Chase woke up early to make Mikey some eggs for breakfast. Lately he had been working every hour he could get his hands on, and going to the gym after work, he had some serious guilt about not spending time with his little brother.

Before this month when he was finally cleared for the gym again the two had been inseparable. Despite the ten year age gap, Chase knew Mikey needed a strong role model. No kid brother of his was going to end up in a gang or on the streets. One O'Riley in the clink was enough. It wouldn't become a cycle.

"I need to go to the Boys and Girls Club next Saturday, it's buzz day. I'm leveling up. Can you come?"

Chase recognized the look Mikey was giving, the eyes ready for disappointment. The same look that Chase had given his father for years, until he stopped asking all together. Dreams of spending his one day off at the gym vanishing. Somehow making up for his dad's bad decisions and failures was single handedly killing his dreams.

"Of course kiddo. You just concentrate on our mojo, I'll take care of the rest."

Mikey's smile erased any question about choices, one of them would be a winner. One of them would make it out of the neighborhoods, and Chase would make dang sure it was Mikey.

"Thanks Chase! I'm gonna be just like you when I grow up. I'm gonna be a famous boxer too, and then I'm gonna be a pro wrestler!"

"You know what's better than using your muscles for a living? Using your brain. Get ready for the bus, and don't get in trouble today."

He handed Mikey three crumbled dollars that were promptly shoved in a pocket. As Mikey's arms wrapped around his legs Chase sighed, somehow he would make everything work.

When the bus pulled away he cleaned up the kitchen and circled Saturday on the calendar. Another gym day lost, at this rate he was never going to be able to make the prelims. That meant another three months of scraping food off plates and split hands from dishes.

Chase felt his fists curl and pushed the feelings back down to that place he saved them. Outside of the ring there was no safe place to let go. Mikey needed a level headed role model. With a drunk for a mother and and a father in prison Chase was Mikey's only chance.

The bell over the diner door rang as he pushed it open. The smell of disinfectant and eggs caused the bits of breakfast he'd eaten with Mikey to roll like a Blue Angel at an air show. As he punched in and grabbed a clean apron for the day he heard Mr. Jenkins yelling at Todd the busboy. Todd should be used to it. He was a nervous kid who was constantly dropping dishes and the more he dropped, the more nervous he became. It was a vicious cycle that neither Todd nor Mr. Jenkins could break.

The whole diner worked on a tightrope. Mr. Jenkins used fear and intimidation to try to increase morale and productivity. It was an endless loop of working hard with your head down or getting a lashing and having your job threatened. Chase was good at keeping his head down, it was the one thing in life he'd actually learned. That, and that bullies like Mr. Jenkins saw it as a game.

Chase knew the game well, his father had always used bullying to get results. By the time Chase was shuffled to the boys and girls club after school he was a twelve year old ball of anger and resentment that had no self esteem. When the club offered boxing lessons Chase only signed up to stay away from home as long as possible.

There was no way anyone could have known that boxing would become an outlet for all the anger and resentment his father had built through years of slaps and criticism. Or that one day Chase would save his mother's life by using those skills to beat the crap out of his father before he actually got the chance to finish the job of killing his wife in a fit of anger after losing a bet he couldn't pay off.

Chase heard Todd apologizing - using the same stammering lines he always had ready and took the opportunity as a way of scooting past the office commotion and made his way to the sink. At least as dishwasher and prepper he'd managed to stay off the radar and out of the old man's office, so far.

The Friday rush came and left in a blur. Dishes came and went with lightening speed and Chase could feel his back growing knots. When two o'clock came and he finally stepped away for a break he went to the back alley.

Using the fire escape platform he ran through sets of pull ups and stretches to stimulate the muscles the last few hours had locked up. Lana came out for her hourly cigarette and handed him a sandwich.

"Thanks Lana" he said kissing her on the cheek as he swiped it off the paper towel.

"Just remember me when you're famous. I like sports cars. Red ones, and visit this shit hole, it needs something exciting."

"Deal. But I'm only having the coffee. And your pie."

She lit her cigarette and looked toward the street. Chase knew the look. It was on the face of everyone he knew, the look of someone trapped but wishing to bolt.

"You still writing?"

"Nah, I think winning that contest was my fifteen minutes. And it was enough."

"Bullshit. You're good Lana. Don't give it up. There's a ticket with your name on it, you just have to get through the line."

She crushed the cigarette under her foot and immediately reached for another.

"You know what I love about you Chase?"

"My good looks and sparkling personality?"

"You're such a dreamer. You grew up with nothing, you've been to hell and back again. You wash dishes at a diner that most people wouldn't be caught dead at, and you still believe in fairy dust."

"Not fairy dust, elbow grease. That's where you're confused. No one is gonna make it happen for you Lana. You have to make it happen yourself."

He shoved the last bite of the sandwich in his mouth and headed back to the sink. Only four more hours and he'd be at the gym totally doable.