MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

In a cozy, mid-income house, a man was whistling a happy tune as he cooked a meal in the kitchen.

The aroma of sizzling vegetables and savory spices filled the air, making the space feel warm and inviting.

If Damon had been there, he would have recognized the man as the cab driver he had spoken to one night.

The man's face lit up with a happy smile as he stood in front of the sink, gazing out the window at the night sky.

The kitchen lights reflected off the windowpane, casting a warm glow on the man's face.

His eyes, a deep brown, sparkled with a mix of happiness and concern.

As he stirred the pot, his expression changed, and a look of pain reflected on his face.

He muttered to himself, "Where are you Eddie?" His voice was low and worried, and his eyes seemed to cloud over with concern.

The man's hands moved mechanically, stirring the pot, as his mind wandered.

He stood there, frozen, lost in thought, as the whistling stopped.

The sound of the door opening startled him, and he turned towards it, his eyes widening slightly.

He smiled wryly to himself, feeling a mix of emotions.

He dried his hands on a towel, the fabric soft against his skin, and made his way to the front door.

As he reached the door, he saw his son, Edward, entering the house.

Edward's face was wounded, with bruises and cuts visible on his skin.

His eyes looked tired, with dark circles underneath. The man's heart sank, seeing his son like this.

He stood there, frozen, unsure of how to feel. He wanted to be angry, but he also felt a deep concern for his son's well-being.

He looked at Edward's face, taking in every detail. The bruises were a deep purple, and the cuts looked red and sore.

Edward's eyes avoided his, looking down at the floor instead.

..

Edward trudged through the front door, his body aching from the fight.

He had heard Mr. Steele's words echoing in his mind, fueling his determination to train harder, and not waste his 2nd chance.

As he entered the house, he unlocked the door and closed it behind him, the sound of the lock clicking into place.

He turned to face his father, who stood in front of him, his eyes filled with concern.

Edward cursed under his breath, "Fuck, not this again." He tried to walk past his father, but his dad caught his hand, holding it firmly. "Tell me you're seeing this, Eddie," his father spoke, his voice laced with pain and worry.

Edward felt all of the emotions in the room, but tried to brush them off.

He closed his eyes tightly, but winced as his left eye, which had a deep cut, throbbed in pain. "Tell me you see yourself, Edward," his father's voice was harsher now, demanding an answer.

Edward's eyes snapped open, and he looked at his father, his gaze meeting the older man's.

He saw the worry and fear etched on his father's face, and felt a pang of guilt.

Edward didn't want to have this conversation, but his dad wouldn't let him leave. "What do you want me to say, huh?" Edward asked, his voice rising in frustration.

His dad's eyes pleaded with him, "I don't want you to say anything, I want you to stop, I want you to stop all this fighting, this...this..." He stuttered, unable to find the words.

Edward yelled back, his voice echoing through the room, "This what, dad? You think I enjoy getting punched? You think I enjoy coming here like this? I do this for you, for all of us!" His dad felt a surge of guilt, seeing the pain and desperation in Edward's eyes.

Tears threatened to fall as he looked at his son's face, the bruises and cuts a stark reminder of the harm he was causing himself.

Edward's voice cracked, "I've said it before, I won't leave. You may think that because you're old, we don't need you, but she needs you, dad. We already lost mom, do you think she can take another loss?"

Edward's father took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He walked away, back to the kitchen, where the smell of smoke from the burning food filled the air.

"You're right, she can't afford to lose me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But Eddie, have you thought that she can't afford to lose you as well?" He disappeared into the kitchen

He turned he silence that followed a difference to the earlier yelling. Edward stood there, frozen, his mind thinking about his father's words.

As he thought about his father's words, Edward knew they were true. He felt a sense of responsibility wash over him.

Just then, a small head peeked around the doorframe, with her piggie tails and curious eyes. Edward's face lit up with a warm smile as he knelt down to greet her.

"Hey Lulu," he said softly, opening his arms wide. Lulu ran into his embrace, and Edward hugged her tightly, feeling a surge of love and protection.

This little girl was his everything, his reason for fighting, his livelihood. He would never regret anything as long as she was by his side.

Lulu looked up at her brother with glassy eyes, concern etched on her small face. "Does it hurt?" she asked, pointing to the bruises and the cut on Edward's face.

Edward chuckled, trying to reassure her, but he could see the sadness deep in her eyes.

"No, Lulu, it doesn't hurt," he said gently. "You wanna know why?" Lulu nodded, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Edward lifted her up, and she yelped with delight. "Well, because I got my little monster here with me," he said, smiling warmly.

Lulu giggled, snuggling into her brother's chest. Edward felt a sense of peace wash over him.

He stood up, holding Lulu close, and said, "Come on, let's get you ready for dinner." He walked towards the kitchen,

Lulu's small hands wrapped around his neck, her face nestled in the crook of his shoulder.

The warmth of the kitchen enveloped them, filled with the smell of burned food and the sound of their father's quiet sobs.

"How about I go show you something before we eat." He said, turning around with a guilty look.