Chapter 4: Determination Strikes

After what had happened at the club, Oscar returned to his apartment, the echo of the music still resonating in his mind. He prepared to rest, aware that a day full of opportunities awaited him tomorrow. But before he drifted off into sleep, he felt the need to talk to someone.

He called his representative.

-Hi David. I just wanted to tell you that I'm back from my first day at work," Oscar said, trying to sound casual.

-Hey! That's great. And tell me, how was it for you? —David responded enthusiastically.

Oscar sighed.

"I don't have the job anymore... I was fired," Oscar said, trying to maintain a nonchalant tone.

-That? What did you do to not last a day? David asked, surprise evident in his voice.

Oscar was silent for a moment, searching for the right words. He didn't want to burden David with his problems.

—I just had some problems. Nothing important. "We'll talk later," he finally said, hanging up the phone.

Oscar went to sleep, feeling that the problem he had with Miranda was more complicated than he had imagined. As the night wore on, thoughts of how to approach the situation swirled in his mind.

"Tomorrow maybe... I can talk to her calmly," he said to himself, trying to find a ray of hope in the midst of the confusion.

The night passed in a deep sleep, as if fatigue gently embraced him. When he finally woke up, the morning welcomed him with excellent weather; the fresh air seemed to promise new opportunities.

Oscar stood up and stretched, feeling his muscles awaken along with him. Before diving into his day, he grabbed the Bible he kept by his bed. He knelt on his bed, opening the yellowed pages in front of him, as if each word was waiting to be read.

He began to pray for a few moments, asking God for strength to face the challenges that awaited him and thanking him for everything he had. At that moment, he felt an inexplicable calm; It was like every worry faded a little more.

He made the sign of the cross, stood up and took his Bible. He closed it gently and gave it a kiss, as if it were a symbol of gratitude for the guidance it gave him. Then, he put it back in its place, feeling that he carried a little piece of that faith with him.

She walked to her bag and pulled out a necklace with a cross on it. He placed it carefully; It was a constant reminder of his beliefs as he prepared to face the day.

"Well..." he whispered as he let out a deep sigh. It's time to face the day.

He prepared to train, as he normally did. He went out for a run, an activity that filled him with energy and mental clarity. Every step I took on the pavement was liberating; The fresh wind caressed his face and allowed him to breathe deeply.

As he ran, he admired the city awakening around him: the sounds of daily life began to fill the air. It was in those moments where he felt a special connection with everything around him; Every corner had a story to tell.

Finally, he finished his tour, arriving at the same park he had visited last time. The fresh air and birdsong made him feel at peace.

"I have to find a gym," he muttered to himself. I want to hit bags.

With renewed purpose, Oscar headed to a nearby gym. Upon entering, the smell of sweat and the sound of clanking weights greeted him. He approached the owner, explained that he was just coming to train for a while, and after paying a small fee, he managed to enter.

He walked to the punching bag, feeling how the energy of the place enveloped him. He took off his shirt, letting his muscles become visible; every fiber of his being seemed to vibrate with anticipation. He bandaged his hands precisely, as if he were preparing for a personal battle.

As he stood ready in front of the bag, he took a deep breath, feeling how the adrenaline began to flow through his veins. With each blow he delivered, he released not only physical energy, but also accumulated tensions; It was as if each impact brought him closer to a stronger version of himself.

—I must prepare myself mentally and physically; "I must be the best fighter," he murmured softly, like a mantra that drove him.

With each blow he gave the bag, the chain holding it resonated loudly, creating a symphony of determination. His blows were precise, each movement revealing the experience behind it.

Little by little, people in the gym began to observe him. His style was unique, a mix of power and technique that attracted attention. The sweat fell down his forehead, but instead of overwhelming him, he felt a deep tranquility when training; It was his moment of disconnection.

As he continued to strengthen his punches and kicks, a young boy on the other side looked at him in admiration. After a few moments of contemplation, he decided to approach Oscar. He stood next to him, watching carefully every blow he dealt.

Oscar noticed his presence and stopped the bag with one hand. He looked at the boy curiously and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

—Would you like to try it? —Oscar asked, inviting him to share that space full of energy.

"I don't think I can do it at your pace, honestly, I don't know how to do it," the boy said, with a shadow of disappointment on his face. Sometimes I decide not to hit the bags because I'm embarrassed; The fact that I can't hit well stops me. Do you compete?

Oscar watched him, noticing the insecurity in his eyes.

"I did..." he responded with a nostalgic tone.

-Wow! That's fantastic. Do you think you could teach me?

Oscar smiled kindly, but his expression turned serious for a moment.

—I would love to, but right now I don't have time. Every minute I have I take advantage of to train. —He approached the boy, tilting his head slightly towards him—. Don't be ashamed of who you are. Nobody is born knowing. We all start from scratch. Sometimes we have to face our problems alone and be our own teachers.

He patted her on the shoulder, exuding an air of camaraderie before turning to leave.

—Remember, every hit counts. "Don't be discouraged," he added as he walked away from the gym.

He left the gym, feeling the cool breeze caress his skin. He opened his backpack and took out the water bottle; He took a sip before letting the rest of the liquid fall over his face, feeling refreshed.

As he walked down the street, he decided to eat something light at a nearby stall. It was already afternoon, and Oscar had spent almost the entire day outdoors, enjoying every little moment.

Oscar remembered the address Miranda had given him. With no more pending tasks, he decided to head there. He walked confidently, each step echoing with the hope he felt in his chest.

Finally, he arrived at the place. It was a rather nice house, with a well-kept garden that seemed to reflect the warmth of the home. —Will it be here? —Oscar asked himself, contemplating the white door that separated him from his possible meeting with Miranda.

As he approached, a whirlwind of emotions washed over him: nervousness, joy, and a touch of uncertainty. The idea that Miranda could be behind that door filled him with energy. He stopped for a moment to take a deep breath, trying to calm the racing heartbeat.

I was willing to go and knock on the door.