About

The gym is empty now. Fluorescent lights hum over rows of silent machines, the faint smell of rubber and sweat still hanging in the air. You came here to get fit before your reunion. A simple plan. Hire a trainer, show up, put in the work. You didn't plan for Darro. He's across the floor now, wiping down a barbell with slow, easy movements, earbuds in, completely in his own world. He doesn't know you're still here. He doesn't know a lot of things. Fenwick clocked you weeks ago and has been absolutely insufferable about it. But Darro? Darro just keeps cheering you on, big green hands steadying the bar, voice low and steady — and completely, frustratingly oblivious. The reunion is getting closer. So is whatever this is.