The Trainer

 

Jamie walked through the doors of the UFC gym and sat down on a bench, waiting for Alex to come out. For years, Alex had been a shut-in, shy nerd who spent days on the computer; it drove his father nuts. Jamie reminisced of all the times neighborhood kids came to the house, asking for Alex to come outside and play, and every time being sent away sans Alex. Even years later, as a college student, he never once left his room outside of the occasional class. Jamie looked up into the ring with pride, as his reinvented son dominated his opponent, immediately pinning him to the ground. 

You see, one dreary September day, Jamie had had enough of Alex’s lethargy. Convincing his son that a gaming convention was in town, Alex needed no coaxing to rush to his father’s Mercedes. However, when he pulled up next to Iron Sweat Martial Arts, he nearly walked home. But after being promised whatever DLC he dreamed of, Alex reluctantly relented. Jamie drove away, as Alex walked in the doors and shook hands with Chuck, the owner. Six short hours later, Alex was unrecognizable. Jamie studied his son, now lean and packed with muscle, his greasy mop top now shaved off to a clean, mess free cut. His yellow taped hands pushed forcefully on his pinned opponent, full of power and might.

His opponent having tapped out, Alex pulled him up, and embraced him in a half hug. Jamie had never seen his son interact with others, let alone embrace someone. Alex sprang over the side of the ring, landing on his huge feet. Dripping with sweat, and stinking of testosterone, he ran toward his father, pulling him into a hug. He effortlessly lifted all 240 lbs of Jamie, and placed him back down onto the ground.

“Dad, I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for me. I mean, look at me!” Alex spread his arms out, flexing his strong pecs and chiseled abs. “I’m a new person! I feel like I can conquer the fucking world!” Jamie, with watery eyes placed his hand on his son’s shoulder.

“My god, Alex. What happened?” Alex turned for only a moment, before handing his dad a pair of black boxing gloves. “What are these for?” Alex smiled and playfully punched Jamie’s shoulder.

“C’mon lemme show you what happened. Put em on and get in the ring.” Jamie stared at his son in hesitation, but the joy and spark in his son’s eyes was something he hadn’t ever seen before. It was too much to disappoint him. He looked down at the black gloves, warm from recent use. He slid his hands into the gloves, slick and wet with sweat. A shiver ran down his spine, as Alex pulled the cables apart and led his father into the ring. Alex gleefully jumped back and forth, full of a contagious, energetic spirit. 

“Okay, dad, now just watch me and try to do what I’m doing.” Alex slowly and methodically punched the air, watching for his father to repeat his movements. Jamie awkwardly watched and repeated, before he felt a rhythm within him. 1…2…3…4… 1…2…3…4… Each extension of his arm, surges of strength radiated down his biceps and into his curled fingers. Alex watched with bated breath as he witnessed his father’s flabby arms begin to firm and tighten. The sleeves of his polo shirt had stretched to capacity, and had begun to tear.

Next, Alex kicked straight out with his right leg, his massive sole parallel to his body. This was particularly difficult for Jamie, as he could only raise his leg so far. Though, the more he did it, the higher it lifted. His gut melted away with every kick; quads, hamstrings, and calves bulked and spasmed, growing in strength. His feet burst from his wingtip shoes, the streams of leather falling like confetti to the ground. 

Finally, as the tattered remains of his clothes fell from his sweaty, glistening body, Alex knew it was the final moments of what used to be his father. Alex rushed Jamie, throwing a punch right past his cheek. Dodging it by seconds, Jamie smirked at his new opponent, surprising him with an uppercut. Taking it on the fun, Alex smiled joyfully as the two sparred. For a good 20 minutes, the evenly matched pair fought blissfully, laughing and sweating together. In the final seconds of the match, Alex flew into a jumpkick. His foot collided with Jamie’s rock hard chest, as he flew against the post. The force of the collision slammed his head into the padding, and within moments, he sat slumped on the ground. 

Alex smiled, and offered his hand to his defeated opponent. With a hearty chuckle greeting him, the sexy, cocky, and youthful glance of a new and improved Jamie brought a cheeky grin to his face. 

“Got me this one time, bitch. But I’ll get ya next time.” Alex pulled his best friend to his feet, a familiar athletic musk wafting from his sweat-glistening body. Jamie tightened his gloves in his typically flirtatious manner, biting and pulling. “Down for round two, bro?”