Luciana

“Lucky” Luciana - Miami

The bassline from Luciana’s ringwalk music rattled the arena and echoed down the small, darkened concrete tunnel where she waited for her cue. So many fighters looked like balls of raw energy in these moments, but Luciana was all business. The sweat from her warm-up made her cold, and the white contender’s shorts and sports bra didn’t do much to counteract it. Push that out. She pressed the knuckles of her padded gloves together and closed her eyes. Training felt like a prison sentence. Walls closing in every day. Now, with the fight waiting at the end of this hallway, it was release day.

“Focus, mija.” Her dad grabbed her shoulders to steady her, but she immediately shrugged him off.

Luciana cursed under her breath, letting the loud music cover it. “That’s what I’m doing, papi.”

“Doesn’t look that way to me, you look like you’re on a sugar rush. Like that night.” Not the time! Not the time! He gently pet her tight brown braided hair in a move he always thought endearing, but she always found patronizing. Luciana cursed again, not bothering to hide it this time. She swatted his hand off.

“I’m not.” She insisted, her annoyance rising.

“She comes at your legs, what do you do?”

“Hammer her shoulders from above, sprawl on top of her.” Roberto loved dropping these little quizzes on her randomly - ‘If you can’t think clearly now, how can you do it in the octagon?’ He’d say. But now? When the fight is minutes away? Give it a rest!

“She comes at you high, right cross.”

“Crouch and kick out her lead leg.”

He touched her shoulders again, and this time she slapped his hands away.

“She retreats to the fence, low guard.” That one again.

“Don’t chase, cut her off and go for ring control.”

“You actually gonna do it this time?” He needled her. Trying to get under her skin. And it worked. No one can get under your skin like family.

“Yes, for the thousandth time, yes!”

“We’ll see.”

She’d had her shot last year, a ticket on a pay-per-view undercard. An overmatched little judoka who should have been easy pickings. A first round that played out exactly how they drew it up. Then, Luciana saw her opening in the second to move in for the kill. Baited. Slammed. Arm-barred. Tapped. Disgraced.

It took months before her promoter would return her calls, and months more before he found her this fight - a short-turn injury replacement against a nobody. But if she won… Maybe things would start to turn back around. And maybe he’d crawl outta my ass about it. He made plenty of mistakes in his day, why keep hanging this one over me? She scoffed. Roberto del Rio, the legend in his own mind.

“I just want you to be prepared.” Bullshit, he just doesn’t want me to be better than he was. Her makes everything about him - I’m even coming out to a remix of his ring walk song!

Luciana was about to turn on him and tell him exactly where he could stick his advice, but just then one of the assistants waved her forward for her cue. Ok, girl. War face. Everything is right on the other side of that door. He held up five fingers, counting down to her big second chance.

She made it to two.

—-

Ruby

Al’s voice boomed through the theater. “In the white trunks with black trim! 26 years old, standing 5 foot 7 with a 70-inch reach, weighing in at 135 lbs…! Fighting out of Miami, by way of San Juan! 'Lucky!' Luciana! del Riiiiiiiiiiiioooooooo!”

Hit her harder. Ruby channeled, using a significant chunk of her reserves to boost the power of the initial relaxation that all contestants received. After having to keep Sarah off him and everyone else off Vivian, if Luciana came at him, I don’t know if I could stop her right now. Ruby allowed herself the fantasy of watching Al’s eyes bulge out of his head as the woman choked her, but her reverie was broken by a loud thud coming from the green room.

“Hello?” Al called. The door to the back of the stage remained closed. “Ruby, you really pick the live ones, doncha?” He snarked at her.

“Shut it, Al.” In her exhaustion, Ruby’s professionalism was slipping badly. She headed to the back herself. Screw it. If Luciana’s waiting in there, I’m shoving Al at her and taking off.

Ruby had a different problem. Inside the dressing room, she found Luciana facedown and **** on the stained carpet.

“Congrats, baby! Your first professional knockout!” Al taunted as Ruby dragged the comatose woman out by her armpits. The audience murmured and laughed under their breath, but stopped dead when Ruby shot them a warning glance that screamed ‘Try me.’

“Luciana was the next hot Bantamweight contender. Emphasis on the was. Michael, in a moment of weakness, staked far more than he could afford on this so-called ‘sure thing.’ Sure wasn’t.” Al said. His attempt to continue the normal patter only exacerbated the humiliating spectacle. Ruby pulled her over to her stool with no offer of help from Al. As soon as Ruby sat her down, Luciana started to slump onto Vivian’s shoulder. The older woman was clearly not happy having to hold Luciana up, but she shifted so that Luciana’s head lay on her shoulder.

“And last but definitely not least…” Al gestured to his final card above the last empty stool, but instead of turning as the previous six, the card immolated and blew away as ash. “We have a very special surprise contestant for this season!” Al looked straight at Ruby. “And baby, you’re gonna love her.”

Oh no.