Love Addict's RPG Ch. 55

Should just be one last fight chapter left, knock on wood..

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Juan had a funny expression on his face that was equal parts angered, confused, and amused as he stared at Oliver from the ropes. He looked like he couldn't decide between knifing him or giving him a hug. "Shouldn't have let you done that," Juan laughed on his way back to his corner, where a visibly irritated Julio awaited him. "But damn it, if you aren't showing me a good time, hermanito!"

Oliver smiled at that but didn't let down his guard, preferring to remain in battle mode. He leaned against his corner and noticed that the overall scene of the gym had shifted. More of the boxers had stopped what they were doing to come and watch the spar. They were talking amongst themselves, a few of them pointing in his direction as they said this and that.

Oliver didn't care for the extra limelight, at least not from random strangers. More of the kind of attention he preferred was waiting for him in his corner.

Mia was smiling at him from behind the post, but he noticed her piercing eyes staring straight at him with curiosity. "First off, nice job. Second, how the fuck did you do that, mi amor?"

"Can I tell you a secret?" Oliver asked, taking a drink of water that Bradley offered and then spitting it out into a bucket to remain hydrated without putting more water in his stomach. "I get incremental power-ups the more I flirt with cute girls."

"HA!" Bradley laughed obnoxiously loud at the dramatic irony.

"Mn, yes, that would explain it," Mia nodded along with his half-truth, ignoring the strange outburst from Oliver's friend. Playing into it, she looked down at Stacy from above. "Want to throw your hat in the ring and help power him up a little?"

"He's your boyfriend," Stacy laughed dismissively, looked away, and crossed her arms. "You power him up."

"Variety is the spice of life," Mia shrugged. "Good to mix it up a bit now and then. You know," she shot Oliver a cheeky look. "Play the field?"

Oliver blushed at her teasing and looked away, now regretting his little joke.

"Ah, well," Mia gave up on the blond and turned her attention elsewhere. "Becca?"

"W-What? N-No, I... I couldn't..." Rebecca squeaked. Strange thoughts flooded the awkward girl's mind from the mere suggestion. She looked at Oliver for a split second before mentally giving out and falling to her knees, trying to see if she could hide under the canvas until the next round began.

Mia disappointedly rubbed the back of her right wrist, not predicting Rebecca would react as poorly as she did. Sighing, Stacy knelt down after the little nerd and stopped her escape attempt, doing her best to comfort her despite Rebecca's uneasiness around her.

The third round was fast approaching, and the other corner was hard at work. Julio smacked Juan around a few times, pointed at Oliver, and wouldn't stop talking for the entirety of the one-minute break. Something told Oliver things would get worse before they got better, a notion Bradley shared.

"Whatever [Julio Rosas] is TELLING him, it ISN'T good. Don't expect TO rely on the [Stupidity] of [Juan Rosas] again."

"He's right," Mia agreed. "Juan's dumber than a sack of shit, but he'll default to Julio's advice now that you took him down a peg. Don't think he can keep this up forever, though. See how things go and then shake things up if you gotta."

Oliver acknowledged the advice with a head nod right as the bell rang for the third round. Like before, he wanted to take things slow and see what advice Julio had passed on. Despite his progress in the last round, Oliver felt like it was his back against the rope. Anything could happen from here on out, and he had to be prepared for it.

He was shocked when Juan came in charging at him, much like he had in the first round. Oliver called on Fancy Footwork to speed him up and pivot left, but a predictive hook was already on its way toward where his head would end up in about half a second. This looked bad, and he could only escape it thanks to desperately ducking.

It was the worst position to be in. All it would take to knock him over was-

"Down!" The guy with the bell called out as Oliver hit the canvas for the first time, the gathered boxers reacting with a mix of loud emotions ranging from shocked to amused.

Everything happened so damn fast. Juan had an all-access pass to Oliver's head when he was crouched down. His long arm shot out in that instant, nailing him with a fully powered punch. It felt like someone took a padded sledgehammer to his skull.

"Shit," Mia expressed a flicker of dismay, her eyes trained on the man in Juan's corner. "Not good."

She knew her brothers better than anyone, and Julio was as analytic and calculating as Juan was stupid and... not that. He must've fully figured out how Oliver fought by now and passed along the cheat sheet.

"One!" The ref started up the count but quieted down right as Oliver got to his knees without skipping a beat.

"Big mistake," Juan clicked his tongue. "You shoulda stayed down, hermanito. I got allllll the answers up in my head, sí? Can't do shit against me if I know what you're gonna do before you do it!"

The prospect didn't sound great to Oliver, but he wouldn't lose his composure over Juan's taunting if he could help it. "Guess we'll see about that," he took up his stance and waited for the ref to give them the go-ahead to continue.

As soon as he did, Juan got into Oliver's personal space again, maneuvering his big body around in such a way as to continually cut off Oliver's escape route. There wasn't much he could do against him like this, and he saw his options dwindling away right before his very eyes. His only remaining advantage over Juan was his stamina, as the bigger man was burning through what he had to keep up with Oliver's speed.

That was definitely still an angle Oliver could play. There were seven rounds left after this one, and Juan would definitely run low before him. The question was whether Oliver wanted to risk stalling things out for that long. Juan wasn't just keeping up with him and blocking him off. He was on a seemingly endless war path, throwing punch after punch and ensuring Oliver always had to keep on his toes, even hitting him every now and again.

This wasn't sustainable, and Oliver felt he had no cards left to play. The third round stretched as he struggled to do his best, slowly losing in a battle of attrition against his persistently aggressive foe. It took everything he had to keep away from Juan while he was like this, and his counterpunches became few and far between.

This can't continue... Oliver realized. Something's gotta give.

He racked his brain for ideas on what to do, coming up empty every time he tried. It was a sorry state to be seen in, and Oliver's corner wasn't too happy about it.

"The tides of war have turned against him..." Rebecca mumbled, wincing after Oliver ate another gut punch.

"Still time to turn them back," Mia insisted. "Just let him work it out. He's good at that."

Even Bradley had trouble watching this, admitting, "Something TELLS me that the [Heat of Battle] is not the IDEAL environment to nurture a [Breakthrough]..."

Stacy frowned at the ongoing display. She didn't think it was her place to say this, but no one else was. "Do you think that maybe the problem is that he's thinking too hard?"

Mia looked at her like she'd said something a lot more clever than she had. "Might be right, actually. Tell him."

"Me?"

"You're the ex-cheerleader," Mia gestured with her hand, ushering Stacy closer to the canvas. "Hype him up."

Stacy sighed, subjecting herself to her role. She thought back to Sunday at the coffee shop and then to when Oliver interrupted her attempt to bully Mia all those years ago. This wasn't the same guy as either occasion. He was too lost in his head, trying to think of fancy ways to outplay his opponent when all he needed to do was do what he was best at.

Stacy slapped the canvas and called out to Oliver amid the cacophony. Her voice pierced through all else, reaching its intended listener. "Stop thinking so hard about this, dummy! Charge ahead like you always do!"

The world froze as Oliver took the unexpected advice, processing it and turning it over several times in his head. It sunk in quickly, and he immediately understood Stacy was correct. His fear had sent him into an overly concerned panic, and in that state, Oliver underestimated how far he'd gotten during the last two rounds.

A closer inspection revealed that the damage was not insignificant. Juan was hurting- relatively bad, at that. His eye was swelling, and his face turned red from the effort he had to expend just to keep up. Oliver didn't need to stall. He needed to tough it out and go all out on his opponent. To shrug off any pain with all the willpower he could spare until he'd reached the finish line.

Gonna have to go full anime here... Oliver thought before fully committing to it. If this fails, I might have to break out the power of friendship.

The next minute was a grueling slog to get through for both fighters.

Oliver used everything at his disposal to minimize every danger and maximize every attack. Juan knew how all of his feints worked, so he invented new ones on the fly and continually kept him guessing. Not all of them worked. Oliver had to tank way more hits than he wanted, and though his reflexes were sharp and his neck rolling was on point, the damage was eating away at him.

The pressure was constant. Oliver danced in and out of range, expending extra effort to speed up his movements. His fists were flying, his feet were dancing, and his soul was on fire.

Oliver was in much pain, but Juan was starting to look a lot worse than him. Keeping up with the faster fighter took an increasingly significant toll, even more so when Oliver somehow kept speeding up faster and faster. None of his punches deterred Oliver, the persistent bastard just shrugging them off or dodging them at the last second. The relentless pace threatened to overwhelm Juan just as much as the damage to his eye.

He wasn't the most composed person to begin with, and the worse things got for him, the more irritated he became. Anger clouded what little rational thought he possessed, overruling all the advice Julio had given him. Each punch to the face he took emptied his mind further and further until all that remained were rocks rattling around along with one straightforward desire- hitting Oliver as hard as possible.

"You're dead, hermanito!" Juan screamed loud enough for the entire gym to hear it. "Dead, dead, dead!!"

"Save your breath, you fucking-" Julio angrily slammed his cast down the canvas mid-sentence, then howled in pain. "Mierda!"

The change in Juan's demeanor was so noticeable that everyone picked up on it.

"The enemy's morale has been depleted...!" Rebecca observed, daring to hope as she peeked out from under her visor.

High on the masculine energy permeating this manly battlefield, Bradley clenched his fists. "Just a LITTLE more...! This is IT- the [Turning Point]!"

"There we go," Stacy grinned at the results of her not-so-meager contribution. "Now it's almost like he's doing that thing in those cartoons you guys watch. You know, where the dude's hair gets all spiky, and he gets stronger, or whatever?"

"Sí," Mia laughed dryly. "Couldn't have said it better myself..." Mia then placed her hands on the canvas and shouted loud enough for Oliver to hear her over all the other clamor. "Time to bring it home, mi amor. Bring. It. HOME-" thoughtlessly swept up by her passionate emotions, she slammed her right fist into the canvas, instantly recoiling in pain. "Mierda!"

Oliver happened to be in agreement with his girlfriend.

Juan was slipping more and more with every second ticking down. His moves were now sluggish, powered by exhaustion and anger. Feints were working on him again about as reliably as they had in the first round. Oliver now landed most of the punches as Juan's were so telegraphed he would've had to go out of his way to get hit by them.

It really was time to bring it home.

"Not gonna lose to you, bastardo! As soon as you stop weaseling around, I'm gonna... gonna...!! Raargh!!" Juan wound up a massive hook, twisting his spine back like a cartoon character to put extra force into it.

Oliver didn't waste his breath trying to say something cool in the heat of the moment. Instead, he spoke with his actions and ducked under Juan's incoming hook. This wasn't like the disastrous duck from before, as Juan had trouble following along and didn't even see where Oliver went until it was too late.

It hurt to scrunch his beat-up body like this, but Oliver bit down on his mouthguard to bear with it as he unfurled himself like a spring. He kicked off the canvas, trying to pull off something reckless, stupid, and potentially powerful. Launching like this put the force of his entire body behind a skyward uppercut, zooming straight toward Juan's chin.

The gamble paid off in spades- his fist slammed into his opponent's jaw so hard that it stunned him on the spot. All Oliver had to do was follow it up. Juan stared at the sky in his momentary paralysis; his brain jostled badly enough that it couldn't even conceive of what was coming.

This is it, Oliver clenched his fists as he reared back the first strike of the oncoming storm. All or nothing...!

He hit Juan as hard as he could, slamming glove into face. And then he did it again. And again. And again. And again, and again, and again.

Oliver was unleashing punches so fast that he could feel exhaustion in his arms building up for the first time since he'd bought Physical Conditioning, yet he didn't stop. It was a desperate strategy, burning through his stamina to end the match here and now, but it was a clear shot to victory so long as he hit Juan enough times. He just had to keep going and going, unleashing a minigun's worth of punches until one of them finally did the trick.

Oliver's right arm was on fire as the last attack in the barrage landed, and he was forced to finally stop. The crowd watched in stunned silence as Juan remained standing with only seconds left on the clock. He wasn't going down, drudging up some power within himself to stay standing and raise his fist.

"Can't... hand over... mi hermana... to a guy... like... me!!" Juan bit down on his mouthguard, breathed in, and shouted, "SHE... DESERVES... BETTER THAN YOU!!"

Mia felt even less thrilled than Oliver to be put under the spotlight and was practically dying of brother-induced cringe, but she dared not look away when Juan was about to strike.

Oliver closed his eyes, succumbed to the urge to say something cool at the last second, and became one with the power of anime as he landed one final attack.

"I THINK SO, TOO, BUT I'M STILL GONNA TRY MY HARDEST TO MAKE HER HAPPY, YOU ASSHOLE!!"

Juan's eyepatch flew from his face as Oliver's fist slammed into it for the last time, revealing a glass eye sporting a single crack hidden beneath a pair of now-bruised eyelids covered in scar tissue. He stepped back on wobbly knees, stabilized for a brief moment, raised his fist, and then buckled under his weight.

Juan's face flattened against the canvas. The crowd went silent save for the acting ref, who began a countdown that ended ten seconds later to a round of thunderous applause from the crowd of boxers, the music in Oliver's head becoming a sappy victory fanfare with plenty of 80s synths.

Even though he knew what had happened, Oliver couldn't believe it. He stood in the ring over his defeated opponent, his arms sore from punching and his face covered with sweat. The satisfaction and pride he felt in himself was so potent it felt like a drug.

He still hated getting punched, but damn was it worth it.

Mia scrambled up the stairs to the ring, leaving the rest of Oliver's cheering supporters behind her to go and hug him as hard as she could. The limelight was now shining on both of them, but neither cared. They were lost in each other, tastefully locking lips and disregarding everyone who cheered at them as they did so.

"I won, Mia," Oliver pointed out helpfully, ignoring how much it hurt to be hugged.

"...Kinda noticed that, yeah. Good job." Mia's smile then lessened as she squinted her eyes at him. "Got a tip for the next time you do something crazy like this, though. If you get a chance to say a big, epic one-liner again, don't put yourself down by implying you think I deserve better than you, mi amor."

"But... the rest of my line-"

"Yes, the part where you publicly yelled at my brother that you would make me happy and then called him an asshole was some real shit, Ollie, very sexy. But you know what else is sexy?"

"Mia, are you seriously doing this right now?" Oliver laughed.

"Confidence," she continued, ignoring him. Her stubborn eyes demanded to be taken seriously. "You don't have to try harder to make me happy. Already am happy with you, estupido. Got that?"

"Yes, okay. I've literally been getting punched in the head for the last nine minutes, but I'm sorry I said something lame at the end and ruined the entire thing." He shook his head with a disbelieving smile.

Mia finally smiled and eased up. "Wouldn't go that far. Rest of your performance tonight? Gold, mi amor. Solid gold. As for the bit about confidence... maybe we'll work on it a little later tonight when it's just you and me, mn?"

Oliver gulped at the speed with which Mia's smile went from innocent to not- zero to one thousand. This was not the place to be looking at him with that downright sinful grin, and the sheer thrill of it gave him a chill down his...

Wait... no... that's not because of the smile, that's... Oliver's posture slumped, and he let out a groan. For fuck's sake.

From Mia's perspective, Oliver just randomly made a disgruntled expression and groaned out of nowhere. She became anxious, wondering if she'd said something wrong. "Ollie? You know I was just joking about the one-liner, right? Only wanted to tease you a little, I didn't mean to-"

"Are we seriously doing this?" Oliver asked as the crowd grew quiet upon the intruder's ascension into the ring.

"We are," Julio slipped through the ropes, removing his tanktop and throwing it behind him. He stooped over his fallen brother's unconscious body, lightly kicking him in the head a few times. "Up."

"Mn...?" Juan stirred, wearily dragging himself halfway to a sitting position. "Fuck's going on? My head fuckin' hurts, bro..."

"Be more surprised if it didn't," Julio fell to his knees and shook his head in disapproval. Then, he thrust his right hand toward Juan. "Don't worry about what's going on. Glove me and get out of the ring."

Juan slurred something about how no one tells him what to do before doing exactly as he was told. He lazily removed his glove, helped Julio slide his fist in, and strapped it nice and tight. Juan then crawled out of the ring, where one of his gym buddies caught him before he fell face-first onto the ground.

"No, no, no," Mia stormed away from Oliver, getting straight up in her oldest brother's face. "Absolutely fucking not. Juan lost fair and square, so if you don't get the fuck out of here with your bullshit, then... then..."

"Mia," Oliver approached her from behind, putting his gloved fist on her shoulder. "Get out of the ring."

"What?" Mia laughed, thinking he must be joking. "You can't possibly intend to fight him like this, and you," she turned to Julio, "You shouldn't even be fighting! Your stupid ass'll get confused sooner or later and forget that your cast isn't a boxing glove!"

"That's only ever happened twice," Julio looked past her and towards his enemy. "Now step aside. Fight's not over."

"Like hell it isn't, I-"

"It's okay," Oliver comforted her. "This was the only way it was ever going to end."

Mia looked at both of them and confirmed what she already knew. Her brother and her boyfriend were indeed a pair of stupid fucking idiots, but if this was what really needed to happen for them to get along...

"Fine," she grumbled and adopted a pissed-off expression before stomping away. "I'll just go back to the fucking sidelines again and provide commentary like it's a goddamn tournament arc while you two talk with your fists like savages, I guess..."

When Mia left the ring and rejoined the others, she noticed the big grin on Stacy's face. "Fuck you smiling at, perra?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about how I could save money by giving up reality TV and following your boyfriend around everywhere he goes instead. I haven't been this entertained in..." Stacy cupped her chin and thought about it. "Ever?" She tested the word, seeing how it felt. "Yeah, gonna go with ever."

That got a cheap laugh out of Mia, improving her mood somewhat.

Rebecca also wasn't thrilled by the sudden turn of events, her buck teeth nervously biting into her lower lip as she took Mia's sleeve. "Is he going to be okay? Even if Julio is a wounded soldier, Oliver barely won the first fight..."

"Depends," Mia shrugged. "Related note, you bring any of your BB guns in your pack today?"

"Um... n-no...?" Rebecca curiously tilted her head.

"Damn. Was hoping to take Julio's eye out and widen the handicap a little." Mia snapped her fingers in irritation. She then looked at Bradley, who seemed to take this in stride. "What about you? Any thoughts on this bullshit?"

"I currently have NOTHING to contribute! Being a [Side Character] in the LIFE of my [Best Friend], I make myself useful when NEEDED and keep to myself when NOT!"

Mia raised a brow, then rubbed her forehead dismissively while turning her attention back toward the ring. "...Not even gonna attempt to unpack that. One troubled white boy lacking self-esteem is enough for me, thanks."

Speaking of troubled white boys, Oliver dreaded the next couple minutes of his life. His body was in pain, he was starting to feel somewhat tired, and his arms ached. Fighting Juan for nine minutes was worse than all the physical activity he did yesterday combined, even if you were generous and counted the light jogging as a break between fights... and now it was time to do it all over again.

"You really can't let this go, can you...?"

"I can't," Julio confirmed. "Made a pretty good case for yourself by defeating Juan, but I just can't accept you until I've tested for myself. Gotta see how far you're really willing to go for Mimi."

"Mia was right about you guys," Oliver managed a laugh. "A punch to the teeth really is the only language you understand."

"Might be onto something with that," Julio admitted, smiling thinly. He then took up a fighting stance, standing tall and proud with his left arm tucked behind his back as the BGM shifted to a more intense, personalized track that sounded like a mix of the western standoff song and the fierce boss battle theme that played when fighting Juan. "On that note, think it's about time you and I have ourselves a lengthy 'discussion', sí?"

Oliver adopted his own fighting stance again, turtling up and guarding his face. Pushing through his pain and exhaustion, he focused on his desire to clear this damn Heart Lock once and for all, refusing to leave the ring until Julio suffered the same fate as his brother. "Don't see any other way out of this, so fuck it. Let's 'chat'."

Julio's smile evolved into a subtle smirk as he gave the referee a solemn nod. Not knowing what else to do, the skeptical gym bro rang the bell, signaling the beginning of the fourth round and the final stretch of Oliver's uphill battle.

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