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Starring: Owen Lyon
Featuring: Troy Lyon & David Powers
Location: The Lyon's Den ➜ The School Parking Lot
Time: 7:00 AM ➜ Just Before the First Bell!
Featuring: Troy Lyon & David Powers
Location: The Lyon's Den ➜ The School Parking Lot
Time: 7:00 AM ➜ Just Before the First Bell!
From the outside looking in, the building looked rather dilapidated. At first glance it even looked more like a warehouse than anything, with no clear advertisement on the outer walls, and the sheet metal door sticking out like a sore thumb surrounded by the glam and glitz of downtown Beverly Hills High. It wasn’t always so bad, but without someone to watch over it for the past year or so, time was winning the battle. Paint needed to be reapplied, one of the windows was boarded up… it was a mess.
Faded advertisements were pasted on the building, proudly declaring it The 365 Combat Club. The club had stood for many years as one of many combat gyms in the LA area. There was nothing special about it. It didn’t have the newest equipment, it didn’t have the best trainers. It wasn’t like the 365 boasted a secret training technique to go from zero to hero; in fact, the old owner was quite fond of saying the only secret ingredients to success were hard work and dedication.
By the time he’d gotten old and frail, the only people left were those dedicated few. When the owner had passed, the 365 shuttered its doors and its fate was unknown for a while.
Until, almost overnight, the new owners arrived and made changes. Though the label on the gym door still said ‘The 365,’ the window and door both had new logos naming the place The Lyon’s Den and small text underneath saying ‘combat club and gym.’ Today was the first day of the gym’s second life, and to top it off, the new owner’s son was standing on a ladder balanced precariously against the wall of the warehouse building his family would now proudly call their second home.
With a hammer in one hand and banner in the other, Owen Lyon was trying to figure out the easiest way to get a nail from between his teeth and into the hole where he could hammer it in. This was the last thing he was expected to do until he could finally leave and go to school, something he was so excited for that it honestly disturbed him.
The truth was, he was basically his father’s prisoner. Before they had left their old town, Owen had gotten in trouble for being the centerpiece of a brawl at a sporting event. In his head, Owen counted it as a victory - he stood the tallest at the end, and that counted for something. He had hoped to sell his dad with that line, but his dad was just pissed he got in a fight outside of the gym. Again. And in public! Owen was lucky he was still allowed to drive himself around town, even if he had to drive his mom’s minivan.
He leaned his body up against the wall to hold up the banner as best he could. He took his free hand to grab one of the nails he held between his teeth and jammed it into the hole on the banner before he slammed it with his hammer. Bang! Bang! The ladder shook with each blow, and Owen found himself briefly concerned with falling off the ladder, and even more briefly he compared himself to a modern day Martin Luther. After all, the gym was basically his church.
Inside the gym, the sound of the hammer hitting the wall reverberated through the building. There were only two occupants, one laying in the center of the sparring ring near the middle of the gym, and one resting on a bench. On the bench, the man had his feet resting on a skateboard. His legs moved a million miles a minute, sliding side to side as he waited for something, anything to happen. When the hammering started, he jumped in his seat. “Christ!” He said, shaking his head as he looked across at his older brother - Owen’s father, Troy. “Are you sure he should be doing that alone?”
Troy sat up and shot his younger brother a scowling look. “You for real? Owen can hang a fuckin’ banner on his own. He’s damn near a grown man, but don’t tell Ky that.” He shook his head and grabbed the ropes to pull himself to his feet. “Why are you even here, Davy? Don’t you have anything better to do?” He asked, leaning on the ropes to peer down at Davy as the banging came to an end, and Owen’s work seemed to be complete. “For fuck’s sake, you have a toddler at home.”
Davy shrugged his shoulders. That was true, he did have a baby at home, but he felt like he needed to be with his brother and nephew, “Ely said it’s cool if I take a couple mornings to come here and make sure you and our little I.E.D. aren’t up to no good. Besides, if anything I get stressed with the baby. She’s so… small. I didn’t know they were that small!” He exclaimed, shaking his head.
“I don’t like when you call me that. I’m not even that explosive!” Owen had arrived on the scene, heading back inside to tell his father the deed was done before he went to school, but he’d caught the last part of what his uncle had said and felt a need to defend himself. Unfortunately, it was disastrous as both Davy and Troy burst into laughter. “I’M NOT. I’m not! I’ve never gotten mad or hit someone who didn’t deserve it! I just get angry sometimes. That’s messed up.” Owen frowned as he looked between the two older men, wanting one of them to say something, anything.
“I’m getting a beer. Owen, don’t go anywhere.” Troy finally said, hopping out of the ring. Owen seemed noticeably displeased with what he’d said, but didn’t protest and didn’t move either. Like a good soldier, Owen was awaiting orders.
On the other hand, Davy’s life wasn’t decided by Troy’s mood, and he was happy to poke the bear. “What are you talking about? A beer? Dude, it’s like 7 AM - HEY!” Davy was cut off of his words by Troy leaning down to snatch the joint he held between his fingers. Wagging a finger at his younger brother, Troy tutted.
“New dads shouldn’t be high. And what are you talking about? I’m a grown man with two grown ass kids, I can drink whenever I damn well fuckin’ please. You look like a hypocritical asshole, judging me for a beer with breakfast while you get ready to smoke a jay in the gym. Read the fucking rules. There are two rules.” Troy said, pointing toward the chalkboard hanging on the wall. In the corner, it had a message, written in the flowery printing of his wife.
Hello new gym people! Please make sure to follow these very important rules:
Thank you and we hope you enjoy your time here!
Davy shrugged. “Point made.”
“I wish she hadn’t put the thank you, but she’s pretty amped about the opening. So fuck off and follow my wife’s rules.” Troy pocketed the joint he’d snatched and then looked back at his son. For the time being, it seemed, he’d forgotten about the morning beer and was once again locked in on Owen. “Speaking of rules, Mr. Owen. I got some you need to follow. You’re going to BHHS now, and keeping it real? That place sucks. I wish you didn’t have to graduate from there, but I had to come back and save the gym before they declared it condemned.
I have some advice.”
“I don’t need advice. It’s fucking high school. I’m gonna keep my head down, finish up my last year, and then go to college. Wooooooooo, Chico State.” Owen said, mockingly lifting his arms up and flailing them around. “Maybe I’ll get a real job. Unlike Ruby.” Owen couldn’t help but smirk as he took the opportunity to dunk on his sister. It was especially sweet to do it when she wasn’t present to defend herself. Unfortunately for him, their father was.
“Rule number fuckin’ one! Don’t disrespect your sister in front of company -”
“This isn’t company. This is Davy.”
“Okay. Ouch.”
“RULE NUMBER TWO. Don’t interrupt me, boy wonder.” Troy said in a snippy voice, folding his arms over his chest. There were very few things in this world that annoyed Troy more than being interrupted, and unfortunately for Owen, disrespect for his daughter was up there too. He huffed and shook his head, before carrying on. “Look, son. I did my time at BHHS. It isn’t like normal schools, that’s why I told Kylie no when she suggested we move back here to be closer to family. That school? It breeds hate and drama. I don’t know what it is, but the four years I was there? Hell. Literal, actual, factual hell. I got involved in a drug war. I was seventeen. It’s probably the fuckin’ same old shit. First rule. Find Scott, and stick close to whoever he hangs out with.”
“Who’s Scott? Scott like, my cousin Scott? Dad, I only talk to him at Christmas parties.” Owen explained, shaking his head. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing to be worried about. It was a school, and he only had a matter of months left anyway, then before anyone knew it, he’d be out and on his way. “Dude, you’re blowing this out of proportion.”
“No, no. Your dad has a point. It was weird for my time too - there was a beach party, and someone writing a LiveBlog about the school used it to try and succesfully! start a social war. Me? I was, uh, sixteen. Happy to say I was never implicated!” Davy beamed, as if there were something to be proud of in his statement. “The Weekend Warrior, it was called. Or something like that? It’s probably still up.”
“Always something with that fuckin’ place. You better not get involved in no drug wars, no social wars, and no goddamn fights. Don’t associate with anyone named Green, they’re probably evil. Especially the women - not sexist, it’s just the truth - some of the guys are okay. Henry and I used to drink. Stick to people you know. Find Scott, and stick to him. Listen, Owen. This has gotta go well, I don’t wanna hear nothin’ about no fights, no spunky scraps, no women -” “Something tells me that won’t be a problem.” “ - What did I just say about interrupting me? Fine, you don’t wanna go hang out with Scott? Fine. Whatever.” Owen shrugged and Troy sighed, trying to remember where he was. “Forget it. The most important rule, the number one rule of BHHS, is simple. DTA. Don’t. Trust. Anybody. Snakes in the grass, the lot of ‘em. I don’t even want to be here as a fuckin’ adult, but they wanted to condemn the gym. My gym. Fuck that!” Feeling himself get on a tangent, Troy paused and took a breath to halt it before he looked back at Owen.
“Understood?” Owen nodded and Troy stepped forward to stand in front of his son. Thinking the situation was a little dicey, Owen visibly tensed up. It wasn’t unlike his father to go for a takedown as a test, and he needed to be prepared. He flinched as Troy lifted up a hand… and then lazily brought it down on his left shoulder, then up over his head and onto his right shoulder. “Good. Then I absolve you of your sins.”
“Does that… did I sin? What are you talking about? Am I an Avenger now?” Owen asked his father. Before his father could respond, a chuckle came from his uncle, and Owen turned his attention in that direction.
“It means you’re not in trouble anymore, little dude.”
“Davy’s right. Go be a kid. Oh, I’m gonna need the minivan today, so…” Troy dug around in his pocket and fished out the key to his beloved car, which he tossed to Owen. Owen watched it sail through the air, and found himself too stunned to catch it. “You can take mine. Jesus, Owen. What is wrong with you? When my dad said I could drive his car? I was amped.” Troy shook his head, but Owen’s brain was still running a million miles a minute just to try and keep up with the situation.
“So, let me get this straight… I’m free, and I get your car?” Owen asked, and Troy nodded. Owen frowned. There must have been a catch. One he didn’t see, or something like that. There was something his dad wanted from him, he knew that much… it was just figuring it out what it was. “What’s the deal?” He asked, and Troy just shrugged.
“There isn’t one. I was too harsh, and you did a good job setting up around here. Keep it under 10k, don’t lose my CDs. It doesn’t have bluetooth, so deal with it. You show up to BHHS in a minivan and you’re going to get roasted before you even have a chance.” Troy explained, watching as Owen turned to walk away. “Be back here by six at the latest. You’re working with the beginners, got it?” He asked, and when a thumb was thrown into the air by his son who stepped out of the building, Troy sighed. He looked at Davy and spoke in a stern tone. “You have no idea how lucky you are. They’re so much easier when they’re small.”
“I feel like all she does is sleep and poop?”
“You know how much easier my life would be if the I.E.D. did nothing but sleep and shit?”
“Okay, once again. Point taken.”
Owen slipped out of the gym, stepping underneath the banner he’d spent his morning hanging up above the entryway. With bright red paint and his mother’s tell-tale writing, it practically shouted its message to the streets:
Outside of the gym, Owen was sliding behind the wheel of his dad’s car for the first time. As he sank into the leather seat and put his hands on the wide steering wheel, Owen found himself wondering if he was truly ready for this kind of responsibility. He put the key in the ignition and turned it, with the car immediately roaring to life in response as the stereo blasted the music his dad listened to.
He revved the engine for a moment, and then shifted it into gear. He pulled out of the gym, and was on his way. He couldn’t help himself but smile as he drove down the streets and toward the new high school, his phone guiding him along the way. He was a new man! Free from the baggage of fighting all the time at school, free from the warden’s judgment, and most of all… well, he would have been lying if he said he didn’t like the car he was driving now.
By the time the next song had ended, Owen had found his way to the parking lot of the school and slid his car into a parking slot alongside a red car, in line with… a lot of other fancy looking vehicles. He considered for a second that he should park somewhere else - it seemed like this was a place where the car people gathered, but then ultimately decided he didn’t care and killed the engine.
Owen Lyon was finally here.
Faded advertisements were pasted on the building, proudly declaring it The 365 Combat Club. The club had stood for many years as one of many combat gyms in the LA area. There was nothing special about it. It didn’t have the newest equipment, it didn’t have the best trainers. It wasn’t like the 365 boasted a secret training technique to go from zero to hero; in fact, the old owner was quite fond of saying the only secret ingredients to success were hard work and dedication.
By the time he’d gotten old and frail, the only people left were those dedicated few. When the owner had passed, the 365 shuttered its doors and its fate was unknown for a while.
Until, almost overnight, the new owners arrived and made changes. Though the label on the gym door still said ‘The 365,’ the window and door both had new logos naming the place The Lyon’s Den and small text underneath saying ‘combat club and gym.’ Today was the first day of the gym’s second life, and to top it off, the new owner’s son was standing on a ladder balanced precariously against the wall of the warehouse building his family would now proudly call their second home.
With a hammer in one hand and banner in the other, Owen Lyon was trying to figure out the easiest way to get a nail from between his teeth and into the hole where he could hammer it in. This was the last thing he was expected to do until he could finally leave and go to school, something he was so excited for that it honestly disturbed him.
The truth was, he was basically his father’s prisoner. Before they had left their old town, Owen had gotten in trouble for being the centerpiece of a brawl at a sporting event. In his head, Owen counted it as a victory - he stood the tallest at the end, and that counted for something. He had hoped to sell his dad with that line, but his dad was just pissed he got in a fight outside of the gym. Again. And in public! Owen was lucky he was still allowed to drive himself around town, even if he had to drive his mom’s minivan.
He leaned his body up against the wall to hold up the banner as best he could. He took his free hand to grab one of the nails he held between his teeth and jammed it into the hole on the banner before he slammed it with his hammer. Bang! Bang! The ladder shook with each blow, and Owen found himself briefly concerned with falling off the ladder, and even more briefly he compared himself to a modern day Martin Luther. After all, the gym was basically his church.
Inside the gym, the sound of the hammer hitting the wall reverberated through the building. There were only two occupants, one laying in the center of the sparring ring near the middle of the gym, and one resting on a bench. On the bench, the man had his feet resting on a skateboard. His legs moved a million miles a minute, sliding side to side as he waited for something, anything to happen. When the hammering started, he jumped in his seat. “Christ!” He said, shaking his head as he looked across at his older brother - Owen’s father, Troy. “Are you sure he should be doing that alone?”
Troy sat up and shot his younger brother a scowling look. “You for real? Owen can hang a fuckin’ banner on his own. He’s damn near a grown man, but don’t tell Ky that.” He shook his head and grabbed the ropes to pull himself to his feet. “Why are you even here, Davy? Don’t you have anything better to do?” He asked, leaning on the ropes to peer down at Davy as the banging came to an end, and Owen’s work seemed to be complete. “For fuck’s sake, you have a toddler at home.”
Davy shrugged his shoulders. That was true, he did have a baby at home, but he felt like he needed to be with his brother and nephew, “Ely said it’s cool if I take a couple mornings to come here and make sure you and our little I.E.D. aren’t up to no good. Besides, if anything I get stressed with the baby. She’s so… small. I didn’t know they were that small!” He exclaimed, shaking his head.
“I don’t like when you call me that. I’m not even that explosive!” Owen had arrived on the scene, heading back inside to tell his father the deed was done before he went to school, but he’d caught the last part of what his uncle had said and felt a need to defend himself. Unfortunately, it was disastrous as both Davy and Troy burst into laughter. “I’M NOT. I’m not! I’ve never gotten mad or hit someone who didn’t deserve it! I just get angry sometimes. That’s messed up.” Owen frowned as he looked between the two older men, wanting one of them to say something, anything.
“I’m getting a beer. Owen, don’t go anywhere.” Troy finally said, hopping out of the ring. Owen seemed noticeably displeased with what he’d said, but didn’t protest and didn’t move either. Like a good soldier, Owen was awaiting orders.
On the other hand, Davy’s life wasn’t decided by Troy’s mood, and he was happy to poke the bear. “What are you talking about? A beer? Dude, it’s like 7 AM - HEY!” Davy was cut off of his words by Troy leaning down to snatch the joint he held between his fingers. Wagging a finger at his younger brother, Troy tutted.
“New dads shouldn’t be high. And what are you talking about? I’m a grown man with two grown ass kids, I can drink whenever I damn well fuckin’ please. You look like a hypocritical asshole, judging me for a beer with breakfast while you get ready to smoke a jay in the gym. Read the fucking rules. There are two rules.” Troy said, pointing toward the chalkboard hanging on the wall. In the corner, it had a message, written in the flowery printing of his wife.
Hello new gym people! Please make sure to follow these very important rules:
- no smoking
- no bitching whining
Thank you and we hope you enjoy your time here!
Davy shrugged. “Point made.”
“I wish she hadn’t put the thank you, but she’s pretty amped about the opening. So fuck off and follow my wife’s rules.” Troy pocketed the joint he’d snatched and then looked back at his son. For the time being, it seemed, he’d forgotten about the morning beer and was once again locked in on Owen. “Speaking of rules, Mr. Owen. I got some you need to follow. You’re going to BHHS now, and keeping it real? That place sucks. I wish you didn’t have to graduate from there, but I had to come back and save the gym before they declared it condemned.
I have some advice.”
“I don’t need advice. It’s fucking high school. I’m gonna keep my head down, finish up my last year, and then go to college. Wooooooooo, Chico State.” Owen said, mockingly lifting his arms up and flailing them around. “Maybe I’ll get a real job. Unlike Ruby.” Owen couldn’t help but smirk as he took the opportunity to dunk on his sister. It was especially sweet to do it when she wasn’t present to defend herself. Unfortunately for him, their father was.
“Rule number fuckin’ one! Don’t disrespect your sister in front of company -”
“This isn’t company. This is Davy.”
“Okay. Ouch.”
“RULE NUMBER TWO. Don’t interrupt me, boy wonder.” Troy said in a snippy voice, folding his arms over his chest. There were very few things in this world that annoyed Troy more than being interrupted, and unfortunately for Owen, disrespect for his daughter was up there too. He huffed and shook his head, before carrying on. “Look, son. I did my time at BHHS. It isn’t like normal schools, that’s why I told Kylie no when she suggested we move back here to be closer to family. That school? It breeds hate and drama. I don’t know what it is, but the four years I was there? Hell. Literal, actual, factual hell. I got involved in a drug war. I was seventeen. It’s probably the fuckin’ same old shit. First rule. Find Scott, and stick close to whoever he hangs out with.”
“Who’s Scott? Scott like, my cousin Scott? Dad, I only talk to him at Christmas parties.” Owen explained, shaking his head. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing to be worried about. It was a school, and he only had a matter of months left anyway, then before anyone knew it, he’d be out and on his way. “Dude, you’re blowing this out of proportion.”
“No, no. Your dad has a point. It was weird for my time too - there was a beach party, and someone writing a LiveBlog about the school used it to try and succesfully! start a social war. Me? I was, uh, sixteen. Happy to say I was never implicated!” Davy beamed, as if there were something to be proud of in his statement. “The Weekend Warrior, it was called. Or something like that? It’s probably still up.”
“Always something with that fuckin’ place. You better not get involved in no drug wars, no social wars, and no goddamn fights. Don’t associate with anyone named Green, they’re probably evil. Especially the women - not sexist, it’s just the truth - some of the guys are okay. Henry and I used to drink. Stick to people you know. Find Scott, and stick to him. Listen, Owen. This has gotta go well, I don’t wanna hear nothin’ about no fights, no spunky scraps, no women -” “Something tells me that won’t be a problem.” “ - What did I just say about interrupting me? Fine, you don’t wanna go hang out with Scott? Fine. Whatever.” Owen shrugged and Troy sighed, trying to remember where he was. “Forget it. The most important rule, the number one rule of BHHS, is simple. DTA. Don’t. Trust. Anybody. Snakes in the grass, the lot of ‘em. I don’t even want to be here as a fuckin’ adult, but they wanted to condemn the gym. My gym. Fuck that!” Feeling himself get on a tangent, Troy paused and took a breath to halt it before he looked back at Owen.
“Understood?” Owen nodded and Troy stepped forward to stand in front of his son. Thinking the situation was a little dicey, Owen visibly tensed up. It wasn’t unlike his father to go for a takedown as a test, and he needed to be prepared. He flinched as Troy lifted up a hand… and then lazily brought it down on his left shoulder, then up over his head and onto his right shoulder. “Good. Then I absolve you of your sins.”
“Does that… did I sin? What are you talking about? Am I an Avenger now?” Owen asked his father. Before his father could respond, a chuckle came from his uncle, and Owen turned his attention in that direction.
“It means you’re not in trouble anymore, little dude.”
“Davy’s right. Go be a kid. Oh, I’m gonna need the minivan today, so…” Troy dug around in his pocket and fished out the key to his beloved car, which he tossed to Owen. Owen watched it sail through the air, and found himself too stunned to catch it. “You can take mine. Jesus, Owen. What is wrong with you? When my dad said I could drive his car? I was amped.” Troy shook his head, but Owen’s brain was still running a million miles a minute just to try and keep up with the situation.
“So, let me get this straight… I’m free, and I get your car?” Owen asked, and Troy nodded. Owen frowned. There must have been a catch. One he didn’t see, or something like that. There was something his dad wanted from him, he knew that much… it was just figuring it out what it was. “What’s the deal?” He asked, and Troy just shrugged.
“There isn’t one. I was too harsh, and you did a good job setting up around here. Keep it under 10k, don’t lose my CDs. It doesn’t have bluetooth, so deal with it. You show up to BHHS in a minivan and you’re going to get roasted before you even have a chance.” Troy explained, watching as Owen turned to walk away. “Be back here by six at the latest. You’re working with the beginners, got it?” He asked, and when a thumb was thrown into the air by his son who stepped out of the building, Troy sighed. He looked at Davy and spoke in a stern tone. “You have no idea how lucky you are. They’re so much easier when they’re small.”
“I feel like all she does is sleep and poop?”
“You know how much easier my life would be if the I.E.D. did nothing but sleep and shit?”
“Okay, once again. Point taken.”
Owen slipped out of the gym, stepping underneath the banner he’d spent his morning hanging up above the entryway. With bright red paint and his mother’s tell-tale writing, it practically shouted its message to the streets:
Outside of the gym, Owen was sliding behind the wheel of his dad’s car for the first time. As he sank into the leather seat and put his hands on the wide steering wheel, Owen found himself wondering if he was truly ready for this kind of responsibility. He put the key in the ignition and turned it, with the car immediately roaring to life in response as the stereo blasted the music his dad listened to.
He revved the engine for a moment, and then shifted it into gear. He pulled out of the gym, and was on his way. He couldn’t help himself but smile as he drove down the streets and toward the new high school, his phone guiding him along the way. He was a new man! Free from the baggage of fighting all the time at school, free from the warden’s judgment, and most of all… well, he would have been lying if he said he didn’t like the car he was driving now.
By the time the next song had ended, Owen had found his way to the parking lot of the school and slid his car into a parking slot alongside a red car, in line with… a lot of other fancy looking vehicles. He considered for a second that he should park somewhere else - it seemed like this was a place where the car people gathered, but then ultimately decided he didn’t care and killed the engine.
Owen Lyon was finally here.
