Chapter 2 - Boss

Mr. Syvone walked calmly after closing the door and to the room full of boxes and grab one of them. He walks into the office and sits in his chair. He opens the box and pulls out stacks of cash. He begins to count through them as he turns on the television to watch the news or any major fights that are happening tonight. After countless hours of counting the green paper, writing the amount in a notebook, and labeling the stacks, Trainer Tony walked into the office.

"Boss, everyone is out of the building and Tyrone is here with some money," Tony said, playing with a couple of hundred dollar bills in his hand.

"Let him in," Mr. Syvone said, lighting a cigar into his mouth with his hands together. Tyrone walked into the office. He was a bigger man, similar to Martin in height but muscular like Adrian. He had a black durag on his head, wearing a gold chain, and wearing a black tank top and shorts. It revealed a lot of tattoos covering the thug's dark skin, it ranged from flower design to one in the inside part of his right ear that says "BSG" on it. Behind were two other men holding small bags. They were smaller than Tyrone, one had a buzz cut and the other had dreadlocks. The one with the buzzcut threw his bag on the desk.

"Adam, next time one of these hooligans throw something at all, kill them right where he stands," Mr. Syvone says as he looks past the men to Trainer Dudley walks through the door leaning on it with his arm crossed. Tyrone looked at his underling that threw the bag and punched him in the face, knocking a tooth out.

"Never do that shit again, you dumbass motherfucker," Tyrone screamed at the man. "Do you not know how powerful that man is?"

"No, I don't Tyrone this is my first time here at all and I…" the man with the buzz cut muttered out of his mouth seeing that Tyrone's face is getting madder and madder.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Tyrone screamed at the man. "That right there is Mr. Syvone, the man that allows us to use the street as a safe place for him."

"My apologies, Mr. Syvone," the man with the buzz cut murmured out.

"Just don't do it again and there won't be any problems," Mr. Syvone said as he looked up to Tyrone. "How much money did you bring me?"

"This week is one thousand," Tyrone said as he looked at his other underling with the dreadlocks. The dreadlock bearer walked up with the bag and placed it down on his desk and walked back to where he was in a nervous way. Mr. Syvone grabbed the bags and opened them showing a variety of bills. He shifts through the bills money and begins to count.

"Yep this is one thousand dollars," Mr. Syvone says as he places the stack on the desk. "Go grab the box on the left back corner of that room, Oscar sent it like a day ago. Right, Adam?"

"Sounds about right, boss," Adam said as he directed Tyrone to one of the boxes. Tyrone grabbed the box and brought it back to Mr. Syvone's office. Tyrone opened the box to show it being weed all packaged and covered with plastic bags. Tyrone gave the box to the man in the buzzcut.

"Thank you for the business, Mr. Syvone," Tyrone said as he walked out the door bumping into Adam as the other men followed behind him. Adam closed the door as he heard Tony from outside the door talking with the men.

"Why do we even work with those damn thugs anyways," Adam muttered underneath his breath. Mr. Syvone seemed to notice this and took a deep intake of his cigar.

"Why the hell would we deal drugs to people when there are gangs that have problems getting a safe consistent source of it. It is called business, I don't really like Tyrone nor do I hate him. Their leader is the only one I like, he ran this group of people into becoming the most feared gang in the city," Mr. Syvone said as he let the smoke out of his mouth, writing into his notebook. "Besides, we profit from them doing the hard work of selling drugs. Besides, the only things we have to do is allow them a safe place on our street, buy the drugs, and don't snitch on them which we have never done anyway," Mr. Syvone said as he leaned back into his chair.

"Fair enough and I drive into the city to work here, isn't Oscar the owner of the Sloshed Shell?" Adam asked as sat down on the big table.

"He does, he grows weed upstairs in his bar, the smell of some of his strong as fuck alcohol hides the smell." Mr. Syvone said, shaking his head in disgust. "His bar is alright but if I was a cop I would completely understand why he would grow weed on the side to make more money."

"Yeah, there is only like a couple of beers and even food that I would eat and I love to go to bars," Adam said, chuckling to himself with a sense of nostalgia in his tone.

"Speaking of Oscar, did we give him the money for the box?" Mr. Syvone asked as he turned to Adam.

"Greg brought him the money at least that's what I thought was happening," Adam said pondering to himself.

"GREG! Come to the office please," Mr. Syvone screamed while coughing at the end. Greg Whisk opened the door with a beer in his hand.

"What do you need, boss?" Greg asked as he took a sip of his alcohol.

"Did you pay Oscar his money?" Mr. Syvone began.

"Last time we were late paying Oscar, I had to give some extra money to Tyrone's boss when we asked one of his men to show up with the money being late and I don't want to deal with that situation again," Mr. Syvone told to Greg in an agonizing tone

"Yeah, I paid him the money," Greg said with confidence.

"Are you sure?" Mr. Syvone questions the younger man.

"Boss, I gave him the envelope that you normally give me," Greg rebuttal back to his boss.

"Okay, if I receive any news from Oscar asking where his money is, you are getting a pay deduction, you understand?" Mr. Syvone said in a stern tone.

"Yes, boss," Greg said, still with his confidence and alcohol in hand. Mr. Syvone calms down, going back to smoking his cigar. Tony walks into the room with a laptop in his hand and he looks excited.

"Boss, I think I got an offer that will excite you!" Tony exclaims as he places his laptop on the desk.

"What is it, Tony?" Mr. Syvone asked with a puzzled look on his face. Tony opens the laptop, logs in, and turns it around to show what appeared on the screen. On it shows an email and on it says "Amateur MMA Tournament - UFC scouts will be in attendance BRING BEST AMATEUR FIGHTERS". "We need to bring Demetrius down there, and any other fighters that we have. Is there any limit to fighters that can join?" Mr. Syvone asked Tony now that his interests had peaked.

"I emailed the guys, it is a sixteen-man bracket and since we have a team name we are limited to one per weight," Tony explained with a grin on his face. "And the UFC scouts being there means we can get a lot of attention. Maybe Demetrius can go pro."

"And if he goes pro, we can then profit even more off of him," Me. Syvone says with a wicked grin across his face.

"And how the hell are we going to do that, boss?" Tony said surprised by the statement. "You know how hard it is for him to stay loyal to the gym right now."

"Well it's not really that difficult, you know his girlfriend is

Joseline," Mr. Syvone said still with a grin on his face.

"But I like her work as one of the managers for us," Tony said in a disappointed tone. "Please tell me you are just going to fire her or some shit like that."

"Well that depends on how Demitruis wants this to go," Mr. Syvone says as he continues to smoke his cigar. "If he is loyal nothing happens, but he tries to be disloyal which is what I might expect given him being a young rising amateur star, then something is going to happen."

"I understand boss," Tony says as he turns the computer. "Who else are we going to bring? The tournament is in two months."

"Simple, we have the fighters in each weight fight against each in our own little tournament, we probably put pads on them to reduce the likelihood of injuries," Mr. Syvone says with a confused look by the question he was just asked.

"Ah ok, I would rather it be padless but I understand why that would not be beneficial to use, still same rules?" Tony said with disappointment in the answer he got from his boss.

"Of course, Tony," Mr. Syvone said. "We will probably start tomorrow or well today technically," Mr. Syvone chuckles as he looks at the clock and sees it at twelve-ten AM. "Is Adam, Greg, and Scott still here?"

"They are not boss," Tony reaffirmed to Mr. Syvone. "They left like thirty minutes ago."

"Ah ok, think it should be time for us to go," Mr. Syvone says as he packs up his things.

"Alright have a goodnight boss," Tony says as he grabs his laptop. "See you tomorrow."

"Have a goodnight Tony," Mr. Syvone said as Tony closed the door. Mr. Syvone cleans up his desk and walks out of the office, into the quiet box room. He checks the boxes. After he concluded his check he walks out of the room and into the now deserted gym, with the only sound that can be heard being Mr. Syvone's own breath. He walks past it to get out of his gym. He locks the door and walks up the alleyway stairs that lead to his establishment. As he walks past the Sloshed Shell, he sees Oscar behind the bar through the window. Mr. Syvone walked into the lively bar filled with drunk people, having fun, being incapable of anything, some flirting with equally drunk people, others looking like they might cause problems if anyone looked at them the wrong way. Mr. Syvone walked up to the bar to greet Oscar, this lanky Hispanic man with tattoos of the sea on his hand, his hair looks well kept with hints of grey in the mix of his deep black color. His facial hair still with its normal look, controlled chaos that gives it a certain charm.

"Hey Oscar, did Greg give you that sponsorship money for the month," Mr. Syvone asks as Oscar is serving a drunk attractive brunette some more alcohol.

"Hola Mr. Syvone, yeah Greg gave me the sponsorship money," Oscar says in his Spanish accent. "You want a drink? It is on the house."

"No thank you, I am good, appreciate it though," Mr. Syvone says as he gets off the seat, and walks to the door. "Have a good rest of the night, Oscar." He says with a wave. Oscar waves back as Mr. Syvone walk out of the bar, under the cool summer night, he walks on the sidewalk back to his apartment. Whistling as the sounds of cars driving past him. Into the darkness, the only thing that protects him is his reputation. Everyone knows that you don't mess with Mr. Syvone, he owns the street he calls his business and an opportunity for other cruel business people to gain wealth through any means necessary.