Jason was just about to step out of the gym doors, his body still vibrating from the aftershock of the fight, when he heard a voice call out.
"Jason! Wait up!"
Coach Morales came jogging over, sweat still clinging to his face from earlier sparring sessions. The urgency in his tone was impossible to miss.
Jason turned, raising an eyebrow. "What's up, Coach?"
David, Sophia, and Emily slowed their steps, looking curious.
Morales stopped in front of them, catching his breath. "I need… I need to talk to you. Alone, if possible."
Jason glanced at his parents, who immediately picked up the cue. David clapped his son's shoulder. "We'll wait in the car. Take your time."
Sophia hesitated, looking worried. "Don't take too long, okay?"
Jason nodded. "I won't."
As his family walked off, Morales wasted no time. He gestured toward the side of the gym, away from prying ears. "Listen, kid. I wasn't gonna say this yet, but after what you just pulled off in that ring…"
Jason's interest was piqued. "Go on."
Morales grinned. "There's a statewide youth boxing tournament happening next week. Massive event. Top amateur fighters from every major gym are gonna be there. Big crowd, major exposure."
Jason nodded, trying to gauge where this was going. "And?"
Morales leaned in, his voice dropping. "Word is, UFC officials are gonna be there. Scouting potential talent."
Jason froze. UFC officials?
"You're kidding."
"Dead serious," Morales said, eyes practically glowing with excitement. "I've only seen a few kids in my entire career with the raw ability you just showed. If you enter that tournament, and you dominate like you did today…" Morales exhaled, almost giddy. "You'll put yourself on the map, kid. Fast."
Jason's mind raced. UFC officials watching? A tournament where the best fighters would be gathered? This was the perfect opportunity to get his name out there.
Still, he asked cautiously, "What's the catch?"
Morales hesitated before answering. "It's not a small-time event. This tournament is brutal. Twelve rounds over the course of a week. Single elimination. And most of these kids? They've been training for years to take this title."
Jason smirked. "You saw what I did in there. You think I can't handle it?"
Morales grinned. "I know you can. That's why I'm pushing you to do it."
Jason crossed his arms, weighing the offer. "Alright… I'm interested. What's the prize?"
Morales hesitated before finally dropping the bombshell. "…Fifty thousand dollars."
Jason's jaw almost dropped. "…What?"
"Fifty grand to the winner," Morales repeated, his grin widening. "It's not just about the money, though. Winning that tournament would instantly make you one of the most talked-about young fighters in the country."
Jason's mind flooded with possibilities. Fifty thousand dollars. National recognition. UFC officials watching. This was it. His chance to finally make a name for himself — legitimately.
"I'm in," Jason said without hesitation.
Morales clapped his hands together, grinning. "Hell yeah! That's what I wanted to hear. The tournament starts next Friday. You'll be fighting every day until you either lose or win it all."
Jason smirked. "I don't plan on losing."
Morales chuckled, shaking his head. "Kid… you've got something. I mean it. You bring that same energy you did today?" He whistled lowly. "You're walking away with the belt — and fifty grand."
Jason extended his hand. "Lock me in."
Morales shook it firmly. "I'll get the paperwork ready. But Jason…"
Jason raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
Morales' face grew serious. "You'll be fighting the best young fighters in the state. They're not gonna hold back. I need you to promise me you'll stay under control."
Jason's mind flashed to the alleyway brawl… the damage he inflicted in the ring today… and his promise to his mother.
"I will," Jason said, his tone ironclad. "Only in the ring. Nowhere else."
Morales smiled, seemingly reassured. "Good. Now go tell your family the good news."
As Jason turned to leave, Morales grinned slyly. "And hey… start thinking about how you're gonna spend fifty grand."
Jason laughed, already mentally preparing for war. I'm not walking away with anything less than that belt.