Marcus sat in the passenger seat of his dad's car, his muscles still humming from the fight. The noise of the crowd, the energy in the ring, and the thrill of knocking out Leo Jaxon played on a loop in his mind. The adrenaline had ebbed, but the victory's glow lingered. As they pulled into the parking lot of "The Golden Spoon," a quaint family-owned restaurant they frequented for special occasions, Marcus smiled. His family had stood by him through every step, and tonight, they deserved this celebration as much as he did.
Inside, the aroma of warm bread and savory dishes filled the air as they were greeted by the hostess. Angela Reed beamed with pride, her usual bluntness softened by the warmth of her smile. Trevor carried Zachary in his arms, while Ron walked quietly beside Marcus, a nod of approval all he needed to give to express his pride. They were all here. Marcus knew that their unwavering support had been the foundation of his success.
They were seated at a booth near the back. As the waitress handed them menus, the chatter around the table centered on the fight, mostly coming from Angela, who had been vocal during the match. "You should've seen your aunt, Marcus," she said between laughs. "I swear, she was ready to climb into the ring with you!"
Marcus chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, I heard her a couple of times between rounds."
Zachary, still filled with energy, began shadowboxing near the table, imitating the moves he'd seen his uncle perform. "Pow! Pow!" he exclaimed, throwing punches into the air. Marcus leaned over, ruffling his hair. "Careful, buddy, or you'll knock me out next."
The lighthearted banter brought a sense of normalcy after the intensity of the fight. But beneath Marcus's smile, there was a simmering thought, a new awareness—this was just the beginning. With two amateur victories under his belt, he had momentum now. The question that lingered was: how far could he take it?
Their conversation flowed easily as they ordered, sharing memories and teasing each other. Trevor, though, was quieter than usual. Marcus could sense his brother still wrestling with the weight of his past mistakes. Their dynamic had shifted since the resolution of the debt crisis, but there was still a lot left unspoken. He noticed Trevor's gaze drift to Zachary, the kid none of them would let down.
Halfway through their meal, as dessert was being served, Marcus excused himself to use the restroom. On his way back to the table, he noticed a man standing near their booth, dressed sharply in a dark suit, casually leaning against the wall. His posture was relaxed, but there was a certain confidence about him, something that set him apart from the regular diners.
As Marcus approached, the man's eyes lit up. "Marcus Reed, right?" he asked, extending a hand before Marcus could respond. "Great fight tonight. You've got a real future ahead of you."
Surprised, Marcus shook the man's hand. "Uh, thanks. You were there?"
The man nodded, pulling out a business card from his jacket pocket. "I don't miss local fights, especially when there's potential in the ring. I'm Roy Johnson," he said with a smile, "but most people in the boxing world call me just 'Johnson.' I manage fighters."
Marcus felt a twinge of excitement ripple through him. He'd heard about guys like this—promoters, managers, the people who could elevate a fighter from the local scene to something bigger. But he hadn't expected to cross paths with one this soon.
"Congratulations on the win," Johnsoncontinued. "Knocking out Jaxon like that? That's no small feat. Kid's got a tough chin, and you dropped him clean." He paused, lowering his voice. "But I think you're ready for more than the local scene, Marcus. A lot more."
Marcus's stomach fluttered. "What do you mean?"
Johnson glanced at the table, noticing Marcus's family watching curiously. He gave a polite nod toward Ron and Angela before returning his gaze to Marcus. "I'm putting together the fight card for a pay-per-view event next month. A couple of well-known fighters, but there's room for a strong opener—someone who can stir the crowd. You're not gonna be headlining, but it's a professional fight. A real one. You'll be on TV. Decent purse, too. $5,000 to the winner."
Marcus's heart skipped a beat. $5,000. Real TV exposure. This wasn't just an amateur bout in a dingy local gym. This was an opportunity to show what he was really made of, to step onto a bigger stage.
"Pay-per-view?" Marcus said, his voice filled with equal parts excitement and uncertainty. "That's a whole new level."
"It is," Johnson agreed. "And it's a big jump. But from what I saw tonight, you've got what it takes. You'll need to train harder, cut back on distractions... and maybe take a look at your future. Balancing school and boxing? You might have to make some tough choices soon."
Marcus's mind raced. He glanced back at his family, still seated and watching him with eager eyes. He felt a rush of excitement, but Johnson words echoed louder in his head: tough choices. School had always been important to Marcus—education was the path his parents had laid out for him. But standing here, being offered a professional fight, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was his calling. A part of him had always known boxing wasn't just a hobby. It was becoming something more.
"I'll give you a week to think about it," Johnson said, handing Marcus his card. "Call me if you're in. But just so you know, opportunities like this don't come around often. You've got the talent, Marcus. Don't let it go to waste."
Marcus nodded, slipping the card into his pocket. "Thanks. I'll think about it."
Johnson gave him a knowing smile and a pat on the shoulder. "I hope to see you in the ring soon."
As the man walked away, Marcus returned to the table, trying to calm the rush of adrenaline surging through him. He sat back down, feeling all eyes on him.
"What was that about?" Trevor asked, raising an eyebrow.
Marcus glanced at his brother, then at his parents. "He's a fight promoter. Offered me a spot on a pay-per-view card next month."
The table fell silent. Ron's expression was calm but contemplative. Angela looked somewhere between astonishment and pride. Trevor simply stared.
"And?" Trevor finally asked, breaking the silence. "What did you say?"
"I said I'd think about it."
Ron was the first to speak after that. "It's a big step, son. But this is what you've been working for, isn't it?"
Marcus nodded slowly, the weight of the decision settling in. "Yeah. But it's a lot to take in. I mean... school, training for a fight like that. It's..."
Angela interjected, her voice firm but caring. "You'll figure it out. But whatever you do, just make sure it's what you really want. You can't do both if your heart's not in either."
Marcus leaned back in his seat, feeling the gravity of her words. The excitement of the offer was undeniable, but the reality was that he might have to make a choice. A real choice.
Trevor leaned forward, his tone softer than usual. "You've got a gift, Marcus. You've worked your ass off for this, but don't rush it. Take the time to think it through."
Marcus nodded, appreciating the advice from his brother. This wasn't just about the next fight—it was about everything that would come after. For the first time, the future felt closer than ever.
As the night went on, Marcus remained quiet, the card in his pocket a constant reminder of the decision ahead.