Yes..but

You’re not about to let this scrawny little punk keep you down. With a surge of raw determination, you plant your feet firmly on the cold mat, using every ounce of strength in your legs to push upward. Your hands, already clawing at his sweaty arm, find a momentary gap as you wedge your fingers between his forearm and your throat. With a guttural growl, you twist your body hard to the side, using your momentum to break his headlock. His grip slips, and you stagger back a step, gasping for air, your chest burning from the strain.But before you can fully capitalize on your escape, the kid lunges forward with a feral grin, not giving you a second to recover. His bony hands grab at your wrist, yanking you towards him as he tries to reassert his control. "Not so fast, shorty!" he snaps, his voice sharp and mocking, the earlier smugness now mixed with a hint of irritation at your resistance. His other hand reaches for your shoulder again, aiming to pull you back into another hold. You can still feel the lingering heat of his body near yours, the faint brush of his bulge against your thigh as he closes the distance, his breath hot and quick from the exertion. The crowd’s noise spikes, egging on the chaos as they sense the fight’s intensity ramping up. Your neck still throbs from the headlock