A few days had passed since you spent the night in the gym with Seokmin. Since that night you hadn’t seen him, not even at his condominium. The electricity was up and running again and the hot water was back to normal. You had been loitering around the West building in hopes to run into Vernon so you could thank him, but even he was nowhere to be found.

That evening you carried a fluffy duster in one hand and cleaning wipes in the other as you walked down the hall towards the fitness room. The principal had left another note demanding that you clean it so you had no choice but to do so. You walked towards the Seventeen club room and passed the same board that now had a new phrase.

*The newest project*

Thought: I often ask the heavens. Did they make you specifically for me?

Rule: write a phrase to end the thought

What to do: use a sticky note provided, write your phrase, put your name and identification number on it, drop paper into box

You yanked another yellow sticky note off the stash and again wrote an ending phrase to the quote. You stood there trying to remember how you had signed your name last time. You definitely didn’t write your real name. You went by the alias: FriendGirl

You laughed when you read your code name. You weren’t really taking this whole “project” seriously. You just wanted to take part in it for fun. Besides, you weren’t even a student there. Living a little wouldn’t hurt anyone. After you folded the paper into fourths you dropped it into the box and continued your walk down the hallway. When you passed the Seventeen Club room you slowed down, trying to eavesdrop for anything interesting.

You pushed open the gym doors and walked in looking towards the area where you had slept a few days ago. Those mats you slept on were all against the wall again fixed and neatly piled on top of each other. You look at the small map by the door that gave a brief blueprint of the gym. The lockers that you were oddly familiar with were to your left and a fitness room that was attached to a rehearsal room was located to the right. You headed toward the rooms as you pulled out your keys from your pocket permitting them to jingle together reminding you of an awful Christmas song.

Once you were inside you looked around. All sorts of exercising machines were placed in the room. Single weights, dumbbells and benches were on your left side with a large mirror going across the wall. Ahead from you were windows showing you a view of the inner courtyard. Ellipticals and treadmills lined the wall to your right. Just like the other side, a massive mirror also accompanied the running machines.

In a corner behind you, boxing gloves were strung on the wall and a punching bag hung nearby. You set your cleaning tools down on a small bench in the middle of the room while you continued to survey your surroundings. With your fluffy duster, you walked over and ran it across the buttons on the treadmills a few times.

During the few minutes that you dusted the treadmills, you continued to stare at the motionless cylindrical training bag. There was something about that punching bag that made it much more intriguing than the other equipment in the fitness center. You walked over to it and then looked around to make sure no one was watching. You glanced over to the windows to see if anyone was peering in from outside. When the environment was clear of human activity, you swung a punch at the bag.

You frowned when it didn’t budge. Curious what was inside it, you poked at it with your fingers. The leather material was sturdy, too sturdy you couldn’t even make out what it was filled with. You set your duster down on the chair beside you and pulled your hands into fists.

With a hard punch, the bag gradually bounced away and swung back groggily. You reached to steady it when you heard the handle of the doors turn.

A tall slender man walked in. His light brown hair glowed from the lights in the room. He looked at your cleaning tools and then over to you. Only then did you realize you had met him before.

“You’re cleaning in here today?” he asked and walked over to you. After he came close enough you saw his eyes dart over to your name badge. You watched him turn back around and walk towards the wall lined with dumbbells that were organized by size. He slipped on black gloves that allowed his fingers to breathe and picked up two metal dumbbells, one in each hand. You were still clinging onto the punching bag as you watched him sit on the bench and proceed to do bicep curls.

The memory of his soft voice vibrated in your head. Of all the things you couldn’t remember, you were able to recall his voice. His thin black tank hung on his body, draping forward as he leaned over to continue his curls. 

“You should be careful when you’re using the punching bag. People break their wrists using that thing.” He stated and looked up at you.

“Oh…I wasn’t…I was just…looking at it.” You lied trying to pretend as if you had no memory of what you just did. You grinded your teeth quietly. You hated yourself. You at lying.

“Wear the gloves, it helps prevent injury,” He lifted his eyebrows as he nodded towards the boxing gloves that hung on the wall.

“Really? They help?”

“Mm-hm.”

You stood there in silence biting the inside of your cheek. You almost wanted to try them out but you fought the urge to do so.

“People tell me you’re the night janitor, I assume that is true?” he asked and shifted his body permitting himself to get comfortable before doing more bicep curls.

You sighed. At this point, there really was no reason in hiding anything anymore or trying to avoid the question. “It’s true,” you replied and continued to watch him exercise. The muscles on his arms relaxed and contracted over and over again. The large veins in his arms began to reveal themselves with every curl he performed. Before you knew it you were walking over to him.

“How much does that weigh?” you asked looking at the weights he held.

“50 each,” he replied and stood up from the bench making you step back from him. You were bad with math calculations. Deciphering how heavy 50 pounds were wasn’t something you were good at either.

“Is that considered heavy?”

“Mmm…not really, try it.” He dared and handed a dumbbell over to you. You stared at him and instead