Favor walked into the boxing club. The thought of visiting such a place during such late hours was revolting; she enjoyed the prospect. Walking past the rusty metal wrought iron doors, she felt as if she were thrust into a sauna filled with rancid sweat. The echoing sounds of feet shuffling and the smacking noises suffocated her despite the whirling buzz of the circulation fans above. As the men punched bags, she noticed the men's faces did not look like the distinguished gentlemen she's used to dealing with, but rather a prison gang serving unspeakable crimes.

She stood out, insulting the scene in front of her. Her dress--the color of soft pink, too expensive and too simple, it's soft contours tracing the lines of her body only exaggerating the fragility of her slenderness. Her thin heels barely penetrated soft dents into the gym mats. Her eyes roamed, looking for the dealer that agreed to meet her here. Blinking once, her vision halted to a guy who turned around and looked at her. 

Favor stood still, her perception of him was not of sight, but of touch. His stare gave her a slap in the face. She held one arm up awkwardly- moving it in motion, however she knew she could not move until he permitted her to. It was if she was pressed up against an invisible wall.

His mouth was firm in silent contempt; the jagged planes of his jawline were solid and harsh. The cold, pure luminance of his eyes showed no trace of pity or warmth. It was the most startling and beautiful face she would ever see, not because of traditional beauty, but because it was the abstraction of strength shown visibly. He stood looking at her with no sense of caring or decency. She felt anger, one of protest, resistance, and even a hint of pleasure. This was no glance, it was an act of ownership. Her mind raced with the idea of staring back at him, giving that answer he deserved in that brief infinity of a moment. Instead she stared at his wet t-shirt that clung to his chest, and the sweat pouring from his shoulders. 

" Oh Miss Favor! How do you do?" her liason calls out interrupting her thoughts, " How is Godfather Premier doing? Congratulations on your new title! I must give my gratitude for the last... donation that his Don's men has bestowed to our business."

She hoped his words were caught by the that man that just stared at her. She finally decided her title and position was put to good use. She forced herself to feel better from those questions.

" He's probably just some lowly thug anyways," she comforted herself bitterly.

Favor exited the training area into one of the back offices, completing their drug exchange after the liason flicked the venetian blinds closed. As she exited the office, she walked passed the man again, this time he was too close. Once again, he stood staring straight at her, he gaze unwaivered. The stare was offensively intimate because they never spoke a word to each other. She destroyed it by speaking to him. 

"Why must you always stare at me?" she asked sharply.

She thought with relief that it was the best means of detachment. She had denied everything they both knew by naming it. For a moment, he stood silently, looking at her. She felt terror at the thought that he would not answer, that he would let his silence tell her too clearly why no answer was necessary. But he answered. He said calmly:

"Same reason you've been staring at me."

"I don't know what you're even talking about."

"If you didn't, you'd be much more astonished and less angry, Miss Favor."

He turned, looking for someone among the men training. He asked: "Shall I call the security or the manager for you?"

She smiled mockingly.

"No, of course not. It would be too simple. But since you know who I am, it would be better if you stopped looking at me when I come here. It might be misunderstood."

"I don't think so."

She turned away. She had to control her voice. She looked over to two men training in the ring.

She asked: "Do you find it very hard train here?"

"Yes. Terribly."

"Do you get tired?"

"Inhumanly."

"How does that feel?"

"I can hardly walk when the day's ended. I can't move my arms at night. When I lie in bed, I can count every muscle in my body to the number of separate, different pains."

She knew suddenly that he was not telling her about himself; he was speaking of her, he was saying the things she wanted to hear and telling her that he knew why she wanted to hear these particular sentences.

She felt anger, a satisfying anger because it was cold and certain. He understood her. Favor said nothing more and walked out of the building. 

An excellent read Miss Favor I hope to see many more tales from you soon

He was just finishing up his bag work when the air changed almost imperceptibly. Something feminine now mixed in with the all the dude sweat. Only a couple kinds of women would walk into the joint at this late hour, and the paid kinds were smart enough to stay away. Al turned around expecting to see a suit with an attractive escort. Instead he saw an attractive suit. He could tell immediately that she was somebody. His eyes narrowed as he saw she was unprotected. The late night crowd in the gym was the late night crowd for a reason, most couldn't risk daylight. He stared straight at her, knowing every man in the place would see it, process it, and realize death awaited the foolish. It also made her uncomfortable, almost paralyzed, which he enjoyed immensely. Her contact called out to her, giving away any pretense of anonymity. 'She is in a godfather's crew, small world.' Al thought. 'She probably figures me for a lowlife.' Al turned to his men.

"Anyone follows her, anything sounds funny, you guys take care of it."

She returned unharmed. Al continued to stare at her. Surely she knew the dangerous place she was in. But no, instead she confronted him. She feigned ignorance about why they each stared at the other in near contempt. He for her foolishness, her for her own erroneous view of his motives. She mocked his offer of security and demanded he stop staring at her for appearances sake. The suddenly she changed, asked him some real questions about training. He gave her real answers. She seemed oddly satisfied, then angry. As she left the building Al shook his head and looked around.

"You know I never understood women, and I understand that one least of all."

He turns and start punching the bag again.

w00t! Brav bravo! Throwns roses onto the stage. Cant wait for more!

great one really o/