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"Co on, Lana, you've got to hit harder than that," Damon said, standing firm as he prepared to absorb a leg kick.

His stance was steady, his confidence unshaken.

Svetlana smirked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Hey, I just don't want to hurt you, okay?"

Damon grinned, his voice playful. "Yeah, I'm sure you'll make feel better if you do. So, co on, show what you've got." He winked at her, teasingly.

She rolled her eyes and said sothing under her breath as she moved her body.

She beca more focused, and her body tensed up like a spring ready to fire.

She shot forward, her leg swinging in a crisp arc.

But just as Damon prepared to brace for impact, his phone started ringing from the bench behind him.

The distraction was brief but enough.

Thwack!

The kick went right through Damon's leg and hit it hard.

He reacted right away, he winced and stumbled a little as the pain spread through his quad.

He mumbled "Fuck" under his breath and took a step back.

Svetlana's smirk faded instantly, replaced with concern. She ran toward him quickly, and her face changed to guilt. "Oh my God, are you okay? I didn't an to—"

Damon waved her off, gritting through the pain with a strained laugh. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. But damn, Lana, you've got so serious power in that kick. Remind to never piss you off."

The corner of her lips twitched upward as she tried to suppress a laugh. "You're not supposed to complint when I almost take your leg off, you know."

Damon shook his head, still grinning. "Nah, credit where it's due. That was solid."

The phone buzzed again from the bench, and Damon gestured toward it. "Give a sec," he said, limping over to grab it.

As he glanced at the caller ID, his expression shifted slightly, the playful energy fading just a touch.

The na on the screen made him pause.

"Everything okay?" Svetlana asked, noticing the change in his deanor.

Damon glanced back at her, nodding lightly. "Yeah, just give a minute. I'll take this real quick."

She nodded and took a step back to give him room. As he walked off to answer the phone, she kept her eyes on him.

.

.

.

.

Damon ca back quickly after ending the call, his face slightly thoughtful but calm.

He looked at Svetlana, who was still stretching out her leg.

"Hey, I need to leave," he said casually, grabbing his water bottle and towel.

Svetlana tilted her head, her brow furrowed. "Everything okay?" she asked, concern edging her voice.

"Yeah, it's fine," Damon assured her, his tone light but steady. "It's Joey. He just wanted to talk. Sounded… weird, almost tired."

Her concern deepened, and she stepped closer. "Is he okay? I can co with you if you want."

Damon shook his head, offering her a small smile as he approached. "I'm fine. I'll handle it. You stay here, finish your training. I'll co back and get you once I'm done."

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips, then another to her forehead. "I won't be long," he said softly before heading toward the locker room to change.

Svetlana watched him go, her worry lingering, but she trusted him.

Damon always handled things in his own way.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that sothing was weighing on him more than he let on.

It was dark outside when Damon pulled into the fast food restaurant's parking lot.

His car stood out against the dark sky. Killing the engine, he sat there for a mont and looked out at the place he knew.

It wasn't a fancy place, it was just a normal place with so tables outside and the sll of burgers and fries in the air.

He sighed and stepped out of the car, locking it with a beep.

As he walked toward the entrance, Damon couldn't help but think about how long it had been since he last saw Joey.

Each of their lives had beco very busy. Joey was in his last year of college and trying to help Ashley through her pregnancy.

Damon knew that kind of pressure could make soone want to run away.

They had short calls where they shared nice news but nothing too deep.

It was like Joey was holding back, keeping sothing to himself.

And now, hearing the strain in Joey's voice during the call, Damon was certain sothing wasn't right.

He pushed open the door, the familiar ding of the bell greeting him as he scanned the small dining area.

It was late, so the place was quiet, with only a few custors scattered around.

In the far corner, Joey sat at a table, hunched over his phone.

He looked up as Damon approached, forcing a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Damon slid into the seat across from him, studying his friend closely. Joey looked tired, more than tired.

His shoulders sagged, and there was a heaviness in his expression that Damon hadn't seen before.

"Hey," Damon said simply, his tone light but curious. "Been a while."

Joey nodded, setting his phone down. "Yeah, it has."

The silence between them lingered for a mont, and Damon decided not to push, at least not yet.

Instead, he leaned back and waited, giving Joey the space to open up when he was ready.

Joey sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping as he set his phone down on the table.

He stared at it for a mont, as if gathering his thoughts, before finally looking up at Damon.

"D, man... I'm sorry. I haven't been around, haven't called, haven't–"

Damon cut him off with a wave of his hand, his tone firm but reassuring. "It's fine, man. Seriously. I know things must not be easy for you right now. You've got your hands full, college, Ashley, the baby on the way. No need to apologize for that."

Joey's lips twitched into a faint smile, though the weight in his eyes didn't lift. "Still, I feel like I've been dropping the ball. You've always been there for , and now when it's my turn to step up..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "I don't know, man. I just feel like I'm drowning."

Damon leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table.

His voice softened. "Joey, listen to . You're not dropping the ball, alright? You're doing what you need to do, trying to hold everything together. That's not easy, and I respect the hell out of you for it."

Joey looked at Damon for a mont, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. "It just feels like... no matter how hard I try, I'm not doing enough. Ashley's got all this pressure, and I feel like I'm failing her. I an, what kind of dad can't even support his own kid?"

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