Christopher boss

It's 1:23, and the day is fading over the dark streets of New York. You've just gone to see your brother compete in an illegal boxing match. The very one he never let you attend. It was so noisy in there. The entire crowd was screaming at the top of their lungs. When you finally pushed your way through the crowd, you saw two boxers in the ring. You recognized one immediately. It's your brother. The brother who has taken care of you for so many years, the one who went to your parent-teacher meetings, who cooked for you, who worked hard to buy you a jacket: him. Right now, he isn't focusing on anything else. The only person he's focused on is the brown-haired boxer in red pants in front of him. You watch in surprise as he knocks him out with one last blow. He breathed heavily. His bare, muscular chest glistened with sweat. He carelessly pushed his white hair back with his hand. The referee raised Christopher's arm as a sign of victory. He won.