Damon made his way out of the office, a wide smile still plastered on his face.
He stood there for a moment, savoring the feeling of excitement and anticipation.
He looked down at the envelope in his hand, his fingers itching to open it and examine its contents.
But he resisted the temptation.
He wanted to share this moment with his mother, the person who had been with him throughout his journey, even before he picked up fighting.
He thought back to all the times his mother had supported him, encouraged him, and pushed him to be his best self.
He remembered the early morning training sessions, his mother would join him when training, even though she stopped due to now working, Damon didn't and would never forget.
Damon's heart swelled with love and gratitude as he thought about sharing this news with his mother.
He couldn't wait to see the look of pride and joy on her face.
He imagined her tears of happiness, her warm hugs, and her words of encouragement.
Nothing beat the feeling of sharing happiness with his mother.
He took a deep breath, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. He knew that this was just the beginning of a new chapter in his life.
He couldn't wait to see his career skyrocket, think he was overconfident? Talk to his fist.
Damon went to the room assigned to him,.
He walked over to the corner, where his backpack was leaning against the wall. He picked it up, feeling the familiar weight of his gear inside.
The backpack was a practical solution for carrying his equipment, but he knew it wouldn't be enough for their upcoming move to LA.
As he zipped up the backpack, Damon thought about the logistics of their move.
They would need more bags, suitcases, or boxes to pack their clothes and belongings.
The other was a grown man, tall and imposing, with a serious expression on his face.
Damon's curiosity was piqued, wondering who these two were and what they wanted.
He suddenly saw the kid run towards him, his little legs moving as fast as they could.
The man chasing after him, calling out "Matthew, wait!" But the kid didn't stop until he reached Damon.
He looked up at him with admiration, his eyes shining with excitement. "Damon Cross! I'm your biggest fan! Dad says you're going places, I think you're the greatest! I wanna be like you one day!" the kid began rambling, his words tumbling out in a rush.
Damon froze, not knowing what to say. This was his first encounter with a fan, and he was taken aback by the kid's enthusiasm.
He looked up at the boy's father, who was scratching his head, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement on his face. "Sorry, man," he said, looking at the boy. "Matthew, I told you to be polite."
Although his voice was reprimanding, it was soft, and Damon could tell he wasn't really mad at the kid.
Damon shook his head, smiling. "It's fine," he said, looking at the kid. He went down on one knee, so he could be at eye level with Matthew. "I'm happy to have a big fan like you, Matthew."
Matthew's eyes lit up even more, and he asked, his voice full of excitement, "Really? Can I get your autograph?" Damon was about to say he didn't have a pen, but like magic, the boy had one and a paper.
Damon took the paper, and paused, feeling a little rusty.
It had been a long time since he held a pen, and he wondered what his signature autograph should be. He smiled, thinking about it for a moment.
His hand moved, writing "Damon" in a cursive style, and he scratched it with a cross, signifying Damon Cross.
The kid took the autograph, his eyes shining with joy. "Thank you, thank you so much!" he exclaimed, hugging the paper to his chest.
The dad said goodbye, and Damon watched as they walked away, the kid still bubbling with excitement.
Damon couldn't help but feel a sense of great fulness and happiness.
He had made a difference in someone's life, and that felt amazing.
But despite that happiness, looking at the backs of the father and son, he couldn't help but feel....
Just maybe, maybe if things had been different.