I stared at the phone, then put it down, paced back and forth, then picked it up again only to put it down once more.

I took a deep and controlled breath and then… “Demon Backhand Fist.” Slowly I swung my arm from behind, punching out.

“Back Spin Kick.” I gracefully continued into a spinning roundhouse kick.

“Phantom Demon Spiral Kick.” My leg went around like a helicopter, and I threw in a little hop, took a controlled breath, though calmed, accelerated again.

My breaths were coming in hard, but I resumed. “Three Ring Circus.” I called out as I threw out a cheap kick and a backhand and let the momentum swing me around as I threw out a follow up jab.

“Dragon Uppercut…” I said but just gently lifted my fist.

As much as practicing these forms brought peace and stillness, when the moment passed, memories flooded my mind and I twitched under their weight. I looked down at my chest and gritted my teeth, though, thankfully I guess, Mum’s voice from down the corridor interrupted my dark brooding…

“Would you like me to bring over wing-wing?... Okay. Wonderful, I love you… Oh he hasn’t? I’ll let him know… Okay, bye, my beautiful boy.”

“Mark, dinner's ready!” my mother shouted to me from the kitchen.

“Yes, yes, ok I’m coming! In a minute!” All I needed was a discarded shirt to wipe off my dripping face, and an old shirt from the bedroom floor to replace it.

The phone was still there, like a golden brick of kryptonite, or heavenly rose, except the closer you got to heaven the more you realised there was a hell, a hell that was trying to make a home in every crevice and empty space in your mind. But it’s worth the risk.

Come on, come on, come on! My finger shook over the number ‘6’. ‘beep’ Oh shit, no-no-no-no-no, but it was too late, the number had been pressed and it rang, and someone picked up on the other end.

A sweet, angelic voice answered on the other end: “Hello?”

“Err, umm, hey, hello, hi, is this Catherine?”

“Yes, speaking.” Her voice stole reason from thought.

“Um, ah, yeah, it’s ah, Mark, we have, umm, Maths and English together. Um, hey, I err, was wondering, if ahh, you wanted to go on a date or something?” My heart raced in my chest.

“Umm… I’m sorry, whom am I speaking to?” The words hit me like daggers, and my heart was shredded into a thousand pieces.

Oh, um, I’m the guy from little school who was in that Thousand Fists competition? Nope, can’t say that. “Oh. Yes. Right…” My life, my soul was being crushed, and my voice came out strangled, “Umm, I’m that tall skinny guy, with the dark hair and olive skin, I sit in front of you in English.”

“Don’t know who you are… Sorry.”

Oh… My fragile little heart was breaking into a thousand pieces.

“I think you have the wrong number,” she added.

The giant stone in my throat was choking me. “Oh, haha, right, umm, I’m… sorry for bothering you, err, ahh, okay… goodbye.” It almost sounded like she had more to say, but luckily the gods gifted me with quick fingers, ending the call and my pain in due haste. Who was I kidding? A quiet nerd like me trying to ask out the prettiest girl in my grade? Idiot-idiot-idiot!

  

Okay, hopefully if I just keep my head down, no one will mention last night or last week. “Thanks for the lift, Mum.” A reluctant step out of the car presented me to all the other early drop-offs, who gathered with their respective stereotypes, but luckily it looked like Catherine or her friends weren’t here yet.

“Have a nice day at school, dear.”

If only it was that easy. There was one spot where me and my friends would meet before school, but today as I rounded the corner, there was only Matthew.

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“Morning, Mark.” Matthew gently raised his hand for what barely passed as a wave. “I got a job.”

“About time!” I gave him a quick high five. “Where is it? Pizza delivery? Check-out?”

He did his little half smirk, which usually meant he was trying to hold his smugness back, but it shined through like the morning sun. “It’s with Astor Corp.

“Huh? You work for Astor Corp now? You’re kidding, right? You’re pulling my leg? While the rest of us are working at the movies or some crappy restaurant, you’re working for the richest man on the planet?”

He didn’t bat an eye. “Yes, that’s right, except, it’s an internship, so I’m not actually paid anything.”

“Huh—!” Nobody just gets a job, even if it’s just work experience, at Astor Corp. He must know someone, or his parents do.

“Yeah, they said they really liked my thoughts and contributions at the demonstration and offered me the opportunity then and there.”

“That’s effed…” Everyone seemed to be pulling away from me. Maybe Mum was right. Maybe I would end up washing dishes for the rest of my life. Got to get my life together.

A buzzing came from my pocket. “Sorry, it’s Jonas, gimme a sec.” To which Matthew just nodded and proceeded to occupy himself with his own phone.

“Yo, Marky-Mark man, what’s happening?” Jonas’ voice always made me think he was a tall-lanky DJ kinda looking guy, who knows though.

“Hey Jonas!” I said into the phone. “Not much, just about to start school.”

“Oh-yeah-right! You’re still doing that lol. Yo, you free this arvo?”

“Nah man sorry, got something on, I could ditch school and play today?”

“No can do, bro! Me and the gang are testing. Later tonight?”

“Yeah sounds good, lock it in… Alright, see you then. Adios.” I finished before hanging up.

“Sorry about that.”

Mathew only softly lifted his head, before I continued: “How he got that gig will forever mystify me, I mean, I’m a way bigger gamer than him, but I didn’t get it. Geez, I mean, I’ve played the latest Final Fantasy, Esperion Online, Star Citizen, Thousand Fists, even old school games like Tekken!”

Matthew looked over at me, “Oh, I didn’t realise you played Tekken? What’s your line up?”

“Oh, umm, Xiaoyu and…” I said, thankful for the change in conversation, then proceeded to arch my back and whip my head back around, stumbling a little over my baggy pants, “Lei. I thumbed my nose like Bruce Lee. “What about you?”

“Hahaha, hope you fight better in game!” he jibed. “My team is Hwoarang and Yoshimitsu,”

“Bring it on!”

The school bell rang.

“Well, I got to get something from my locker.”

“Yeah, me too.”

We trod past the assembly hall towards campus. Gum littered the pavement all the way to the doors. Why do I even have to go to school? I mean, what are we even learning? How is knowing the degrees in an isosceles triangle or what the value of x or y is going to help me? “What have you got first period”?

“I’ve—” he said, but a stocky kid barged his way through us and knocked Matthew aside before he could finish his sentence. The next moment, the stocky kid banged into the lockers and crumpled to the floor.

You have attempted to use Dragon Cannon on Blake. You are unskilled.

What?! Oh shit, what have I done? Why did I even do that? Stupid reflexes! Cool it, Van Dam…

“Bro! Cho’King just martial arts’ed you!” the stocky kid’s friend said, snickering.

“You fucking punch me?” he slowly stood up. His fist was tight and his steps heavy. I saw it coming but just stood there caught in the headlights. Whack. His fist clocked me right in the jaw. It didn’t really hurt, but I could feel my heart swell and my eyes glisten. I wanted to block and deflect and throw counters, but all I could seem to do was flail wildly while he went to town on me.

“Hey Blake, he’s the one who asked out Catherine,” one of his lackey friends said, bringing the assult to a thankful pause. My lip was about two sizes bigger and it was hard to see out one of my eyes.

“Woah ho ho, boys, is this really the guy? Fainty-McFainty little Cho’King.”

I swear they held him back a couple of years, because he is just stockier than the rest of us.

“Did you actually ask Catherine out?” he glared at me with a wicked smile. Huh?! Is he pissed off or happy? What was the point of all this?

“Ahh, yeah I did,” I mumbled, rubbing the blood off my lip that already seemed to be healing. Wait what?

“Yeah right!” he blurted. “Catherine?!” he called out across the hallway.

There she was, behind me—the most majestic girl in school. Oh my god, this is the worst day of my life… Why didn’t I wag today?

“Good morning, Blake.” She closed her locker, clutching her text books against her chest. “He did call me, but I told him that I didn’t really know him.”

Blake and his crew cracked it, their laughter like hammers, pile driving me into the hallway floors. Blake recovered. “You didn’t tell him you’re actually my girlfriend?” It was a verbal kick to the guts, more painful than anything he could physically do to me.

She looked to her best friend Taylor and giggled. “Don’t be mean Blake.”

His lackeys laughed at him. “Don’t be mean Blake!” they said with a girly tone.

Blake’s eyes went wild. “How’s this for mean!” Blake gut-punched his lackey, and the poor kid folded in on himself.

One of Blake’s lackeys cackled. “Blake, check this out!” he called out from behind me. Damn, when did he get behind me? Wait… what’s that in his hands? My bag was open?! I swung round, gripping my backpack tightly. “Hahaha, who even uses paper anymore?” he continued with.

I reached out. “Hey, give that back please?”

“Gimme that,” Blake snatched it, “‘Thousand Fists Theory…’” he read aloud, laughing “What is this nerd crap?! Oh, fuck me dead, it keeps going!”

The public stoning continued.

“…reading opponents can be broken down into one primary method and two secondary methods—”

“Blake, stop, it’s obviously private,” Catherine said, coming to my aid, but I slumped further into myself, letting my overgrown hair hide my face.

“How can I stop, this is some shit here!”

Oh my god, I bet he doesn’t even know who Hemingway is… Please just finish the social execution.

“…the primary method is by pattern recognition, and a player’s skill can be determined by how many times they need to see the particular skill before they are able to react to it by blocking or other more effective manoeuvres. For example, an intermediate player may respond by blocking a low kick after seeing it five times, whereas a more advance player will be able to respond to it correctly instantly, by dodging or countering.”

He stopped but stared at it for a moment, and his eyes widened for a second. Was he getting it? Wow, maybe he is also a player. Maybe we just need to play games together and he’ll stop bullying me.

Then he looked pissed again. “You really are a massive dorkous-ma-lawkous. No wonder she doesn’t want to go out with you!” The hallway erupted in a fit of laughter. Maybe not…

Holy crap, why are there so many people here? Wait, oh no, no-no-no-no-no, please no… My eyes swelled, cheeks glistened, and tears fell to the floor.

Someone yelled out, laughing, “Cho’King is crying!” The laughter got louder.

Only a miracle could save me. The school bell rang again through the hallways. The gods have shone their light on me!!!

Thud. “Enjoy the dead arm, loser!” Blake’s lackey proclaimed. Another fist came low, my face tightened, and abs tensed. Blake’s fist hit nothing but muscle, his eyes went wide, and it looked like his whole world was crumbling for a second, until he just glared at me. “Fucking loser! After school, you’re dead!” He glared some more and pushed me. I hit the lockers and slid down, the floor never felt so inviting. Knees cradled and wet with tears, I sat as the hallway returned to quiet.