Dinner Table, Tuesday Night
Ashan was eating his dinner.
Boiled chicken. rice. Some vegetables, again.
His dad watched silently.
Then out of nowhere
"You still punching the air in the old motor garage?"
Ashan blinked.
"...Yeah."
His dad chewed. Swallowed.
Then reached for his phone.
"You ever hit a real bag?"
"We can't afford-"
"Relax. I know a guy. Old friend. Trains out in Midtown. Says the gym's got drop-ins for cheap if you know the right people."
Ashan sat up straighter.
"Wait… seriously?"
"You've been training for a year, Ashan. Alone, and made a hell of a lot of progress too. That's admirable. But…"
"At some point, you've got to test yourself."
---
Mr. Korr handed Ashan the phone later that night.
A deep voice answered.
"Yo, this Ashan?"
"Uh-yeah."
"Heard you're serious. We don't do cardio boxing or any bullshit in here. You coming to hit or pose?"
"To hit."
"Good. Thursday. Midtown Boxing Club. 6PM. Walk in. Mention Tony at the door. Bring wraps."
Click.
Ashan stood frozen, phone still in hand.
"...What just happened?"
His dad walked by casually.
"You got a date. Don't be late."
---
Project Dragon, Day 225
"Thursday. First gym visit." "Don't know what to expect. Don't know who'll be there. I just know I have to go." "I'm not trying to be perfect." "I just want to know if I can keep up."