Daily Drama (In American TV Shows)

"Filler" Chapter, It's exam season again (help please!!!). 

There are important things for the plot, but not much actual development.

Enjoy.

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The tornado wind had somehow damaged the electrical system in our neighborhood enough that we didn't have electricity for the rest of the week.

Since everyone's refrigerators in the neighborhood obviously weren't working, a lot of meat could spoil, and if there's one thing I learned from Texas, it's that nobody would allow that to happen. As a result, communal barbecue dinners became a regular thing during those days. Strangely, so did the "programming" to watch the "show" that Case and I put on daily.

At first, it was very awkward to practice ground techniques with Case while people watched, but as the days passed, I found it quite amusing. The neighborhood women's competition for the "best seats" and Case's discomfort with the way they stared at him became a highlight. Thanks to Georgie and Meemaw, I also learned that people were betting on how many times I could tap Case out during practice, which motivated me to try even harder. By the end of the week, the pathetic numbers had improved, at least a little.

Over the weekend, I went with Mom and my siblings to the shopping area, mainly to do a load of laundry at the laundromat. While the washing machines did their job, Gabe and Teddy went next door to the movie rental store to see if there was anything interesting.

Meanwhile, Mom ran into other women from our street who apparently had the same idea, and she happily chatted with them, leaving me with nothing to do.

When I left the laundromat intending to find my siblings and look for some interesting movies with them, I bumped into Randy, the guy from the boxing gym who would make up anatomical parts to scare people into buying equipment, carrying several cardboard boxes in his hands.

"Randy," I said, greeting him. I remembered how much fun it had been to mess with him when I first met him.

"You've got the wrong guy. I'm not Randy," he said, suddenly stopping, balancing the seemingly empty boxes in his hands to keep them from falling. He was obviously lying and oddly nervous.

"Wha–" I tried to say.

"Does this 'Randy' owe you money?" he interrupted, cutting off my question.

"No," I replied slowly, watching as Randy's worried expression immediately returned to normal.

Did he owe money to someone?

"Great," Randy said, nodding, clearly relieved, and began walking again as if our interaction had never happened.

"Okay," I said, amused as I watched him carefully walk toward the door of his gym, trying not to drop the boxes.

When Randy tried to open the door to his place, he dropped all the boxes stacked in his arms. It was an incredibly funny sight. Completely flustered, he picked up the boxes one by one from the ground, only for the door he had managed to open to close again. He then began trying to open the door with the boxes in his hands once more, dropping them again.

"Let me help you," I said, both impressed and amused, watching Randy repeat the cycle. Walking over to his side, I held the door open while he picked up the boxes again.

"Thanks," Randy said, for some reason surprised, as if he didn't understand the concept of kindness.

"Don't mention it," I replied, watching as Randy entered the place, which, upon closer inspection, was completely disorganized. "What happened here?" I asked, surprised. I had seen the place not too long ago, and now it looked completely different.

"The owner closed the place," Randy explained, throwing the empty boxes onto the gym floor, once again oddly avoiding the fact that he was the owner.

"Closed it?" I asked, confused.

"Yeah, he's going to sell it," Randy replied as he began packing things into the boxes.

He definitely owed someone money, probably someone dangerous… wait.

As I processed his words, I glanced around the place. It was possibly a little larger than the paved area of the vacant lot we used for training with Case. The walls were lined with gym equipment—far more than Case had and in much better condition.

"How much?" I asked, refocusing on Randy, who was still packing things into boxes.

"What?" Randy asked, confused, frowning.

"How much do you want for the gym, Randy?" I asked again, planting the idea in my mind that I could finally get a break from Case's grueling training sessions.

"I told you, I'm not Randy," Randy quickly said, "and I don't have time for games," he added irritably, probably assuming I didn't have the money to buy the place.

"I know someone who might be interested in buying it," I quickly lied, trying to get his attention. "Stop packing and wait here for ten minutes," I added, ignoring any further questions Randy might have as I rushed out of the gym.

Telling Mom I'd be back soon, I grabbed her car keys and left the shopping area.

"Where are you taking me?" Case asked curiously from the passenger seat of Mom's car as we headed back to the shopping area.

"I told you, it's a surprise," I said, cheerfully imagining what it would be like to finally have some peace at home.

We finally arrived at the gym. "Ta-da!" I said, opening the door to the place, grabbing Randy's attention as he continued folding and packing everything he used to scam people.

"I told you I don't have time for—" Randy started saying when he saw me but immediately went silent when he saw Case. He was clearly terrified.

"A gym?" Case asked, looking around the place.

"Not just a gym, a gym for sale," I quickly corrected, trying to sell the idea to Case. "Right, Randy?" I asked, widening my eyes dramatically as I looked at the man on the floor, still completely speechless.

"Ye-yeah," Randy replied nervously, standing up. "I'm selling the place and the equipment," he added, realizing Case wasn't one of the people he was so scared of.

"Well, good luck with that," Case said, nodding, completely disinterested, and turning to leave the place.

"Wha—Case!" I called out, following him. "It's a great opportunity," I said, standing in front of the muscular man, confused by his attitude.

"Look, PJ, I appreciate this, really," Case said, raising one of his hands and dropping the frown that seemed to be permanently on his face, "but I lived on that lot for a reason. I don't have the money to pay for something better, let alone for a place like this."

I knew Case didn't have the money. Heck, he charged us for lessons with a couple of bucks and a sack of potatoes. "You didn't let me tell you the best part—I'll buy it," I declared.

"I'm not a charity case," Case snorted, frowning once again, clearly offended.

"Charity? No," I exclaimed, surprised. "I'm talking about a partnership, fifty-fifty. We're going to open a gym," I continued, smiling excitedly.

"A gym?" Case asked, clearly not buying into the idea.

"Or a dojo, call it whatever you want," I replied. "We'd just need to get you more students, because obviously, you'd be the one teaching. And we'll set a real fee this time, no more sacks of potatoes," I said, making plans in my head. "We could compete in tournaments, grow the gym," I continued. Initially, the idea had come from wanting to avoid more grueling training sessions, but now it was slowly growing into a potential business.

"It's a great plan, PJ, but you don't have the money to buy this place, and I'm not going to take advantage of your parents' kindness any more than I already have," Case said, losing his frown and shaking his head slightly.

Oh, Case. "I have the money," I declared with complete confidence. I still had just over twenty thousand dollars in my savings account, and if absolutely necessary, I was sure I could get some funds from Warren.

"What?" Case asked, clearly incredulous.

"Come on, let's talk to Randy," I said, ignoring Case as I walked back into the gym, hoping internally that Case would follow. Thankfully, after a few seconds, Case walked in behind me.

Seeing our interest in buying his business, Randy immediately, and as I expected, started trying to inflate the price, clearly wanting to squeeze out as much as possible—basically, a scam.

"Randy, I know you're in financial trouble," I said, standing next to Case, who kept his eyes fixed on Randy, arms crossed, apparently flexing his biceps to intimidate him. "You probably owe money to someone dangerous," I declared, watching Randy's expression of surprise. Bingo! "Fifteen thousand dollars is the best deal you're going to get for this place and the equipment. I'm telling you, you won't find another buyer willing to take all this equipment," I added, gesturing around the place.

Looking at all the bags, even the ring in the gym, I saw Randy processing my words, tightly closing his eyes as he likely thought it over.

"That's fifteen thousand easy," I said, smiling as I slowly saw Randy's resolution. "You could leave town for a while with that," I added.

Thanks to my amazing negotiation skills—and certainly not the intimidating presence of Case by my side—Randy accepted the offer after thinking about it for a few minutes. He called his lawyer from a payphone, giving me time to return home and bring Bob, who was technically in charge of my savings account.

"A gym?" Bob asked, raising one eyebrow at me.

"Yeah," I replied easily. "I'd be in a partnership with Case. Basically, he'd do all the work while I get money for doing practically nothing. Don't tell him, but I feel like I'm taking advantage of him," I discreetly told Bob.

"Are you sure about this? It might not work out as you expect," Bob said, concerned.

"I'm sure," I responded resolutely.

"All right, it's your money," Bob said as he stood up from the couch, where he had been reading one of his magazines. "And this is your first business. If you do this, you're going to have to work," he declared with a mischievous smile, placing his hand on my shoulder.

"I can't teach, I'm just learning," I said nervously, following Bob as he got ready to leave the house. I barely had time in my schedule and couldn't afford to also work at the gym.

"Oh no, there are taxes, registrations, administration, and many other things that don't require you to teach someone how to punch a bag. You're going to have to work hard," Bob added, amused, as he opened the door to the house and winked at me.

I didn't like this anymore.

Letting Bob drive Mom's car, Case and I followed him in 'Debbie.' When we arrived back at the gym, Bob took a thorough look at everything Randy had shown us, much more meticulous than Case and I had been.

"I don't see any signs of rodents or other pests, but that door's lock needs to be replaced, possibly the whole door," Bob said seriously, running his hand over the wooden door in the surprisingly spacious storage room at the back of the building.

Randy, who had been nervously following Bob, suddenly calmed down when he saw a man in a cheap suit step out of a terrible car, flashing a wide grin.

"Randy, what a pleasure that you called," the man said with an unnervingly wide smile as he entered the gym and approached Randy.

"I think we could knock down that wall and practically double the gym's space," Bob said, slightly excited, while Randy spoke quietly with his lawyer, temporarily dropping his judgmental facade.

"And I could park my house back there," Case added. Though his face remained serious, I could sense a hint of excitement.

"Sure, you'd have everything right at hand—entertainment, food, laundry, and your job," Bob said cheerfully, patting Case on the shoulder, clearly more excited about the idea than anyone else.

"Shall we discuss the terms of the sale?" Randy's lawyer asked, interrupting whatever else Case or Bob had to say, his unsettling smile still firmly in place.

"Sure," Bob replied, regaining his serious demeanor instantly, losing the excited smile.

The days passed. Randy's lawyer had written up and sent a contract, but of course, we didn't sign it right away. Instead, Bob contacted his own lawyer to review it.

The electricity in our neighborhood came back, along with the obligation to attend school. Sheldon was more petulant than usual with the teachers, seemingly incredibly bored, only perking up whenever there was a chance to compete with me.

At the hospital, aside from my time with House in the clinic, I attended a few other interesting surgeries. Fortunately, with the help of the nurses, I managed to completely avoid Dr. Bergin's operating room.

Without realizing it, a couple of weeks had passed, and it was now the day the gym's ownership transfer would take place.

"Here you go, there are no other copies of the keys. This is for the new lock on the back door," Randy said as he handed me the keys after he and Bob, who was my legal guardian, finished signing and processing all the paperwork.

"Thank you, it was a pleasure doing business," I said formally, shaking the man's hand firmly, mimicking characters I'd seen in movies a few times.

"Yeah, sure," Randy replied, smiling at the check for fifteen thousand dollars, barely paying attention to me.

"Okay, see you around," I said, ignoring the man, who still seemed to be admiring the check in his hands, as I walked over to where Case and Bob were, standing by the gym's now-closed and dirty doors, which had seen no activity in recent days.

"We own a gym!" I said excitedly, tossing the keys to Case.

"You own the gym," Case replied with a slight smile of sarcasm as he opened the door.

"We've already discussed this; you can start making payments whenever you can until we both own it equally," I said, patting my new partner on the shoulder as I looked at the inside of our gym.

"Then we better get to work. There's a lot to do, and now we can clean up. I've missed enclosed spaces," Case said, returning the gesture with a sarcastic pat on my shoulder.

"As I said, hard work," Bob added with a smile, heading toward one of the nearby stores, a small supermarket. "I'll get some cleaning supplies."

Not long after we started cleaning the place, Tim arrived. "No way, a real dojo!" my gigantic friend said excitedly, standing in the doorway with a wide grin.

"It's real," Case said with a faint smile. "Grab those boxes and take them to the back," he added, immediately cutting off Tim's awe.

Bob, Tim, Case, and I finished cleaning the place relatively quickly, allowing us to start organizing the bags and other equipment, except for the ring, so we could set everything up.

Case, who had already parked his trailer in the alley behind the gym, stepped out for a moment while the rest of us began hanging the bags where they belonged.

"What's all that for?" Bob asked as Case walked in with a couple of tires and some rope in his arms.

"Training," Case replied with a faint smile.

"You know we have practically brand-new equipment, right?" I asked nervously, recognizing what all that stuff was for.

"It's important to stick to the basics. The bags are useful, yes, but they're not designed for everything. This is how I learned," Case explained, placing the gear in a corner. "I've got more stuff in the back," he added.

After several minutes, the gym was 'ready.' We still had to knock down the wall separating the storage room, but we decided to wait until we could hire a contractor to do it properly.

"It'll be ready by Monday," Case declared seriously, standing by the door and looking at the gym we had set up. Everything was almost in place and ready for 'clients,' except for Case's… unique additions.

Unlike how Randy had organized the gym, now with ropes, weights, gloves, wraps, bags, and Case's flags hanging up, the gym felt much more like a sports facility than a business. Case had no intention of selling sports equipment, which I could somewhat respect. Still, after looking over the gym's books—surprisingly well-kept, to be honest—I really would've liked to see a bit more income from the place, but hey, I'm fine with recovering my money slowly… I think.

"Well, go get ready. Let's begin," Case said, clapping his hands loudly as he walked to the center of the gym.

"What?" Tim and I asked in disbelief at the same time.

"We just finished setting everything up," Tim declared nervously, as exhausted as I was.

"And that's why I wasn't planning on being too tough on you. But since you're going to whine about it, I'm reconsidering," Case said sarcastically.

"I'll grab my stuff from my car," I said quickly, rushing out of the gym, ignoring Bob, who seemed very amused by the situation.

On Monday, two days after we finished preparing the gym, school went by as it had been lately. Brock, worrying me more each day, interacted less with us, basically just sitting quietly to eat his lunch without sharing his opinions.

"I really would've liked to come to your gym," David said disappointedly at the end of school. "But my mom banned me from it. She says, 'Football is already enough violence in my life,'" he added exasperatedly, imitating his mom's voice. I didn't know the woman, but I could understand where her concern came from. It was rare to find a family that wasn't Christian in Medford.

"Yeah, my mom threatened to send me to church every day after school if I tried to learn how to hit people, I tried to ask dad when she wasn't around, but it seems she has ears all over the house," Georgie said, equally disappointed. Unlike David's mother, I knew Mrs. Cooper, and that definitely sounded like something she'd do.

I had already spoken with Alan about it, and he had declined my offer on his own. I totally understood it, considering how his father made him train.

Thinking the best way to attract clients would be to advertise, I decided not to go to the hospital that day and, along with Case and Tim, went out to post flyers wherever we were allowed.

When we returned to the gym, we found a small group of people waiting outside.

"We heard the gym was reopening. Did Randy change his mind?" one of the men asked, amused, as Case unlocked the door.

"Oh no, he bought the place," I quickly replied, pointing at Case. We had decided it was best to present Case as the owner. It wouldn't be ideal for people to know a teenager owned the place. "New management," I added, inviting the group inside along with Tim.

Despite Medford being such a small town, the fact that we practically had no commercial competition meant that anyone who wanted to train would come here.

"What are you standing there for? You've got more free time today. Start ground and pound on that bag," Case ordered me with a frown, his tone completely different from how he spoke to the clients. "Tim, when you're done there, work on knees and elbows with the heavy bag," he added, looking at my giant friend, who was explaining the correct foot positioning to one of the clients.

Soon, the gym was filled with the sounds of punches and people talking. Case walked around the gym, patiently paying attention to anyone who needed help. "Switch with Tim," he ordered me, his attitude shifting abruptly as he passed by again. I could tell the visitors were intrigued by the unusual training methods Case had us doing, but in the end, they just wanted to learn boxing.

"I want to pay my membership and a month in advance," one of the trainees said excitedly after the session ended.

"Me too," added the others one by one.

"It's different when someone actually knows what they're teaching you," one of the men said, sweaty but cheerful, playfully nudging his friend.

As our first clients left the gym, the cash register no longer empty, and the books finally not in the red, I smiled as I approached Case and Tim. "Great job today," I said happily, patting Case on the shoulder.

"They're just learning boxing," Case said, surprisingly irritated.

"Well yeah, this used to be a boxing gym, and they're paying for it," I replied calmly. I remembered the warnings Case had given me when I first started training with him: 'I'll teach you what you need.' Surely, having to teach someone what they wanted instead of what they 'needed' went against his principles, but this was a business. "Later on, you can offer classes for other things, or a combination. We could call it mixed martial arts or something like that," I added.

"Yeah," Case replied, dragging out the word as he nodded slowly. "Well, let's start rolling. We've got a couple more hours before closing," he added with a malicious smile, patting Tim and me on the shoulders.

I really hoped the brutal training sessions would end once the gym opened. It was a big dream.

"Hey, about my membership and payments—" Tim started saying after a couple of hours of sparring, both on the ground and standing, as we were cleaning the 'dojo' by Case's orders.

"What you did today, helping Case show the basics to the clients, was great," I quickly said, interrupting him. I knew, from the state of his truck and the quality of his clothes, that Tim had some financial struggles. Paying for a membership and enrollment might not be easy for him. "I don't think I'm knowledgeable enough to teach anyone yet, and we certainly don't have the money to hire anyone for now, but if you're willing to keep doing it, we can count it as payment for your membership."

"Yeah, I'm going to need help," Case quickly added.

"Look, thanks, but—" Tim started again.

"And once we get more clients, I think we'll have the funds to pay you a salary. For now, it'll have to be in exchange for your membership. Sorry, Tim," I said quickly, cutting him off again. As long as I could avoid it, I would never charge my friends anything.

"All right," Tim replied with a smile, returning his attention to what he was doing.

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Author Thoughts:

As always, I'm not American, not a doctor, and not a fighter.

By the way, almost when I finished writing this chapter, I discovered, thanks to an Instagram reel, that it is a relatively normal thing for Americans who live in tornado zones to have gasoline generators at home. I don't know what things were like in the 90s so sorry about that, but as I said in the previous paragraph, I'm not American :D

With that said,

I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, please let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.

Thank you for reading! :D

PS: PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW.