Eleanor's POV.
“Before we get in there." Mo's hand shoots out, stopping me on the cracked sidewalk. “I don't know how much or even what my cousin told you about this… well, this shitshow."
“He didn't tell me much," I sigh, my head suddenly pounding.
“This isn't him. It might have been once upon a time. It might be in some reflection of who he is in Chicago. But who he is in that ring? It isn't him. Not anymore. Just remember that" Mo quickly says before attaching himself to my side.
The building isn't more than a dilapidated warehouse. The smell of mold, sweat, and alcohol is thick in the air. Mo presses us through the thick, rowdy bodies. People of all shapes and sizes are pressed shoulder to shoulder in the wide-open space.
The building was a chaotic jumble of bodies and noises
