He laughed.
Not cruelly at first.
"Give us one more run."
Althea looked at him.
"Which one of you is responsible for shutting down the lights?"
Elena raised a hand.
"I am."
"Then I need you off the west mat by ten thirty-five so I can finish."
Elena nodded.
"Fair."
Marcus turned toward Althea.
"Ten thirty-five?"
"Yes."
"You have somewhere to be?"
Althea rested both hands on the mop handle.
"Yes."
He smiled.
"Big plans?"
"Home."
Ben laughed softly.
Marcus glanced at him.
The laugh irritated him more than the answer.
He pointed toward the wet section of floor.
"We're paying for the building."
Althea looked at him.
"The club is paying me to close it."
Neil lowered the camera completely.
Elena took a step forward.
"Marcus, let's finish."
That should have ended it.
Marcus walked toward the ring.
He stepped through the freshly mopped edge.
Althea looked down at his bare foot.
Then at him.
"Please don't."
He stopped.
"What?"
"Walk through that."
"It's water."
"It's disinfectant."
Marcus glanced at the floor.
Then deliberately took another step across it.
Not because he needed to.
Because he felt watched.
Althea's expression did not change.
"Now I have to do that section again."
Marcus shrugged.
"Then do it again."
Silence settled over the room.
Elena's voice sharpened.
"Marcus."
He turned.
"What?"
"Enough."
The word did not land.
Marcus had spent months hearing people tell him more.
More rounds.
More interviews.
More content.
More aggression.
Enough sounded like disrespect.
He looked back at Althea.
She had already lowered the mop.
No argument.
No raised voice.
No attempt to embarrass him.
That should have made him feel foolish.
Instead, it made him feel dismissed.
"Hey."
Althea looked up.
"What?"
Marcus walked closer.
"Do you know who I am?"
She glanced at the championship belt draped over the back of his folding chair.
"Yes."
He seemed satisfied.
"Good."
"You're the person walking through the floor I just cleaned."
Ben looked down.
Neil pressed his lips together.
Elena closed her eyes briefly.
Marcus gave a short laugh.
"You're funny."
"I'm working."
"Do you always talk to members like that?"
"Only the ones who make extra work."
He stared at her.
Althea stared back.
She was not challenging him physically. She was not trying to dominate the room. She was simply waiting for him to move so she could finish her job.
That ordinary patience irritated him.
He was accustomed to people reacting to his presence.
Some smiled too quickly. Others asked for photographs. Younger fighters watched his feet when he walked, trying to learn something from the way he carried himself.
Althea did none of those things.
She did not seem impressed.
And Marcus, who had spent much of the last year being impressed with himself, did not know what to do with that.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Althea."
"Althea what?"
"Brooks."
He repeated it as though testing whether it sounded familiar.
"Brooks. All right. Here's what we're going to do. You're going to give us another ten minutes, and then you can finish."
Althea checked the clock again.
"No."
Marcus blinked.
"What?"
"I said no."
"You can't give us ten minutes?"
"I've already given you thirty."
"You're making this a bigger deal than it is."
"I'm trying to finish my shift."
Marcus looked toward Elena.
"Are you hearing this?"
"I am," Elena replied.
"Tell her we need the floor."
Elena folded her arms.
"We don't need the floor. We need one final shot, and we can do it on the dry side."
Marcus stared at her.
"You were fine with this ten minutes ago."
"I was wrong ten minutes ago."
The answer surprised him.
He turned back toward Althea.
"Look, nobody is trying to make your night difficult."
Althea looked at the dirty footprints he had left across the clean floor.
"Then stop making it difficult."
Ben shifted his weight.
The sponsor representative, a narrow-faced man named Colin Price, checked his phone and pretended not to hear.
Marcus took a breath.
"Do you understand how much money this shoot represents?"
Althea nodded.
"Probably more than my shift."
"Then maybe you understand why we need to finish."
"I understand that you have a deadline. I also understand that I have one."
Marcus laughed again.
"You're serious."
"Yes."
He glanced at her mop bucket.
"What's the rush? You get paid by the hour, don't you?"
Althea's face remained still.
"That doesn't mean my time belongs to you."
The words were quiet.
They did not sound dramatic.
They did not need to.
Elena looked at Marcus.
"Apologize."
He turned sharply.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
Marcus's expression hardened.
"You're taking her side?"
"I'm taking the side of the person who has been doing her job while the rest of us keep changing the schedule."
"You're my coach."
"And right now I'm telling you that you're acting like a child."
For a second, the only sound in the room was the low hum of the ventilation system.