After everything that happened, Oscar headed to his apartment, walking alone through the streets. Each step echoed in his mind like an echo of the confusion and anger that still accompanied him. Upon arriving, he let out a deep sigh as he closed the door behind him.
It was already mid-afternoon. With a slight tremor in his hands, he grabbed his phone and decided to call his representative. It was time to share at least one good news.
—Hello, Oscar, what's going on? David asked in his usual tone.
-Hi David. I'm calling to tell you that I got the job at the club. I start tomorrow night.
-Oh really? This is great news, Oscar! —David responded, clearly excited—. Keep it up, remember that this is only until your case goes unnoticed. Then you'll get back to the fights, as you deserve!
-Of course. Well, David, I'll leave you. I'm going to bed. Today was an overwhelming and tiring day.
He hung up the phone and fell onto the bed, feeling the weight of the day slowly slip from his shoulders. However, his thoughts returned to Miranda; Many questions swirled in his mind like a whirlwind. I wanted to delve deeper into everything that had happened and understand what was behind that connection that I couldn't ignore.
At least he had the peace of mind of knowing that he would see her again at the club tomorrow. But would it be enough to clear up your doubts?
Oscar decided to stop overthinking things and let himself be carried away by fatigue, closing his eyes until sleep enveloped him. When he finally woke up, it was already a little late. He stood up, stretched, and began to prepare for his new day.
With renewed energy, he decided to go for a run around the city. As he ran, he felt like each step connected him more to the vibrancy of the urban life around him. He could not afford to lose condition in this new environment; Every mile was a reminder of his purpose.
Upon reaching a park, he stopped and began to do some exercises. The fresh air filled his lungs and gave him a feeling of mental clarity.
"I feel better," he said to himself, putting his water bottle in his backpack. I needed this training. I can't lose condition. I must prepare to fight again soon.
As he wiped the sweat from his brow, he reflected on what "preparing" really meant. It wasn't just about being physically ready for fights; It was also a time to strengthen his mind and find clarity amidst the emotional chaos he had experienced lately.
After a hard workout, Oscar returned to his apartment, feeling tired in every muscle. He stepped into the cold shower, the ice water hitting his skin helping him relax those sore muscles and clear his mind.
When he left, he prepared a simple lunch: a protein-packed sandwich that gave him energy for the rest of the day.
"Perfect... I feel very good," he said, punching the air with a closed fist. I remain intact. I continue just as fast, this is great.
But then, a shadow crossed his face. The excitement faded as he remembered that his dream of returning to the UFC seemed increasingly distant.
"Although I don't think I can anymore... I'm labeled as a fugitive," he whispered to himself, feeling how that label weighed on him.
As he sat at the table, Oscar realized that he had a commitment that night: to work at the club. He decided that he would take advantage of the afternoon to relax and clear his head a little before facing the night.
Oscar distracted himself with different activities, one of them was reading the Bible. He had gone through many complications in the past, and his faith in God had become a fundamental pillar of his life.
As he flipped through the pages, time flew by without him realizing it. With a small piece of paper, he marked the page where he had been and closed the Bible, leaving it next to his bed. He made the sign of the cross on his chest, feeling a wave of peace as he did so.
"It's a new beginning," he said to himself, getting out of bed and feeling the weight of the day less heavy.
He knew he had to prepare for the club. The fact that he didn't have a cell phone forced him to leave a little early, but he didn't care; Walking was good for him, it gave him time to think and reflect.
As he walked through the streets, the fresh air filled his lungs and reminded him that each step was an opportunity, not only to reach his destination, but also to find clarity in the midst of his doubts.
Upon arriving at the club, Oscar found a vibrant and lively atmosphere. It was evident that this place was always packed, a mixture of laughter, music and the noise of drinks. He approached the same man from last time, who received him with a knowing smile.
—Put it on and go to work! —he said, while handing her a strange apron.
Oscar felt a light blush on his cheeks. The thought of wearing that apron made her a little embarrassed, but at the same time, there was something exciting about the challenge. After all, it was a chance to get out of his comfort zone.
With a determined sigh, she accepted the apron and headed to the bar. The aroma of cocktails and laughter filled the air, I also felt a spark of adrenaline. He was ready to prepare and distribute drinks.
Next to him, another bartender looked at him curiously.
—Do you have experience in this? —his companion asked him, with a friendly smile.
Oscar hesitated for a moment. It was true that he didn't have much experience, but he had learned to adapt quickly. The thought of sharing this moment with someone else gave him confidence.
"Boy, give me one of those drinks, please, a glass," a man asked Oscar, with a smile.
-Yeah! —Oscar responded, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
Determinedly, she grabbed the bottle and began pouring the liquid, tilting it gracefully and pouring as if she had years of experience. As he did so, he mixed another drink and shook it confidently. It was as if every movement was choreographed in his mind.
-Ready! Here you have it. "Enjoy it," Oscar said, handing over the glass with a smile.
The man took a sip and nodded satisfied.
—Hey, you're not doing bad at all. "You don't look like a bartender," commented his partner, surprised.
Oscar gave a nervous laugh.
—No, in fact I am not. But you have to adapt to things. You never know what life has in store for you.
At that moment, Oscar realized that there was something liberating about stepping out of his comfort zone. Maybe I wasn't a professional bartender, but I was learning to enjoy the process.
After passing out several drinks, Oscar was finally able to sigh, feeling slight relief. He took the opportunity to look around, looking for Miranda in the midst of the bustle. His heart beat faster every time he thought about her.
Finally, he saw her: she was handing out drinks, like a professional waitress. That image calmed him; At least I could see her. But it wasn't enough just to look at her; I wanted to talk to her, get to know her a little more. Oscar's mind was filled with questions about what that conversation would be like.
Suddenly, Miranda began to approach, her figure standing out from the crowd. Oscar wanted her to come even closer, to notice his presence, but she seemed completely absorbed in her work, oblivious to it.
Oscar looked around, making sure no one was watching him. He was looking for the perfect moment to act. Then, he turned to his companion next to him and made a sound with his mouth: pish!
His fellow bartender looked up and, noticing the expression on Oscar's face, nodded to him, as if asking him what he needed.
—Would you cover my position for a while? —Oscar whispered, trying to keep his voice low so as not to draw attention to himself—. I have to attend to an important matter.
The colleague nodded without hesitation, understanding that sometimes there were things beyond work.
-Thank you! "I appreciate it," Oscar responded, a mix of relief and excitement filling his chest as he left his post behind.
With every step he took, he felt his determination increase. The world around him was fading; all that mattered was what was to come.
Meanwhile, the same man who had chased Oscar away the day before noticed his presence. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him leave his post. —Is he the new bartender the boss hired? —he asked himself, a shadow of distrust crossing his face—. He doesn't seem like a trustworthy guy.
With a grimace, the man turned around and headed towards the club's private room, where Thomas Brown, the owner, was resting on a comfortable couch. The room was a reflection of its success: a state-of-the-art television shined on the wall, and luxuries were everywhere, from the artwork to the designer furniture.
"Boss," the man began, his tone suggesting concern. I just saw that new bartender... he doesn't give me a good feeling.
Thomas looked up from the screen, his expression cold and calculating. -Because? What have you noticed?
The man hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. —Well... I'm afraid to tell you that I ran that guy out of here yesterday.
—Should that matter to you, Jhon? —Thomas Brown rose from the couch with a sigh, his gaze cold as steel—. If you have behavioral problems, we will teach you respect. That's all.
Jhon felt the pressure increase in the air. —No, boss, it's something worse. I ran him off yesterday because I saw him talking to the waitress.
Thomas stared at him, his expression morphing into a mix of curiosity and concern. The atmosphere became tense as I waited for Jhon to reveal the waitress's name.
"Miranda..." Jhon finally said, noticing how the name resonated in the room.
A heavy silence followed his words. Thomas frowned, his mind working a mile a minute. —What were you doing with her?
Jhon shrugged his shoulders, but his face showed the discomfort he felt at what he had witnessed. —I don't know... I think they were chatting, I barely noticed it.
—No one can talk to Miranda without my permission. If that boy has other intentions or if he approaches her again, let me know. Brown's voice was like a sharp knife, menacing. Get busy!
Jhon nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He left the room, but not before casting a furtive glance at Brown, who followed him with his eyes, like a predator stalking its prey.
As he walked away, Jhon felt a mix of anxiety and determination. He had to keep an eye on Oscar, but he also wondered if he could really live up to Brown's expectations. What if she couldn't stop Oscar from getting close to Miranda?