Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
I especially felt skittish about revealing anything to Catwoman Cathy or Mark Gladstone. They were altogether too nosy, giving me the third degree every time I walked through the door. They always wanted to know how Kage and I were getting along, and I always told them as little as possible. It was weird. I always wondered what they could possibly get out of know all of my business, but after a while I figured out that it was probably just the thrill of gossip that drove them. No doubt they discussed everything I told them amongst themselves and with anyone else who would stand still long enough to listen.
It got to the point I felt like I was being felt up every time I entered the office. I know that sounds icky, but that’s how it felt.
Mark Gladstone still tried to chat me up in private, like we were buddies or something. I was polite, but I tried to limit our conversations with excuses and sudden bathroom urges. He thought he was God’s gift to the universe, but he definitely wasn’t the kind of guy I could ever consider a friend. If it hadn’t been for needing to feel like a real professional, I would have stopped going into the office altogether.
On Tuesday afternoon, I’d used some of the photos I’d taken to create a press packet. Well, really it was a glorified flyer, but I used every ounce of creativity I had in me to make it appealing. I painted Kage to be this infamous underground fighter who was on the verge of becoming a superstar. It wasn’t true exactly, more like a forward-looking statement, but it was based on fact.
Through snippets of conversations and a few comments Kage had made directly to me, I’d pieced together a picture of what was really going on in the Michael Kage camp. To be honest, I’d almost begun to believe he was just a rich guy with a hobby— that he’d probably never even been in a real fight. But the truth was more dramatic and bizarre than a publicist could have hoped for.
Kage had been training to be a fighter all his life, since he was around four years old. It’s all he ever wanted to do. I wasn’t clear on the specifics of how his uncle ended up being his guardian, or where his parents had gotten off to. But I did know that his uncle was just as serious as Kage about him getting a UFC contract and becoming a champion. He’d poured a lot of money into Kage’s training, and then when he felt Kage was ready, he did the unthinkable.
He offered a reward to anyone who thought they could beat his nephew in a private MMA fight to the finish. The fights were broken up into typical three-minute rounds, but the difference was, there were no judges. The fight could only end with a submission, a KO or TKO, or a forfeit. Originally, the prize offered was ten-thousand dollars. Big bucks for a struggling lower-level fighter. But as Kage began to require stiffer competition, the amount went up.
By the time I came to the Alcazar, the prize for defeating Michael Kage was one-hundred-thousand dollars.
It was as yet unclaimed.
Now technically this was a rumor, or a legend if you will, because I had seen no real evidence that Kage had ever participated in a fight other than his sparring practice with Marco. But I believed it, just as I was coming to believe that Kage could walk on water or make a blind man see.
So I used the legend to our advantage on the flyers. I sent them to three large gyms within driving distance of Vegas announcing that this mysterious undefeated fighter would be in their area soon if they’d like to have him stop by. I didn’t attempt to charge for appearances. In my mind, this was just a way to get Kage used to the exposure while getting the word out about him. People associated with the MMA world needed to know the name of Michael Kage.
I didn’t know what kind of response to expect, but I was thrilled when one of them called on Friday to book him.
“What did you do that for?” Kage asked when I told him what I’d done. “Am I gonna have to miss two workout days for that?”
“Yes. But it’s a good idea. It’s just one appearance, but we need to get used to this kind of thing, Kage. One of these days, people are going to be dying to get you in their gym. Think of it as a trial run.”
He nodded. “Okay, I just don’t know what to expect. Do other guys do this?”
“I think so,” I told him. “I’m pretty sure they do.”
He laughed and ruffled my hair. “Me and my rookie publicist. Alright, if you want me to do it, I’ll do it. It could be fun to take a road trip.”