MMA Fighting Ring

@Choi San Noticing the look from the latter, Sunoo chuckled with a bemused look on his face, a smile trailing as he speak. "What? I can't help it, okay? If am to see you compete again, I'll definitely cheer for you. I got a few looks but that's about it and I'm still in one piece, so, all is good, right?" He piped again and just as he was about to continue and about to take a step closer to San, the fighter beat him to it and he found himself back in the same situation as earlier when San's warning him to pipe it down, yet again.

Hearing his whisper and him being given something in return, it actually caught him off guard this time and he couldn't help but blush for some reason since he's not used to others being that close to him since despite being a social butterfly, he still likes keeping distance from people. With him a feeling a bit flustered, he cleared his throat and smiled up at the latter as they now make their way outside of the fighting ring.

As San reiterated what he'd want to do, Sunoo beamed at him, eyes up on the latter. "That is actually a good plan. My place then. Also, do you want to order some food or would you like me to cook? We can do either or both, I don't mind cooking since my pantry's stocked, so is my fridge." Sunoo offered, scooting close towards San and avoiding others walking in and out of the fighting ring, and this time around, he led both of them out of this area and back onto the main road and sidewalk since his place is just around the corner.

"Uhmm, anything in particular that you'd like to eat? Also, since we're celebrating, do you want anything to drink or something? I figured that always comes with celebrating something, you know maybe some champagne, beer, or whatever floats your boat, I've got some stash in my place. I don't drink that much but I like keeping some for situations like this. Also, no need to like, give me something in return, I really enjoyed tagging along. Thank you for letting me, San." Sunoo uttered softly as he kept walking beside San, feeling at ease now that they're away from the crowd, just enjoying the breeze and the usual sounds of the city buzzing around them.

@Lee Heeseung The words that left Heeseung's lips about Sena had San stopping in his tracks, averting his attention to the male before him as he is surprised Heeseung knew the name. It was obvious upon San's features that he is perplexed before he quirks an eyebrow.
"...Yeah- that guy. I had some food with him. He was really strange but interesting at the same time. Do you know him personally?" He questions curiously. Maybe this was a set up between the two? San started to wonder. Perhaps he needed to keep his guard up a little longer than expected.
With that said, he continued to lead the way towards a nightly food truck, not huge on crowds in general. He was always content with the simplest forms in life.

San being the lowkey gentleman that he is, he extends a hand out for Heeseung to sit down first as he awaits patiently.
"What is your line of work again? I can't remember if I had asked that yet..."

@Kim Sunoo San is completely perplexed by how casual Sunoo is acting right now, he admired the male for sticking true to himself. He knew from the beginning that Sunoo would catch attention, especially since he is far too pretty for this type of scenario.
The persistence of the male was hard for San to decline the offer, his brown irises briefly showing an admiring expression before he sighs in feign annoyance.
"Listen..I don't want to go out and eat. I'd like to chill indoors if that's okay with you? Also- I'm a er for free food so you've already caught my attention by merely that. But please..." He leans forward once again to whisper near Sunoo's ear as he warns once again, not oblivious to all the onlookers staring down Sunoo.
"Pipe it down, Sunoo. These men are ruthless and I don't want you hurt on my watch, yeah? If you behave, I'll give you something in return. My promise yeah?" he bargained with the overly excited male as he leans back before gesturing towards the door. He took his overnight bag from his manager and bowed respectfully before leading the two of them outside of the underground ring. The nightly breeze felt good against his skin as he emits a sigh.

"Alright- my place or yours?" he questions as he side glances to the pretty boy.

@Choi San For the moment, Heeseung’s content to follow San. He’s not entirely sure where they’re going and he hasn’t explored this area at all, so none of it’s familiar, but it doesn’t matter to him much. Getting home late isn’t going to hurt anything; there’s no one waiting on him anyway. What would have once been a sobering thought is grounding now, and as they exit the building, Heeseung stops to stare at the sky. It’s a nice night for a walk.

After a moment, he resumes moving, hurrying until he’s within reach of San again. “You probably know a few people.” Though... Heeseung is, unironically, a betting man; he does attend and bet on the fights. While he doesn’t like math, Heeseung is amenable with statistics. The odds are not in his favor, but he's seen weirder coincidences than this. “Was his name Sena?” Heeseung stops short, blinking slowly at San. Then, gradually, he smiles. “Sure, let’s get food. I may not be the best teacher, but I’m sure I can talk you through the basics. But food first.”

@Choi San As the fight starts, Sunoo kept watching, unable to peel his eyes away from the ring and of course, his friend. He observed keenly and noticed how he's able to keep a straight face while fighting and even when he got those blows on his face and him knocking out his opponent, securing his win and belt, his expression remained stoic. Though soon as it's announced that San won, Sunoo became the opposite of him, and he couldn't hold it back anymore and he jumped up from his seat. "Wooooooooooooh! Congratulations, Mr. Boulder! You're the best, San!" Sunoo screamed just like everybody else. However, those in his section, the people around him starts piping down and soon enough, he felt a few eyes on him but he just looked around, skimmed the area, and turned to look at the ring again, not caring about them.

Once San made his way back to him, Sunoo couldn't help but giggle softly as he was called out for not being able to hold his cheers back. "I just can't sit and watch you fight. You were amazing, Mr. Boulder! How I wish I could fight like that." Sunoo mused and chuckled as the latter snickered at him. "So, what? At least I know that I lost my voice for a good purpose." Sunoo uttered smugly and smiled brightly at the latter.

"This calls for a celebration, right? Please don't tell me you won't celebrate. Let's go out and have a few drinks or eat somewhere nice. My treat." With that Sunoo got up from his seat and waited for San to do the same. He knows he might need to prepare and gather his stuff and he's willing to wait. "If you need time, I'll just wait outside your room? I don't mind." Sunoo chirped, now fully unaware of the added attention his getting, now from people passing by their seats because truth be told, not only was he loud, he looked completely out of place.

@Kim Sunoo San had a hunch that Sunoo would not actually intake any warnings that San had given him. He only prayed that he didn't need to get into a brawl because of something Sunoo does.
Making his way to the ring shortly after he leaves now wearing no shirt, gym shorts, protective tape on his knuckles and a mouthguard. San's fight is intense, quick, his eyes never leaving the opponent but his body composure is relaxed.

Though with the passing time, blows and kicks being hit left and right, blood spilling from each person. San's corner of his lip bleeding, but shortly afterwards he does one good blow to the face of his opponent that completely knocks them out cold while San stares down with an unemotional facial expression. This wasn't anything new to San, his eye sight soon averting to Sunoo whose screaming at the top of their lungs.
Meeting Sunoo's eye contact, San squints his eyes into a glare before mouthing the words 'stop it'.
Thats all he said before leaving the ring silently, not bothering to stay for the crowd cheer or anything. He would get pats on his way out, but heads over to where Sunoo is as he casually takes a seat, his eyes lingering to the ring as he watches other people now before returning his attention to Sunoo.
"What happen to behaving? You are going to lose your voice at this point." He comments with a snicker leaving his lips.

@Lee Heeseung San quietly listened to Heeseung speak as they both strolled together outside the building. San pushes open the back door and reveals the dark night sky with street lights now appearing.
San briefly glances over to Heeseung as he emits out an exhaled breath, to give a sense of relief that he is finally outside away from the chaos.

"Interesting....I feel like I know someone from Travestere or actually no- I ate at a restaurant there with some strange..male...Se-something." San struggles to remember the name as his brows furrowed in thought, struggling to remember the name.
He stops in his steps as he turns slightly to face Heeseung properly with a purse of his lips.
"Would you like to eat together? You can tell me about this meditation stuff you do....in detail."

@Choi San Being somewhat of a homebody since he mainly works online, the moment they stepped inside got Sunoo looking like a kid who was taken to an amusement park for the very first time. The atmosphere inside is palpable. Chattering noise echoes, rustling, and bustling. It made him feel like he's in a flea market on a busy Friday morning but also way different and somehow dangerous, which had his adrenaline pumping and if it weren't for San guiding him and distracting him, he would've gone bouncing off the walls. "It's so exciting here, Mr. Boulder~" Sunoo's face etched with a very bright smile, eyes twinkling with excitement and fascination.

Snapping back to reality, he didn't hear much of what San said he just nodded meekly. "Yeah. I won't cause trouble. I promise!" Sunoo salutes playfully and watched as the man walked off, a soft chuckle slipping past his lips as he was told to not get laid, which he doesn't intend to do so anyway. Sitting down the bench again, Sunoo tried his best to be as calm as possible, waiting patiently for the match to start but once San and his opponent was brought to the ring, it's like every single warning that San gave him went straight out the window as he's now on his feet, cheering for him.

"Wooooooohhhh! Go, San! You can take this one down!" Sunoo shouted much like the rest of the crowd, unconscious of the looks he's getting at this point since he's like an eyesore among this crowd of rugged men and a few businessmen who's probably here to gamble. He's not blind, he already spotted a few men passing on messages through their assistants and he's sure that some sort of gambling is going on here but that didn't matter. All that matters to him now is to cheer for San and pray for his safety as he fights.

@Choi San “Autopilot can be nice to get through the daily monotony of life, but that’s not really living.” There’s something almost callous about the words, and reflection on it has Heeseung frowning, searching for something to soften the effect. “That’s just surviving. Functioning. Not living.” The furrow of his brow eases into something more thoughtful after a moment, further reflective. “I’ve heard meditation is nice. I like to take walks, find somewhere as green and peaceful and visibly untouched as I can and just sit in it and breathe. Which is similar, I think. To medication. Stretching, yoga, listen to music. Slow down to take in the moment and breathe.”

Heeseung blinks slowly, owlish, and hunkers down into his jacket. He’s not used to being questioned, at least not by someone unfamiliar. San isn’t Sena, which means Heeseung isn’t certain what level of honesty he’s allowed, what amount of leeway he can get away with. Sena knows him, yes, but San has shown himself to be perceptive in his fights. Surely this much. How much trouble can find him for admitting he has a home? “I live there. And I to eat.” Impulse, and the spark of interest he thinks he sees, is enough to prod him along. “You should get something to eat before you go home. You worked hard. Reward yourself.”

@Lee Heeseung Something about the question asked at hand by Heeseung had San pondering in his thoughts for a moment. No one has really questioned if he was ever mentally okay...
He parted his lips to speak before closing them as if he stops himself from being truthful, the reflection in his eyes showing a sense of withdrawal to the emotion.
"I suppose not...guess it hasn't crossed my mind honestly. My life consists of autopilot mode on most days along with a few distractions here and there. What would you consider something that would help mentally relieve stress?" He questions back, curious as to what answer Heeseung would provide.

Heeseung came off like an individual whom is stuck within his head but in a sense, was hiding something also.
He eyed the latter before him in curiosity, scanning his facial features to hopefully see any answers that could reveal anything. But when Heeseung continues the conversation casually San decides to let it go.
"Travestere? For what?" His nosiness started to show, mainly because there were good restaurants there and it perked his interest. The expression of his eyes seeming hopeful in that moment very obvious.
"Oh me? Hm...was going to head home and nap I suppose after I shower." He comments, his head nodding slowly.

@Kim Sunoo It was hard not to notice Sunoo's excitement, San started to worry that maybe this was a bad idea. The men that visited these places were all ones that carried a dangerous history or some sort of violent upbringing.
Including San- he guided Sunoo to a nearby area where San normally sits so that Sunoo can be close enough to him in case anything goes down in a negative manner.
His brown irises already taking notice of the eyes. Sunoo was definitely out of place, a pretty boy clearly clueless of the surroundings entering this facility.
He is soon averting his attention back to Sunoo who somehow already took out a whole picnic of foods that had his eyes widen just slightly.
Reaching over San takes the bag with a brief bow of his head before gesturing his head towards a nearby bench.
"Sit there, I'll be disappearing to the locker rooms here shortly before I have to go in the ring...." He takes a moment as he notices familiar faces surrounding them, one including his coach that he has known for years that sits next to Sunoo with a smile plastered among his face.
"This is...Lewis..He is from Germany. Has coached me when I was professional and still does. You stay near him if I'm not around, yes?" He comments sternly before leaning down just enough to whisper near Sunoo's ear.
"I repeat, do NOT make a scene. Do not talk to anyone and lastly, don't bat your eyes and try to get laid by these weirdos. Okay?" He clears his throat before holding the bag up with a forced smile to show his appreciation.
"I'm going to head out now. See ya afterwards."

@Choi San Finally getting somewhere he's unfamiliar with brought excitement and adrenaline through his veins, Sunoo thought. With a duffel bag on him like San, he threaded behind the latter, watching his steps and making sure he doesn't fall behind since the latter seem to take a few more strides than he can. Looking up at San, Sunoo's lips pursed forth as he held onto the strap of the bag that he now have hanging over his left shoulder, the strap across his body. "I promise. I'll be very careful and cheer quietly, Mr. Boulder." Sunoo nodded enthusiastically.

Thankful that he opted for casual clothing today instead of putting on his full garb of skirt or dress, Sunoo just followed the latter, already feeling some eyes on him because as he looked around, he did look out place so he understands the stares, side eyes, and glances that he's getting. Focusing on the path in front of him, his doe eyes widened upon seeing how everyone's so hyped up. "Woooaaaaahhh~ I only see this on TV or videos before. This is so cool!" Sunoo exclaimed and immediately cowered forth to take attention off him as he shouted the last bit of his words.

Looking around, he tries to take in everything but he's one pat away from bouncing off the walls with how excited he is. Taking deep breaths, he then pulls the strap of the duffel bag he has for the bag to rest on his stomach, he then opens it and takes out three plastic food containers, placing them inside an extra paper bag he always carries and hands it to San. "Here you go. I dunno how long the fight is going to be or if you get breaks in between but I prepared some sandwiches, fruits, and cookies too~" Sunoo beamed up at the latter and craned his head forth, back, and around. "Uhmm, San, where can I sit?" He asked, gaze back up on the latter after handing him the bag of food he prepared.

@Choi San “I don’t look into the histories of the fighters I bet on,” Heeseung responds, though he’ll take the information offered as the gift that it is. With that kind of training, backing, it’s no wonder the odds so often fall in San’s favor. “Fighting is very demanding.” It seems redundant to speak aloud, but Heeseung is nothing if not an acceptable rubber duck. “Are you taking enough time in between to properly recover? Not just physically, but also mentally.”

Heeseung reflexively locks his phone before putting it into his back pocket. If it turns out that San gave him a fake number, he’ll find out later, and he doesn’t suppose he’ll be upset. A deserved fake out, a calculated deception.

He’ll mulling over his thoughts, considering, because that’s what he does, it’s what he’s used to. And Heeseung tunes in just in time to witness the way San blooms with his smile. “You’re welcome,” Heeseung says instead of parroting his thoughts, because he’s not that impulsive. Or stupid. “But it’s just— it’s honesty. You don't need to thank me for honesty.” He doesn’t need to be thanked for his honesty.

“I’m headed to Travestere. I was probably going to walk a bit, then call a cab.” Perhaps it was carry over from his father, but Heeseung didn’t like anyone having too exact of a location. Walking when possible helped with that, but home was a bit of a drive and knowing alleys and side streets would only get him so far. Even so, it was a good excuse for when he wanted to settle his thoughts. “Where are you headed?”

@Kim Sunoo San wasn't too keen about allowing Sunoo to tag along, part of him worried.
Mainly for Sunoo's safety- and San was no one's bodyguard to begin with.
He walked in front of Sunoo, carrying a duffle bag that slung over his shoulder with extra clothing and basic medical supplies.
They went down a dark alleyway, until he approached a back door. Bringing his left hand up to ball into a fist so he can knock three times.
While they waited for the door to open, San quickly spoke to Sunoo in a stern manner, his expression shifting to a serious look.
"Do not talk to anyone. Don't start conversations, most of all. Cheer quietly. If they insists on bugging you or chatting, you tell them you came with me, okay? Do you understand?"

Despite being an , San was also human. If Sunoo got hurt; thats his responsibility. As the sound of the thick door opening occured, San gestured for Sunoo to enter first so he could stand behind him.
As protection, of course. Fighters hated San, some loved him. Law enforcement despised him because he is a retired professional mma fighter who now fights underground. A liability at this point.

@Lee Heeseung "Heeseung." San repeats the latters name as a means to hopefully remember the name.
Unlike most people, San's memory can be forgetful if they have no true meaning to his life.
Selective memory-
"Lee Heeseung...okay...and I'm tired because as you probably already know. I've been doing this for YEARS. Who knew- leaving the Military Police to now fighting most nights for easy cash... can be exhausting to do so often." He replies, the sound of him shutting and locking the locker is heard next as he gestures for Heeseung to follow him outside. Before he does though, he ensures to take his phone back, shoving it in his pocket before reaching for Heeseung's device to type in his phone number before holding it back out.
Something about the way Heeseung expressed San is a favorite, got a pleased smile to curve upwards upon San's visage. The smile showing his natural dimples before he clears his throat once he is smiling.
"Thanks." He blandly responded as he avoided eye contact briefly.
"Anyway...do you need a cab home? Where are you headed?"

@Choi San Modesty has never been a huge hang up for Heeseung. Years of exposure to Sena and his job have immunized him thoroughly to bared skin, but he still turns his head and averts his eyes to give the illusion of privacy. He only turns when the shifting of fabric has ceased and he can once again feel the prickle of his nerves, the feeling of being watched.

”Heeseung,” he responds immediately. It doesn’t even occur to Heeseung that he might want to consider lying or offering one of his nicknames. The compulsion to offer honesty as often and easily as he can when so much else of his life is steeped in secrecy is hard to ignore. “Lee Heeseung.”

Heeseung considers the information for a moment; mulling it over, sifting through what seems most relevant, plugging the information into the broader map of his thoughts. Then: “Why are you exhausted?” It seems the more pertinent question to ask, even if it’s the most direct. “Before you take a break, you should ask why you’re tired. It’s an outlet, so if you stop, then you’ll still be stressed and you may not even solve the root of the issue.”

Still, it earns a small smile, wry and amused, as Heeseung takes the phone and adds his number under a new contact. “San? You are one of my favorites to watch. You enjoy yourself. But what I want doesn’t matter.” It doesn’t matter because it’s not Heeseung’s body or fight. “I don’t know about pointers, but I can tell you that you like to lead with a punch, and that it’s a matter of time until someone else notices.” He offers San’s phone back then, before, falteringly, offering his own.

@Lee Heeseung Somehow San found this males commentary and keen observation rather amusing. He didn't fully understand how closely other individuals would pay attention to the underground fighters.
Mainly wondering why this stranger would consider this the /best/ way for social interactions.
From what it looks like, San could tell the guy was really fascinated with the hobby.
With a quick turn, San walked over to a crammed, dirty locker room. Opening up a locker to pull out his black tshirt so he can properly be clothed, ensuring to toss the rag into a nearby cart as he continues to attentively listen to the male.
"Mhm..." he briefly responded before shutting the locker door so he could raise an arm and lean to the side as he finally came face to face with the fella following him.

"Your name-" he asked in a calm tone. The look upon his face representing a tired, gentle soul as he continued to finally answer the curious boys questions.
"Hm...I do it for the easy money so I can donate it. I don't entirely hate it, allows me to blow off steam and raise money for kids. I guess its a win win situation but as of late. I'm a bit more exhausted than usual so contemplating whether I should take a break. But I suppose if I take a break....you wouldn't have anyone good to watch huh?" A joke. San is joking despite his lack of dry humor and sarcasm that came naturally.
With a final word in, he reaches into his duffle bag to pull out a phone, holding it out to the male.
"My name is San. Care to share your number and perhaps you can give me pointers for the future? You seem like....you know what you are talking about little weirdo."

@Choi San “It’s not every fight.” Once again, he’s matter of fact, words accompanied by a slow blink of consideration. “Every fight implies I’m here every night waiting for you and that’s creepy. I watch other people, too.” Heeseung acknowledges, somewhat belatedly, that the confession doesn’t exactly help his case, but it is what it is. “You’re good at this. Fighting.” Heeseung almost admits he’s fun to watch as well, but that...that’s probably actually creepy. Later. Maybe.

Without further prompting, Heeseung moves to catch up until he’s walking at the fighter’s side, stealing sideways glances at the male, both to gauge his responses and to buy time considering his own. Not being distracted in the first place would help with the problem, but how should Heeseung say that?

Silence, surprisingly, buys Heeseung more time. And a distraction. Is it a distraction? It feels like a distraction.

“Was that why you were distracted during the fight?” It’s understandable, there’s a lot there to pick apart and consider. “Do you like to fight?” Another sideways glance, this one lingering as Heeseung allows himself the chance to study the response. “If you like it, enjoy it, it’s okay to pursue it. If you only do it because you’re good at it—and you are good at it, normally—that’s okay, too. But if you don’t like it, why do it?” Perhaps it’s all redundant. Perhaps it’s above Heeseung’s proverbial pay grade. Then again, perhaps this is the problem. That’s okay, Heeseung can be a rubber duck. A mouthy rubber duck, sure, but he can absolutely rubber duck this.

@Lee Heeseung Amongst the silence between San and Heeseung, San has been analyzing Heeseung's body language. Mainly trying to see if it can give him hints about the latters demeanor and purpose for approaching San.
His eyes closing slightly as he squints, giving a cat-like appearance while he mentally tries to figure out if he has seen thie male before.

The correction on the definition of a spy earns an amused chuckle on San's part, this male must think San is unintelligible.
"Right....so you are simply a fan that watches my every fight, keeps track of my record, pays attention to when I'm distracted. Just a fan?" He questions in return, his head tilting slightly to the side as the sound of his tongue clicking can be heard between the two.
Though, whatever this male is saying seems to catch San's interest. His eyes sparkling with curiosity-

"Hate to be a pain. But walk and talk, tell me more about how I can better myself, strange kid." San suggested, an open opportunity for the male to continue to persuade him.
As San turned around to continue strolling outside the building towards a bus station.
A humble man, despite his egotistical aura.
"I'm in the middle of contemplating whether fighting is worth continuing to do. Also curious about whether I'm going to sleep good tonight or not. Also wondering if I should visit the kids shelter but mainly pissed that I lost. Because thats money I give away." San is showing a side he wouldn't be caught showing most people. But since he didn't know this stranger and vice verse, he was letting off some of the thoughts that have been torturing his mind the last few weeks.

@Choi San As the fighter settles into a position that’s more comfortable, Heeseung tries to do the same, only aware of the tension he’d been carrying as he begins to relax again. Perhaps, he muses, idle and detached, this had been a bad idea. Perhaps he should have just let it go. But then again, who wouldn’t want to be better? For all the hard work put into something, who wouldn’t want to improve?

“A stalker is someone that harasses another with unwanted and often obsessive attention,” he responds, matter of fact. This time Heeseung does frown, hunching down into his jacket like a scolded child. He certainly feels scolded. Stalker, spy. While he does do the work of both, he wouldn’t be so blatant about it. “If I were spying on you, revealing myself would defeat the purpose. Spies work better when they watch from a distance. In secret.” Heeseung does indeed work better from a distance in secret, but that hardly makes him a spy. He just likes his peace. And his privacy.

Huffing out a noise of confusion, Heeseung shakes his head just once, resolute. “It’s not about the money.” Heeseung didn’t need the money. He’d never needed the money. “It’s good income if you know what you’re doing, but this is my weekly social interaction quota. And a test in whether I’m paying attention to….things. Cues. Tells. Body language and expressions.” He peers at the fighter, expression scrunching. “I like to think I’m passable at that,” even if his interpretation leaves something to be desired. “You showed you were distracted. When took hits you shouldn’t have. When yours weren’t enough to take your opponent down. You’re better than that. I was just…” Just what? “Concerned, I guess. I’ve caught enough fights to know you perform at a higher level than that.”

@Lee Heeseung San wasn't sure if he was hearing things or if this small looking guy was attempting at picking a fight with San.
Each word that is spoken seems to have San stay still and continue to entertain this male but his expression shifted into a further irritated look, brows scrunching together, eyes darting with a look that could kill.
Who the was this guy? Why was he talking about what has San distracted?

The questions kept popping up in San's head while he set the now damp rag to settle around his neck, shifting a bit in footing to stand in a more comfortable position.
"Are you some of kind of....ing stalker? What do you mean by my numbers have been good the last few weeks? Did someone send you to spy on me?" The body language shown from San is one that is now on defense mode, at any given moment he might need to fight this guy.
Being in a gang, his guard was always up- never knew what could happen within seconds or minutes.

Though a thought came to mind as he is soon curving his lips into a smirk.
"Wait- you must be one of those obsessed fans they have been talking about? I don't know why you are following me because I don't do this for myself. But I'm sure you've earned money betting and now you are pissed because I lost? Also, who says I'm distracted?"

@Choi San For as much time as Heeseung spends watching people—observing, he would argue, because it’s less weird to observe and far more weird to watch—his interpersonal skills leave something to be desired. In hindsight, that’s probably a Pigneto thing, growing up in an area where it benefitted Heeseung to remain quiet and unobtrusive. Maybe also a him thing, with his father being what he was, raising Heeseung as he did. Unobtrusive, seen not heard; not enough time putting himself out there and learning how to communicate with all the big words in his verbal arsenal.

In hindsight, that’s probably why all Heeseung does at first is blink slowly as the fighter from the ring turns to face him. The emotion he sees is a familiar one, at least, recognizable as the pinch of annoyance. And that’s fair, isn’t it? Heeseung would be annoyed if he’d lost a fight he should have won, too.

“You should have won,” Heeseung repeats, firm, a stubborn edge creeping into his voice. Maybe it’s not as obvious to everyone else, what he’s implying without asking. “Your numbers were really good the last few weeks. Statistically, you should have won.” Heeseung pauses, considering, referencing, computing. Then, matter of fact: “You’re not the type to throw a fight. And you’re not defensive. Angry, annoyed, but not defensive. So it was an accident. You were distracted. Why?”

@Lee Heeseung The crowd is loud, chants left and right ringing in San's ears.
His mouthguard on while he is shirtless, wearing shorts, his knuckles and feet taped up with protective fighting gear tape that is red.
Sweat dripping down his face, as he heavy breathes sitting in the corner of the ring with his coach whispering words in his ears.

He couldn't believe it- he lost. Why? San thought, it was very unusual but at the same time it happens. San has been trained with the upmost close combat skills that he could kill with one hit to the right spot on the physique of an individual.
His brown irises scanning around before he removed the mouth guard and handed it off to his coach so that he may stand up.
He mentally knew he ed up before it happened, but San's mind has been occupied lately and it was showing in his fights...

Despite him doing this as a hobby to relieve his inner stress. Cursing under his breath, San shoved his coach away from him. Obvious signs of San being pissed off seen upon his visage while he exits the ring.
Walking down the aisle, using a rag to dry off the sweat on his face and neck.
As he was minding his own and prepared to chill in his locker room, San heard a voice from behind.
Who the is that? He thought.

With a slow turn, San came face to face with a unfamiliar face.
Though the words they spoke had him irritated.
"Obviously- but whats your point?"

@Choi San Heeseung doesn’t often go out at night. The short of it is that he has better things to do: books to read, contracts to dig into, sources to vet. And there’s always some documentary or series that’s caught his eye, something he could passively listen to while he did any other task that required his hands and low mental focus. But once a week, as close to clockwork as Heeseung can manage while still maintaining a level of randomness, finds him at the fighting ring of the city, observing and often betting on the figures in the right.

If ever asked, Heeseung would argue it’s his social interaction for the week: willingly surrounded by people and noise and unable (unwilling) to escape. And it’s true, but also true is the fact that he’s honing his craft, people watching, observing. ...and he may have some bets on the fights. But he doesn’t need the money, it’s just a nice bonus when he wins. Most nights, in fact, Heeseung does win.

Tonight is not most nights.

Tonight finds Heeseung a mixture of bemusement and something oddly like disappointment as he makes his way down from his vantage point in the seats, seeking the fighter he’d bet and lost money upon. It hadn’t been a substantial amount, nothing serious to dwell in anger over, but it’s more that Heeseung is....what’s the word, confused? The man in the ring was solid; he worked hard, he hit hard, and it showed. He had a good track record. And then tonight he’d blown it.

Heeseung’s not mad, he reminds himself as he approaches, just confused, concerned. Heeseung’s strong point isn’t numbers. He’s better with people, expressions, motivations. But he is pretty sure numbers don’t lie and the stats had been in favor of a win. So what had changed? And why had it been so obvious?

“Excuse me.” Target found, Heeseung comes to a halt, brow furrowed and hands pressed into his pockets. “Do you have a minute?” Whether the fighter has a minute or not doesn’t really matter. Heeseung continues as if he’d been given the okay. “You could have won that—and you should have. But you didn’t.” The why isn’t asked, but it is implied.