Damon exhaled through his nose and wiped his face with a towel. He didn't speak.
He sat still, jaw tight, elbows on his knees as he watched the screen. His foot bounced once, then stopped. He caught himself.
He always stayed calm. That was something people admired in him, something even he prided himself on. But now, watching this fight unfold, that calm was wearing thin.
José was frustrating him.
Not because he was losing. He wasn't. José was doing well enough.
He had the better hands, better movement, better control of the space. But that wasn't the point.
Damon could see the cracks forming in Dorian Vega's defense, the openings hanging wide for just a second or two.
Any top fighter would have taken those chances. Damon would have. He didn't say that with arrogance. It was just fact.
But José… hesitated.
He got close, then stopped short. He landed a clean shot and stepped back instead of stepping in.