Unspoken criticism filled the air as Demaien walked through the curtains and into the backstage area..
His teammates stood waiting, their expressions mixed, some disappointed, some indifferent.
A few offered nods of acknowledgment, but no one spoke right away. The tension lingered.
Damon stepped forward first, meeting Demaien's gaze before shaking his head. "Good match out there," he said, voice steady but unreadable.
Demaien let out a short, bitter laugh, running a hand through his damp hair. "Ahh, I got my ass handed to me there," he admitted, the frustration evident in his tone.
His body still ached from the relentless kicks, the failed takedowns, the sheer gap in experience that had been laid bare under the bright lights.
Before anyone else could respond, the locker room door burst open, slamming against the wall.
Tommy Hughes stormed in like a thundercloud, his face red with barely contained fury.
