NOVEL NEXT CHAPTER 21: The Commitment
Atlas and Alicia stood at the front of the room, facing the fifteen remaining recruits. The atmosphere was tense; everyone could feel that something significant was about to happen. The first week of training was almost over, and now it was time to address the future.
“Well, you all can see what's going on here,” Atlas began, his voice steady but firm. “There’s two gone already. I hope you haven’t been slacking because we are going to keep making cuts. One thing we thought about, though, was this one-week trial was a little too short, so we're going to make it longer.”
A murmur rippled through the group, a mixture of confusion and unease. The recruits had put their lives on hold for this one week—jobs, family, friends—all sidelined for a shot at something greater. But now, Atlas was saying it wasn’t enough? How much longer would this trial go on? And when would the contracts finally kick in?
Atlas could see the worry in their faces and decided to address it head-on. “Hey, I know you've got issues and things to deal with. That’s why I know this next part’s going to be a little bit easier for you. We’re setting you up in apartments and starting the contracts now.”
There was a collective pause as the recruits processed this information. Starting contracts now? Some of them had mentally prepared to be in limbo for a while longer, but this sudden shift brought a mix of relief and apprehension.
“That’s right,” Atlas continued. “We were initially going to offer ten contracts, but now we’re going to offer fifteen. Every one of you is signed, but five of you are going to go on the secondary team. Reserves, backup—you know what I’m talking about. The secondary team and the first team will now be moving into apartments. We’ve set up a new dorm block just for you, and that’s where you’re going to be staying.”
Some of the recruits exchanged glances. Apartments sounded better than dorms, but then Atlas dropped the next bombshell.
“Now, they’re just apartments, not jails. You can go in and out, visit your friends and family. The only thing is, there’s going to be a strict curfew of 9 p.m.”
A few recruits visibly balked at that. A curfew? For adults? It seemed ridiculous.
“That’s right,” Atlas said, reading the room. “For the next two years—until August, two years from now—you are going to be living in these dorms. We’re going to be training you as a team to build trust, reliability, and teamwork. So if you can’t commit to those two years in a dorm, this is, again, a good time for you to bow out. Our gym's a little different from what the rest are doing, so if you want to leave, no hard feelings. You've done great until now. Take some time to think about it. But first, let me show you your contracts.”
The recruits perked up at the mention of contracts, curious to see how much money they would be making. They knew they wouldn’t be landing million-dollar deals—not yet, anyway—but they were hopeful for something substantial. The contracts were far from substantial, as they would soon find out.
Atlas handed out the contracts, and as the recruits flipped through the pages, the initial excitement quickly soured. The pay was set at $500 a month. And if they made the final ten, their pay would increase to a mere $700 a month.
*Ooh, a bump of two hundred bucks, should I spend all of that at once on a new Lambo?* thought Igor, a Russian recruit. His inner greedy hamster was saying, Nyet! Nyet!
Whispers of disbelief spread through the room. How were they supposed to survive on that? Isabella’s mind raced as she did the math. She was an executive chef, making more than $700 per gig, and her savings were earmarked for retirement. If she took two years off, her chef career could very well be over. The years of networking, the building of a clientele of influential, wealthy patrons—gone.
Wilfredo, on the other hand, didn’t mind. To him, the offer was a dream come true. He only cared about training, eating, and fighting. The money was secondary to his passion.
Wang Bo, a fighter who had flown in from Asia on a travel visa, thought it over. He hadn’t planned on returning home anytime soon, so this arrangement suited him just fine. Training, free room and board, and a shot at a future in professional fighting? He was in.
Not everyone was as enthusiastic. Some recruits had left comfortable lives, well-paying jobs, or stable homes. For them, the prospect of two years in a dorm, with a curfew no less, was daunting. The uncertainty of the future, the risk of failure—it weighed heavily on their minds.
*Do I really want to do this?* Isabella wondered, her thoughts swirling. *Am I ready to gamble everything on a dream?*
The tension in the room was thick as Atlas noticed the discontent and addressed it directly. “All right, I know you're looking at the money, but I want to point out two things. You’re going to have dorm rooms to live in, and we’re providing you the food and the training for free. What are you going to be spending your money on? Especially considering that most of your time is going to be in the gym.”
The logic made sense, but the recruits still weren’t entirely convinced. Honestly, Atlas could have had the gym pay more. Alicia and the board were super surprised, but he had a reason for the low pay. He needed people who made this a priority. Hungry people. Desperate people who would give it their all.
Isabella bit her lip, weighing her options. The others were clearly weighing their options too.
Atlas continued, “One other thing to look at in that contract—most gyms and coaches will take up to 10% of all your earnings. We’re not. We’re taking 3%. That’s right, 3%. Because we believe that the money we’re paying you is nothing. It’s just an advance. That’s right, your contract’s an advance. If you don’t make it as a professional fighter, you can keep it. But when you do make it, we’re taking that money right back out of the 3%. So when you make your hundred thousand dollar fights, your million dollar fights, or a huge sponsorship, I don’t think you’re going to be caring about the seven hundred bucks anymore.”
The room went silent as the recruits considered his words. The offer, while not immediately lucrative, had long-term potential. The five hundred bucks a month suddenly seemed like a small price to pay for the possibility of future wealth and success.
Atlas took a step back, letting the information sink in. “All right, take some time. Think about the whole crazy deal, and if you don’t want to sign, that’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. And hopefully, out of the fifteen of you, all fifteen show up.”
The recruits filed out, some looking determined, others uncertain. Isabella stayed behind, staring at her contract for a long moment before finally folding it and slipping it into her bag.
As the door closed behind her, Atlas and Alicia exchanged a look. They knew that not everyone would return tomorrow. The stakes were high, and not everyone was ready to take that leap.
But for those who did come back, the real journey was just beginning.
The next morning, out of the fifteen, only fourteen came back. And the one that didn’t come back? That person surprised John, Atlas, and Alicia.