Chapter 2: Flickers of the Past
While sipping coffee, his gaze dropped, lingering on his phone, dreaming and waiting for a message from Megan that would never come. I don’t know why I’m still waiting, when all she does is avoid me, he thought. Thinking of her truly bothered him, and he sighed.
“I’ll cook breakfast,” he said, though his eyes kept flicking back to his screen. He was so distracted that while chopping onions, his knife slipped. “Ouch!” Blood welled up, snapping him back to the present. He rinsed the cut, and his focus returned. Focus, Morgan. Focus. He seasoned the meat and grilled it while preparing the bread.
Fifteen minutes later, breakfast was ready. He carried it to his small dining table and ate in silence.
After the meal, he put on his black shirt and long coat, left his apartment, rode his old motorcycle, and headed to Harper’s gym.
“This is going to be a very long day,” he thought.
It was 8:00 AM when he arrived. The vast training center stood outside the city downtown. It was a large facility open to martial arts students, trainers, and anyone serious about training.
Though still early, the place was already busy. He stood at the door of his assigned room when Jason approached him.
“I hope you take this training just as seriously as you took your previous fights,” Jason said with a hopeful smile.
“Don’t worry. I’ll do my best to win again. I badly need the money,” Morgan replied. In his mind, he added that he needed it to stay longer in Megan’s country after the tournament. He would find her and see her face to face, no matter what.
“So what are you waiting for? Go meet your new trainer there,” Jason said, smirking.
“Okay, boss.” Morgan’s heart pounded. The chance to see Megan at last felt closer. Would she treat him differently if they met in person? Would she still run away? He hoped his appearance would help. He knew he was more than just attractive. He had chiseled features, a strong build, defined abs, long wavy dark-blond hair, and a towering frame. Yet his greatest worry remained. His pockets were almost always empty, and his status was far from what he wished it could be.
He walked into the training room. The man standing there looked him over from head to toe, clearly assessing him, as if doubting his ability.
“Hey. You Morgan? I’m Kevin, your trainer.”
“Yup. I’m Morgan. Nice to meet you.” Morgan extended his hand, but Kevin ignored it. He pulled his hand back quickly, feeling a flash of embarrassment.
“Alright then. I’ll be training you in kickboxing. Jason entered you in an official tournament instead of those underground MMA scraps,” Kevin said, his mouth twisting into a sneer as he jabbed a finger hard into Morgan’s chest. “Don’t get cocky. Those street wins don’t impress me. You follow real rules now, and that changes everything. Let’s see if you actually have skill, or if you are just another brute who gets by on dirty tricks.”
Morgan’s jaw tightened slightly, but he only nodded. “Alright. Let’s start.” He knew he needed patience today, not for the training itself which he was used to, but for Kevin’s attitude. He intended to prove him wrong.
Minutes later, Morgan followed every instruction carefully, watching and listening closely as Kevin demonstrated the techniques. He repeated each move in front of the mirror until sweat dripped down his face.
Kevin did not go easy on Morgan. “Guess what? You will have to work twice as hard to win this,” he snapped. “Frankly, I doubt you can do it.”
Morgan’s lips twitched in annoyance. Did this man think none of his past victories mattered? He wanted to snap back, but he held his tongue. He could not risk causing trouble, not when this was the only way to reach Megan.
“Alright,” he said instead, catching his breath. He sat on the bench not from exhaustion, but to calm his rising temper. He grabbed his water bottle and drank deeply. Be patient, Morgan. Stay patient.
Soon after, Kevin called him back. “Put on your gloves. Spar with me. Let’s see if you can actually apply what I have taught you.”
Morgan agreed willingly. Maybe this would finally shut his doubts up. Kevin acted confident and certain of his own skill, seemingly forgetting who he was dealing with.
As soon as they began, the difference showed. Morgan moved faster, his punches and kicks landed cleanly, while nearly all of Kevin’s attacks missed. Before long, Morgan spotted the perfect chance. He threw a straight punch to the face the moment Kevin lowered his guard. Kevin swayed and fell to the mat. Morgan stopped instantly, a faint and satisfied smile touching his lips. There. Now you see.
Kevin stood slowly, blood trickling from his lip and sweat soaking his clothes. He wiped his mouth roughly. “Huh. Not bad,” he muttered, his arrogance shaken for the first time.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit that hard,” Morgan said quickly.
Kevin smirked though his eyes gave him away. “Don’t look so surprised. I cannot believe you pick up kickboxing this easily.” For a moment, respect flickered in his gaze, only to be replaced again by his usual arrogance.
“Are you sure you are alright?” Morgan asked, trying not to laugh. He could tell Kevin was injured, but only pretending to be fine to keep his pride. He reminded himself not to disrespect him or Jason would pull him from the fight.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. Those punches didn’t hurt at all,” Kevin insisted.
“Alright, boss.”
“Good luck. Hope you learn fast enough to actually win this thing,” Kevin added sarcastically as he pulled off his gloves.
“Oh, I will,” Morgan replied calmly.
“That’s all for today. Get some rest. We start again tomorrow.” Kevin grabbed his bag and left.
Morgan stayed seated, deep in thought. He wondered if he really could win this kickboxing tournament. It was new to him though he adapted quickly. Jason’s choice still confused him, but his sparring win today gave him confidence. He felt he had a real chance.
One thing was certain. He would win no matter what. This was his only source of income right now, and more than that, he needed this prize to get close to Megan. She had become his only goal and his obsession. Never before had he wanted anything this badly.
He sighed, stood, and left the gym. On his way home, he stopped at the supermarket to buy supplies. Walking past a jewelry store, he caught sight of a delicate necklace. He thought he could give this to her for her birthday, which was only a month away. He counted his money and hesitated, then decided to buy it anyway even as he worried his savings would run low if he lost the fight.
As he exited the shop, a well-dressed older man bumped into him in a hurry. “Sorry!” the man called out, already walking away.
Morgan watched him go and then froze. There was a striking resemblance between them, so strong they could easily pass as grandfather and grandson. A sharp headache hit him and faint flashes of old memories flickered in his mind before vanishing as quickly as they appeared.
He shook his head to clear it and climbed back onto his motorcycle. “I need some sleep. Maybe tomorrow those lost memories will come back to me,” he muttered, riding home.