He has this woman to thank.
Dumped unceremoniously, he found himself at a sidewalk staring down at his vomit and a kickboxing gym advertisement. He walks into the ring, gloves on, full on rage and fury.
Whether it was blood or tears or sweat dripping down his face, he didn’t know. He only knew he felt alive.
A few championships later, he figured out his style. He wasn’t a fluke, he had a strategy.
He’s an out boxer, a fighter who observes his opponents patterns, then determining the distance between him and his opponent before he delivers that final blow.
It was a sure win, if he hadn’t miscalculated his timing.
A broken jaw and a screwed up shoulder later, he meditates on pain.
He was broken, and healed. He was scarred, but he lived to tell the tale.
More from the director here.