’ve got to unwind after that win.”

As we were getting ready to leave, Tia pulled me aside.

“You sure you don’t want to head back to the hotel?” she asked as her eyes shot toward Jessica.

Before I could respond, Liam appeared again and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“What are you two plotting about?” he laughed as he pulled me back toward the group.

I hesitated and looked over at Jessica, but I didn’t say anything. I just let Liam pull me along with the rest of the team. Before we headed out, they had already sorted us out with clothes down in the medical bay. One of the staff rolled in a rack while we were getting checked over. We had fresh outfits with different styles. They were all laid out like they already knew what we’d want. Shoes were lined up underneath and everything was in duplicates of our sizes.

Liam was the first to jump up.

“Yeah, nah, I’m not leaving here in team gear,” he said as he browsed through shirts.

Niko grabbed a couple off the rack and held them up.

“This one’s you,” he said as he tossed a jacket at me without even asking.

I caught it and looked it over. It would do. Ari didn’t take long. He just picked something and got changed without making a big deal out of it.

One last look back and that was it. Jessica didn’t want to see me anyway, let alone talk to me. I wouldn’t push her, so off we went to the VIP treatment. We were ready to celebrate like champions.

The night was still young as our official fight team, made up of Liam, Niko, Ari, Tia, and me, hit the town after our big win over Team Mexico. In a way, the celebration felt earned. It was like we had cleared a huge hurdle and the energy was through the roof for all of us. Tia wasn’t exactly thrilled about coming along after what had happened earlier, but even she decided to join us.

As we rode through the streets of Fight Island, the lights practically blinded me. It was like nothing I’d seen before and I wondered if it was like this after every big fight. It probably was. We were always just at the training facility when others were going head-to-head. It was something else. The energy in that sprinter van started to pick up the further along we went.

“Bro, you see that guy’s face after you hit him?” Niko said with a laugh. “Man looked like he forgot what sport he was in.”

Liam laughed. 

“Nah, that was you. You were swinging like you were trying to swat flies.”

“At least I landed,” Niko shot back. “At least I had a fight.”

“Please,” Liam said. “WAR only put you in so the other team could feel confident.”

“That’s rubbish and you know it,” Niko laughed. 

Ari sat next to me. He was calm, but you could tell he was proud. He had that confidence that all captains carry. You might think I’m joking, but they have this stoic thing going for them. Maybe they get picked because they have it, or maybe they learn to be that way after they’re picked. I don’t know, but it made everything feel stable, like nothing could really go wrong.

Tia was the opposite. She stayed quiet the whole time and stared out the window with her arms folded tightly across her chest. She looked like an angry human pretzel. I didn’t know whether to laugh or hide away from her.

I knew why she was angry, though.

Things between us earlier had been awkward and she clearly wasn’t in the mood to celebrate like everyone else. She and Jessica had been close for a while, so I assumed she hadn’t heard the best things about me recently.

As the van glided smoothly through the neon-lit streets of Fight Island, I tried to focus on where we were going. After a while, I actually managed to get my brain going along with the vibe again and the excitement rushed back in. You could feel it in the air. The adrenaline from the fight was still flowing through us and getting all mixed up with the anticipation of what the night had in store.

As we got closer to East Fight Island Nightclub, you could already see the madness. There were lights and people everywhere. Literal bodies were bumping into one another. Cars pulled up one after another. It was the type of place that everyone talks about, but you never really expect to walk into yourself. I had on a black jacket and clean sneakers. Liam and Niko went all out with designer shirts. They looked like they cared way more than they’d admit. Ari kept it simple but still sharp. It suited him.

Tia looked good. No way around it. She had on a fitted dress. It wasn’t anything flashy, though. She still wasn’t in a great mood. You could tell. She kept to herself and didn’t really say much.

When we pulled up, the line outside was crazy. It wrapped around the block. People were waiting and trying to get in.

We didn’t.

The bouncer saw us and said something into his earpiece. Then, he just waved us straight through. There were no questions. As we got out the van, cameras started going off. A few people turned and whispered. I have to tell you that I still wasn’t used to that. It felt strange. Like we’d suddenly been dropped into something bigger than just going out for the night.

“Damn, we’re getting the royal treatment,” Liam said with a grin as he soaked up the attention.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Ari said as he clapped him on the back. “We earned this.”

As we walked into the club, it was like stepping into another world. The music thumped in my chest, the lights flashed in all of these patterns, and everywhere you looked, there were familiar faces. Fighters from all over the world were in there. Then, I saw the musicians, actors, and athletes. That’s when I realised that I might just be like them. I was on their level now. That feeling is like nothing I can describe. One thing I’ll tell you for sure is that it’s a feeling you never want to lose.  Everyone who was someone was there. I spotted a few WAR fighters from other teams, like Robert Graham and Lilly Ryan from Team Canada. Even some members of Team Russia and Team France were scattered across the VIP sections.

The club promoter greeted us with the biggest veneered smile I had ever seen.

“Hey, there they are,” he said as he stepped up with his hands out like he’d known us for years. “Big night, yeah? Hell of a performance out there.”

He looked each of us up and down quickly while still smiling.

“You boys just made this place ten times better,” he said. Then, he turned slightly and gestured inside. “Come through, come through. We’ve got your table ready. No stress. Drinks are on me to start.”

The place was packed, but somehow, we had the best seats in the house. As we walked into the roped-off area, a round of bottles and other gifts were brought to our table. The promoter made sure we felt like royalty for the night.

“Anything you want, just say the word,” the promoter said. “This is your night, Team New Zealand!”

It sure was.

We settled into the plush couches and the champagne started flowing freely. That’s when the ladies walked in. There were waves of beautiful women that just strolled in and out of the VIP section like they were meant to be there. None of us were complaining, though. We were surrounded by them. Just flirting and laughing was all it was. They were taking shots with the guys and the atmosphere was just wild. I’d never experienced anything like it before. I mean, I had partied. We all had. But this was next level. People were coming up to us left and right whenever we walked out of the designated area. Some of the celebs actually wandered over to us, too, and congratulated us on the win. I could seriously name-drop for days. They offered us drinks and actually wanted pictures with us. It was crazy, but in the best way possible.

One of the women broke away from the group and walked straight over to me.

She was hard to miss. She had dark hair. It was silky smooth and straight, and fell over one shoulder. Her makeup was clean but sharp. Her eyes were locked in, like she’d already decided something. She had this slight smile on her face, too.

She held out a shot toward me.

“Come on, champ,” she said and sounded a bit teasing. “Let’s see if you handle this better than Raul Ortega.”

I let out a short laugh and took it from her.

“That’s low,” I said as I shook my head.

“Mm,” she shrugged. “You’ll survive.”

I knocked the shot back before I could think about it too much. It burned going down, but in a good way. It took the edge off everything still sitting in my body.

She grabbed my wrist straight after.

“Good,” she said. “Now come.”

Next thing I knew, she was pulling me through the crowd and onto the dance floor. A couple of her friends followed us. They were already laughing and moving to the music. The bass shot through me even harder in the middle of the floor. You could feel it in your chest. The lights were flashing overhead and it was trance-like. Blue, red, white, yellow and then back to blue again. Faces would light up and then disappear again.

I didn’t even think about it. I just moved.

At first, it felt a bit off and like I wasn’t fully there yet. Then everything started kicking in. Everything just lined up and people around us started noticing.

“Yo, that’s him—”

“Champ!”

A few voices called out to me and someone clapped. Then more joined in and it spread quick.

“Let’s go!” someone shouted.

I couldn’t help but grin. It got loud fast and people were hyping her and me up more than they probably should have. She was giggling and dancing. I didn’t even notice that everyone had their phones out and heads turning.

For a moment, it felt unreal. It was like the whole place was watching and like I actually belonged there. The brunette stayed close the whole time. She just moved with me and matched everything. Then she got a bit closer to the point where there was no space between us. Her hand came up to my chest for a second and I looked down at her. She didn’t look away.

Then, she leaned in without saying anything and kissed me.

For a split second, I let it happen. The energy and the crowd really pumped up the moment and it all blurred together. But before I could even react, Tia appeared out of nowhere and pulled the girl away. Her eyes were practically blazing with anger.

“He’s taken,” Tia said.

She didn’t yell it or anything, although her voice was low but fierce. She stared that girl down with a look that could kill.

The girl backed off immediately. I could tell that she was intimidated by Tia’s intensity. I stood there and tried to process what had just happened. The crowd kept dancing around us. They were so oblivious to the sudden tension.

“What are you doing, Tia?” I snapped and pulled her aside. “Why’d you do that?”

Tia glared at me with her fists clenched at her sides.

“Are you crazy, Martial? Your girlfriend is back at the hotel, pregnant, and you’re out here partying with these girls like none of that matters.”

My blood ran cold. I hadn’t thought about Jessica in that moment. Well, not like that and not with everything going on tonight. The guilt hit me like a freight train, but I wasn’t about to let Tia call me out like this, especially not here and not now.

“How do you even know about that?” I demanded as my voice rose above the music.

Tia crossed her arms and kept her expression hard.

“I’m a Super Bantamweight—we talk.”

“You talk?” I said.

“She’s been staying in my room since your fallout. You think a pregnant girl is just going to sit through that with no one to talk to? That’s isolating. That’s crazy. That’s unhealthy for both of them!”

Before I could say anything else, Liam showed up again. He kept doing that and I didn’t know if it was because he wanted me around or if he just wanted a shot at Tia. Wherever she was, he showed up. Maybe it was both. Anyway, his arm wrapped around my shoulder again and he just grinned like a fool.

“What are you two whispering about over here? Come on, we’re celebrating!” he insisted.

But Tia wasn’t done feeling angry on behalf of her friend. She shook her head and got louder than the noise in the club.

“I’m done. I’m going back to the hotel,” she said.

She turned and stormed off. Ari, who noticed the commotion, called after her.

“Tia, where are you going?”

He reached for her arm and tried to stop her from leaving, but Tia yanked her arm free and threw a glance over her shoulder, directly at me.

“I’m going back to the hotel,” she said. “Some of us have our priorities straight,”

She marched out of the club without another word.

Ari turned to me with his brow furrowed. He looked more confused than anyone else.

“What was that all about?”

I shrugged and tried to brush it off.

“Nothing, man. Just let her cool off,” I replied.

Ari gave me a look like he didn’t buy it, but thankfully, he didn’t press. I was too deep into the night and too far gone to think straight. We headed back to the VIP, but I could feel the anxiety of what had just happened taking over me. I hated that feeling. It was like shame and frustration all wrapped up in one thing.

The night carried on, but I wasn’t really there anymore. I was drinking, sure, but that was it. I was just taking shots, stumbling around, and acting like I was still having the time of my life. Operative word here being “acting.” In reality, I was starting to lose track of everything. The lights were too bright and the music was too loud. The drinks were hitting me harder than I expected. I felt disconnected from it all, like I was watching myself from the outside.

At some point, the promoter handed Ari the microphone. I had no idea what for or why that had even become a point of conversation, but he did. The club quieted down and all eyes were on our captain as he stepped forward to make a speech. I staggered over to him and tried to get closer, but my head was swimming. My legs were like jelly, but I didn’t care.

“Ari! Let me say something!” I slurred as I reached for the mic.

Ari shot me a look and I couldn’t even see that his patience was clearly wearing thin.

“Chill out, Martial. Let me handle this,” he said.

But I wasn’t listening. I grabbed for the mic and slurred into it. I didn’t stop to think that I was making a fool of myself in front of the entire club. Who does when they’re that wasted, anyway? The crowd wasn’t sure how to react. Some laughed, but others looked confused. I can’t even remember what I said into that mic. Liam must have seen the disaster unfolding because he stepped in quickly and pulled me away.

“Come on, bro, you’re out of control,” he whispered harshly as he dragged me back to the table.

But it was too late. The night was already slipping away from me. I could barely keep my eyes open, let alone stand straight. Everything felt like a blur. It was all too much. I thought I heard someone shouting, but I think it might have been me. I can’t be sure.

The next thing I knew, I was being bundled into the sprinter van by Liam and Niko. I remember my body feeling limp and my mind barely registering what was happening. The van was quiet now. The high of the night faded around me as reality set in. Liam sat next to me with his arm around my shoulder to keep me from swaying too much.

“Just relax, man,” he said softly. “We’re almost back.”

‘Almost back?’ I thought. ‘I didn’t even feel this thing moving.’

That thought alone made me queasy. I thought I might throw up and by the time we reached the hotel, I could barely walk. Liam had to half-carry me down the hallway. His voice was a murmur in my ear.

“You’ll be alright. Just get some rest. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

I collapsed onto my bed and the room started spinning around me. Liam’s words echoed in my head as I drifted off and the night finally started catching up to me.

Tomorrow was a new day, but I had no idea how I was going to face it.

Then, I blacked out.

The sound of knocking is what broke through the fog of my hangover. At first, I tried to ignore it and I buried my face into the pillow, but the pounding only got louder. My body felt like dead weight and my head was throbbing like a drum. Every inch of me ached and I knew that it wasn’t just from the fight, but from the alcohol I’d drowned myself in the night before.

“Martial, I know you’re in there,” a female voice called from outside my door. I was still out of it, so I couldn’t make out who it was. “Come on, we need to talk.”

I groaned and rolled over. I couldn’t remember much after the club last night, but I could feel every terrible decision I made in the way my body was rebelling. My mouth was dry and my stomach churned. I tried to process who was at the door because I wasn’t sure I was ready to deal with anyone.

“It’s my day off,” I mumbled and hoped she’d get the message and leave, whoever she was.

But no, she kept knocking relentlessly.

“Please, Martial. We really need to talk.”

I forced myself to sit up and the room spun as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. My body screamed in protest. It took all of my strength to push myself upright and shuffle toward the door. I yanked it open and looked out.

Florence stood there with a smug smile on her face.

“Miss me?” she said.

I stared at her for a second because my brain was still a little fuzzy. Then, without a word, I slammed the door in her face. I couldn’t deal with that right then.

But she didn’t give up. The knocking carried on and louder this time.

“Come on, Martial. I really need to talk to you.”

I groaned again, but after a minute, I gave in. I unlocked the door and pulled it open. Florence stood there just like before, but looking a little less sure of herself this time.

“Look, I’m sorry about the James Maverick show,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean for it to go down like that. I just… I need help, okay? I can’t afford to screw up with another fighter. Please, I’m asking for one more chance.”

I rubbed my temples and felt the headache intensify.

“Florence, I’m not sure this is going to work out.”

“I know, I know,” she said quickly. “But you need to hear this. Since last night, you hit a million followers on SocialX. You’ve gone viral, Martial.”

Her words sliced through the fog in my brain. A million? That couldn’t be right. I had 34,000 followers on SocialX, max. 

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

Florence reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. She showed me the screen.

“This is you,” she said softly.

I stared at the screen in disbelief. My profile showed a massive jump in followers. It didn’t make sense.

“How?”

She shrugged.

“You’re everywhere. That knockout… you’re all over social media, Martial. People love you.”

I was still processing the number when she added, “Look, I know you don’t like this side of things, but if you let me help, I can make sure you get the recognition you deserve. You just focus on fighting and I’ll handle the rest.”

I wasn’t all that sure about her suggestion, but that had a lot to do with what I was still feeling from the night before. I wasn’t in the mood for another headache, but maybe Florence had a point. If the spotlight was already on me, I couldn’t just ignore it.

“Okay,” I muttered and rubbed my eyes. “But this is your last shot.”

She beamed and I could kind of see relief washing over her.

“You won’t regret it, Martial. I promise.”

After she left, I slumped back into my room. I chugged a bottle of water and tried to shake the headache. Then, I dragged myself to the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and the minty freshness gave me some relief. Then, I took a long, hot shower. The steam helped clear my head a little, but the lingering ache from both the fight and the hangover wouldn’t leave that easily.

When I got out and got dressed, I chugged down more water. My mouth was dry like I’d swallowed sandpaper. Every gulp felt like it barely made a dent in the dehydration.

I needed to eat something solid to soak everything up in my gut. Maybe a proper breakfast would help me snap out of it. As I left my room and made my way through the Team New Zealand Training Facility, the pounding in my head refused to let up. My steps felt like they made it worse and every noise was on level one thousand with the ache behind my eyes.

I made a beeline for the cafeteria, but as soon as I walked in, I felt something in the air. The women’s Super Flyweights and Super Bantamweights were already there. They were sitting together at a long table and I had clearly walked in mid-conversation. All six of them, including Jessica, turned to look at me with matching, vicious expressions. Their glares hit me like a punch in the gut and my stomach twisted. I knew what this was about. I wasn’t ready for it. Not today.

I changed my course immediately. I turned on my heel and headed in the opposite direction. Now was not the time for confrontations, especially with Jessica. I needed some space to clear my head and this headache wasn’t helping.

‘Maybe a walk will do me some good,’ I thought. ‘It will at least get me out of the suffocating tension in here.’

The sun greeted me warmly as I stepped outside. Fight Island looked beautiful. There was nothing but blue skies and a slight breeze. It was a perfect day for anything but dealing with personal drama. I walked and I thought about where to go for only a split second before I gave up and just walked aimlessly. As I passed by restaurants and open-air cafes, I noticed people turning their heads and whispering to each other.

“Great fight last night, Wilson!” one passerby called out as they raised their hand in a friendly wave.

I waved back and gave them a polite smile, but my mind was still stuck in a haze. I kept walking with my eyes scanning the street. That’s when I saw a massive hologram screen projected high above one of the bustling restaurants. It was replaying highlights from the previous night’s fight. My fight.

The image on the screen changed to a still photo of me, mid-punch, with Raul Ortega reeling back. Below it, bold letters flashed: Fighter of the Night: Martial Wilson

I stopped dead in my tracks and genuinely blinked in surprise. Fighter of the Night? I hadn’t even checked social media or any news since the fight. This was unreal. I wasn’t used to seeing my face plastered across giant screens like some kind of celebrity. Sure, I knew I’d done well, but Fighter of the Night?

As I kept walking, more people approached me. Some clapped me on the back and others offered handshakes. They were all throwing compliments my way.

“Man, you killed it out there!”

“Wilson, that was insane! You’re a beast!”

“That KO was legendary!”

I mumbled quick thanks and really tried to take it all in, but it felt strange. It was surreal, like I was walking through someone else’s life. I was pretty irritated with myself that I had made such a fool out of myself the night before, so much so that I couldn’t enjoy this moment. I should have been enjoying it. I shouldn’t have been worrying about a pregnant girlfriend or a drunken mistake. I should be in the zone. I should be fresh and happy. It ticked me off.

Eventually, I found a fancy brunch spot tucked into a quiet corner of the street. It was upscale. I could see that it was the kind of place where people came to relax or sip their coffee and talk business. Exactly what I needed right now. It was a place to sit, eat, and process everything.

I walked in and found the quiet chatter instantly soothing. As I made my way to a table, the waitress greeted me with a smile that hinted she recognised me immediately.

“Can I get you anything, Mr. Wilson?” she asked.

‘Mr. Wilson?’ I thought. 

There it was again. My name. Everyone seemed to know it today.

“Uh, yeah, just some coffee and whatever breakfast special you have,” I mumbled. I was still a little out of it before I added, “Please.”

She nodded and jotted it down before walking away, but even as I sat there, fans trickled in. Some waved from across the room. Others approached my table to offer a quick word of praise.

“That was a great fight, man.”

“You’re gonna go far, Wilson.”

The day before, I had just been another fighter trying to get noticed. Now people were looking at me like they already knew who I was. I sat there and waited for my food as I watched everyone move around. Everything was so different now. It was instant. I just knew there was no going back to the time before.

People asked for photos and my autograph. I said yes to all of it, but it started piling up. There were so many smiles and phones in my face. It was a lot.

By the time the food finally showed up, I was starving, but I barely had a second to touch it before my phone buzzed. It was Mum. I smiled as soon as I saw her name and picked up because I already knew what was coming. I could hear the noise on her end before she even said anything.

“Mum?” I answered groggily.

I thought I’d be hit with a quick hello, but instead, her voice exploded through the phone.

“Martial! Oh my God, you did it! You were incredible!”

I could practically feel her beaming. I could hear that she was surrounded by friends, family, and probably half of Auckland.

“We watched your fight at the main venue. Everyone was cheering! I’m so proud of you!”

I couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t often I got to hear that kind of excitement in her voice.

“Thanks, Mum. I’m just resting up. Last night was a lot.”

“Resting?” she laughed. “After a performance like that? I don’t blame you! But you were amazing, son. You’ve made everyone here so proud.”

Hearing that warmed me more than any of the praise I got from fans or WAR staff. I could picture her all huddled with the crowd at the venue and watching the highlights of my fight. The pride in her voice made everything feel worth it.

“I’m good, Mum,” I said as I squirmed slightly in my chair. “Just a bit sore, but I’m fine. The WAR medical team patched me up real quick.”

She let out a small sigh of relief.

“Good, good. Take care of yourself, okay? You’re on top of the world right now, but don’t push too hard.”

“I won’t.”

“Okay, well, I’ll leave you to it. We’ll chat later, okay?”

“Ok, Mum. Love you.”

“Love you too, son. Get some rest.”

The line went quiet, but I sat there for a second longer and just let her words sink in. After the chaos of the previous night, hearing my mum’s voice was exactly what I needed. I ate up as fast as I could. I wanted to get out of the swarm for a while.

I waved for the bill, but the waitress flashed me a smile and shook her head.

“No need. WAR’s covering it. You’re all set.”

“Right…” I mumbled.

It was going to take me a while before I got used to this kind of treatment. I got up and left the restaurant before I stepped back into the sun.

I stood up, stretched, and made my way back toward the Team New Zealand training facility. I felt a little more like myself again.

As I neared the entrance, I spotted a familiar figure standing by the doors. It was Tama Rangi, the original Super Welterweight for Team New Zealand before his ACL injury. He hadn’t been around much since then. He’d been focusing on his rehab and recovery, so seeing him now was a surprise.

“Tama?” I called out and walked over.

He grinned when he saw me.

“Martial, my man! Well done, brother.”

“Thanks, bro,” I replied. I was grateful for the familiarity between us. “How’s the knee? Haven’t seen you around much.”

“Finished physio last week,” Tama said as he tapped his knee. “It’s getting stronger every day. Still got some work to do, but I’ll be back in action soon enough.”

“Good to hear,” I said. I was genuinely happy for him. Tama had been a crucial part of the team before his injury and we all missed having him in the lineup.

“You keep holding it down for us in the meantime,” he added with a wink. “You’re killing it out there. Everyone’s talking about that KO last night.”

I smiled, but deep down, I still felt sad and anxious. Everything with Jessica and the press made me feel awful. Even with the sudden surge of attention, I just wasn’t feeling it. Maybe I just had the morning-after scaries or whatever they call them. Drinker’s remorse. I’d freshen up, or at least I hoped so.

“Just trying to do my part,” I said modestly.

Tama clapped me on the back.

“You’re doing more than that, bro. Keep it up.”

We said our goodbyes, and I headed inside. I felt like the adrenaline from last night was finally wearing off. My body ached and my head still throbbed, but I was levelling off. All I wanted was to crash.

I stumbled back into my room and started to feel sick as I walked. I was sweating out last night’s liquor and I hated it. I felt so much better when I got in my room and kicked off my shoes right by the door. The soft carpeted entryway was so comfortable on my aching feet. I collapsed onto the bed instantly and let everything catch up to me. Within seconds, I was out cold.

After an hour of sleep, I still couldn’t shake the guilt that had been eating away at me. It hung around like a bad smell. I knew I had to talk to Jessica. I had to apologise and make things right. So, I dragged myself out of bed, threw on a fresh shirt, and made my way to the elevator. If you’ve ever done something as gloriously stupid as I had, then you’ll know how everything slows down. In fact, the ride down felt longer than usual and my mind was spinning with what I would say when I saw her.

Should I start by apologising?

Maybe I should just let her talk first.

I stepped off the elevator and walked the few paces to her room. I just stood there. I was psyching myself up as best as I could, but I really thought I might just turn back. What if she didn’t want to see me?

‘Of course, she doesn’t, you idiot,’ I thought to myself. ‘You let her down and then you kissed another girl in front of everyone. She probably hates you.’

What if I made things worse by talking to her?

Still, I had to do something, so I raised my fist to knock.

Before my knuckles could even make contact, I heard someone approaching. I turned to see Sarah Roberts, one of the women’s Super Flyweights, standing in the hallway. She looked at me with a mixture of concern and what I think was maybe a bit of disappointment.

“She’s not here, Martial,” Sarah said quietly as she folded her arms across her chest.

I let my hand fall.

“Where is she?”

“She’s with Tia, in her room,” she replied as she looked down the hall toward where Tia’s room was.

I remembered what Tia had said the night before. I had completely forgotten about it right up until that point.

I sighed.

“I should go talk to her then,” I said.

But before I could take a step in that direction, Sarah shook her head.

“No. Just… give her some space.”

I frowned. I felt confused and frustrated.

“I need to apologise. I messed up.”

“Martial, I’ll tell her you’re sorry. But right now, she needs time. Maybe when the old Martial comes back, she’ll feel like talking to you.”

I was completely thrown for a loop.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Sarah sighed again and leaned against the wall. Her face softened up a bit as she looked at me.

“You’ve changed, Martial. She’s not the only one who’s noticed it. We all have. You’re not the same guy from the Fight Academy. You used to be… sweet and kind. You were always there for everyone. But now, it’s like you’re distant. You’re always stressed and you don’t smile the way you used to.”

‘Maybe because I am stressed. My girl’s going to have a baby,’ I thought to myself.

But I got what she was saying. Still, I stood there and stayed silent. Her words took me harder than I think even she expected.

‘Am I really that different?’

“Don’t get me wrong,” she added quickly. “You did amazing in the fight. You’re a great fighter. But there’s more to you than just that. Don’t lose yourself in this.”

I swallowed hard and felt my throat suddenly go dry.

“I’m not trying to… I just—”

“I know,” she cut in gently. “I know you’re under a lot of pressure. But give her some time, okay? Let her come to you.”

I nodded slowly because I wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Just… tell her I’m sorry. And that I want to talk.”

Sarah gave me a small and understanding smile.

“I will.”

That was it.

I turned around and headed back toward the elevator. Each step felt more painful than the last, both physically and mentally. Sarah’s words played out in my head again. Was I really becoming someone else? Someone I didn’t even recognise?

I thought about it as I stepped into the elevator. As the doors closed, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was slowly losing pieces of myself.