-Four Years Later-

-Bennett-

"You're early today," my co-worker, Jonah, pointed out while scanning my ID card, flashing a sly smirk. "Did you ditch class again?"

"It was canceled, actually," I retorted before heading off to the staff's locker room. I tiredly nodded along to his subsequent chatter while changing and stuffing everything into my locker, occasionally inserting half-hearted murmurs of agreement. Then, we headed back out to the lobby.

"Wait, isn't this the third time in a month?" Jonah finally pointed out, as if he hadn't shifted through multiple other topics during the prior five minutes. "That he's canceled class, I mean."

I just nodded in agreement. That was one of the few pros of gen ed courses; usually, the professors wanted to be there even less than the students themselves.

"You're here so early, though," he added, scrunching his nose in confusion. "You should have gone back home in the meantime."

I shrugged. I still had a few hours until my shift started, which meant I could get in some cardio beforehand. It was just less of a hassle, all things considered. "I don't mind."

My job was alright, if not a bit lackluster. I taught small children about exercise through an interactive class. It was glorified babysitting, but it also paid surprisingly well and meant free access to the equipment, so I couldn't really complain.

Perhaps it was selfish, but it was pretty easy to teach when the children were young enough to thrive in friendliness, not yet apt in judgment and rebellion. It'd probably change in just a few short years; but, for now, they were quite pleasant to be around. They all looked up to me like I was a god, never questioning or criticizing me. It was pathetically safe, in many ways, but so what? Being around so many people was usually suffocating. At least this way, it was somewhat bearable.

Plus, the schedule worked out pretty well for me. By the time my shift was over, it was late enough that the gym was somewhat empty. And it was always more comfortable to get in a workout at that time, when all the gym junkies and machine-hoggers had packed up and headed home.

By then, there was only the occasional elder working it like a boss—a slow boss, but a boss nevertheless—and the occasional heavy lifter that seemingly fed off the building's raw energy.

It also meant I could effectively waste the whole day away and get back home by the time all the lights were turned off and both my parents were asleep.

And this gym's membership was a tad bit too expensive for my father's liking, who usually headed down to the same seedy gym a few blocks from our house that he'd always frequented. He'd considered switching to mine when he first found out I got hired, but that plan quickly fell through since, as far as he knew, staff members did not get free memberships for family. It was also far enough to be inconvenient, which is how I found myself willingly taking the bus nearly an hour out of town every day.

We did offer memberships for family members, of course, but he didn't need to know that. This was my dominion, much like that shitty gym was his. It was better this way.

"My lunch break's in like fifteen minutes. Come get lunch with me," Jonah pleaded once I walked back into the lobby, the tall blond nudging me insistently. "We can get whatever you want."

"From the cafeteria?" I offered.

He grimaced.

"How about the burger joint across the street?"

"Doesn't matter. I already ate," I lied, much to his annoyance. But really, how could I explain how hard it'd be to keep track of calories or log in the meal into my health stats app if we went to some random, locally-owned restaurant without sounding absolutely lame?

Or worse...

Knowing Jonah, he'd somehow sway me into eating something horrendously greasy, and then I'd have to deal with the repercussions and burning shame later on when I got the phone notification asking me to log in my damn dinner for the day. At that point, I'd probably just ignore my phone for the rest of the goddamn day.

No thanks.

"Please, Ben? Benny? Benny Boy?" Jonah pestered me, trailing behind me like a shadow.

"It's Bennett," I replied firmly, even as I cracked a smile. "I've told you so many times already; I like my name."

"Benny sounds a lot cuter, though," Jonah muttered while poking at my cheek. "You're too uptight. You know that, right?"

"You have mentioned it before, yes."

"Come get lunch with me, Benny boy," he asked once more before manhandling my arms, swinging them back and forth. "Look at you... you're not eating enough, are you?"

"I am."

Jonah just rolled his eyes.

"I can't go... not today. Next time," I assured him before forcing a knowing smile. "Why don't you go ask Riley?"

I exaggeratedly mimicked the same expression of longing he always made whenever Riley was around, only for him to cover my face with his hands.

"Shut up! She's here... somewhere!" Jonah nervously glanced around, so easily flustered by a bit of teasing. "How are you feeling lately, anyway? You stress so easily, Benny boy," he mentioned, cupping my face and invasively pressing his finger over the bags under my eyes until I shoved him off me.

He was referring to the theory that I'd been idiotic enough to confide in him about, of course. Which, perhaps I did sound insane when I'd first mentioned that I felt like I was being watched during my classes, but wasn't a true friend supposed to embrace one's insanity?

I narrowed my eyes. "I've—I've been better about that," I muttered in response. "And I'm not being paranoid, shut up." My social anxiety had been much worse when I was younger, but nowadays I was alright in most public settings as long as it wasn't too crowded. And as long as it wasn't too busy. I did well when teaching the kids as well, so why...

If it was just me in there, why did I feel so fidgety lately? Or was that it?

"Have you talked to a therapist about it? Maybe you're projecting," Jonah tried, but there was a playful hint to his voice. "Or do you think our Benny's secured himself a secret admirer?"

I could feel my face shifting into a scowl. "I hate both of those options. I'd rather it be a murderer."

"Are you sure there are no cameras in there?" Jonah offered as a solution, curiously scratching the back of his head. "I really don't know what else it could be."

I shook my head in response. I'd already asked our boss about it as well. And no, there were no cameras in there. I knew better than to get hung up on something so trivial, and yet...

But Jonah also had a point, as much as it pained me to admit it; maybe I was being paranoid. Whatever was going on, though, I just wanted a concrete answer. There had to be a logical explanation, right?

And that's how I found myself waiting by the top of the staircase that led to the running track on Friday. I nervously crouched there, beside the railing, while Jonah substituted for me. It was likely shameless on my part to make him cover for me when he was by no means trained for it, yet I'd promised he'd get my wage for the full day in exchange. After that, he'd been more than happy to hear me babbling about the basics for all of five minutes before wandering off, assuring me he'd be fine despite only partially listening.

I noticed a few of the parents raising an eyebrow at the sudden change in staff, but the kids immediately flocked to him when he offered to spend the entire time playing tag with them. Nobody actively complained before I headed upstairs, so I sighed with relief and counted it as a win. I just had to hope he wouldn't accidentally knock one of the kids over while running amongst them.

"Any moment now," I muttered to myself, feeling rather uncomfortable just waiting there as the occasional gym member walked past me, frowning as they visibly wondered why there was someone crouching by the top of the stairs. I stared back curiously, but every single one turned right towards the hallway that led to the locker room.

I stood up to leave after twenty more minutes of nothing, only to find a group of older women bustling up the stairs, headed straight for the track. Without much thought, I awkwardly scurried in and started walking along the path as they flooded in, cursing under my breath. It was one of the exercise groups that frequented the gym, which consisted of a group of elderly neighborhood ladies who warmed up by walking and then took over one of the cardio rooms for pilates. They met about once or twice a week to go around and exercise in a crowd, but then they went to congregate at the buffet down the street as soon as class was over.

I'd heard their instructor confront them about what was wrong with that plan once, but one of them—presumably, the leader of the herd—had gone and told the instructor to mind his business. Which, fair enough.

Then, because why not, the middle school students who trained karate at the other side of the gym decided to join the track as well, dozens of kids in gis suddenly inundating the track. The karate class—which was excessively over-crowded ever since some animated fighting movie came out a few months ago and a whole bunch of little kids realized their true calling—had also decided that today they'd warm up by running a few laps around the indoor track.

And suddenly, there were too many damn people populating the narrow lane that wrapped around the perimeter of the second floor. I glanced around nervously while walking between either herd, trying not to get caught up in the ruckus. I glared down at my feet once I felt myself beginning to panic, maintaining an even stride even though my legs felt weak all of a sudden.

You would think either group would decide to leave considering how unsafely packed the indoor track suddenly was... but no such luck.

They didn't seem to mind being all squished up here either, casually strolling along a narrow floor that had a mediocre weight limit and a considerably more mediocre four-foot rail meant to keep us from an unpleasant drop to the court below.

"You're so damn slow!" one of the ladies complained when I slowed down to check the premises for any new faces.

"Oh Norma, calm down!" another lady scolded her friend.

I quickly apologized to Norma before picking up the pace, trying to keep my eyes on the single door that led into the track just in case anyone else walked in.

"What exactly am I looking for?" I muttered under my breath, realizing I hadn't really thought this through beyond getting up here during class. Perhaps it was silly, but part of me had just felt like... I'd know? Like I'd lock eyes with the culprit and it would be obvious.

What I'd do after that was anyone's guess. Probably not confront them.

Still, the tightness in my chest was harder to ignore as the minutes went by. I could feel myself growing increasingly restless, eyes darting around looking from face to face just waiting to see judgment in one of their faces. Or something, anything.

Recognition, perhaps?

I didn't quite now, but I kept looking around with the determination of someone who did.

I tolerated the occasional elbow jab as people shoved past me anytime I slowed down to inspect a new walker, unwillingly doing a few dozen laps while scouting around. I also kept glancing down at Jonah and the kids, trying to distract myself with how much fun they were having to stop myself from walking out too early.

It was another half hour before I officially gave up. As I was leaving, I did glance back one last time, exasperatedly huffing under my breath after wasting so much time on nothing; I would have to wait another week until Jonah could cover for me once more to try this again.

"Well, that was dumb," I muttered while heading out the door, suddenly slamming into what I initially assumed to be a literal wall, and stumbling back before falling right beside the closing door. I stared at the intimidatingly built man in front of me in sheer disbelief, unable to form any words as cold, angry blue eyes glared back.

The wall of muscles in a black tank top remained silent from where he was also sprawled on the floor in front of me, slowly pushing himself up to his feet and walking back down the stairs instead of trying to get into the indoor track. I caught a final glimpse of his short, brown hair before rushing to my feet, realizing I should probably apologize.

"I'm sorry!" I yelled out, cursing under my breath when I jolted him due to my sudden outburst. He nearly lost his footing, tightly gripping the railing before turning back to shoot me a dirty glare. I could myself cowering under his scrutiny, evading his eyes as best as I could.

I wasn't wearing my work clothes, so there was a chance he wouldn't know to report me, but what if he was a regular and recognized me somehow? I certainly faintly recognized him as a gym regular, even if I couldn't recall exactly what area of the gym he frequented.

I'd for sure ogled at his firm ass or wide pecs at one point or another, though. Or at the very least scoffed at the sincerely disrespectful size of his biceps...

"Wait, I'm—" I said while rushing down the stairs to catch up to him, nearly slipping down the third step and clinging onto the rail just in time to avoid accidentally crashing into him once more.

"What do you want?" the man asked, looking unbearably fit and uncomfortably tall.

"I—" Uh, what did I want to say? "I'm sorry?"

"Yeah, I heard you the first time," he snapped in response, clearly growing more irritated with every passing second of his wasted time. I could tell he was judging me in his head, but at least he had the courtesy not to annihilate me in person.

"Well, that's good... because I am," I stammered while trying to take another step, slipping, and falling hard on my ass. I hissed under my breath, wincing. "Sorry, sorry; I'm alright."

He glared at me with furrowed eyebrows, briefly reaching out before dropping his hand altogether. "Are you usually this bad at walking?"

"Huh?" I asked before clearing my throat, my mouth a lot drier than I'd realized. I could barely form words, not that my mind would've formulated any when I was so busy panicking. My silence earned me an eye roll.

"Whatever, man," the stranger replied before walking off, frowning back at me one final time before heading towards the weight room. As he walked away, I noticed him furiously rubbing his forehead.

"Well... that could've gone better," I muttered weakly, grumbling into my hands before scrambling back to class.

-Mason-

I knew something was wrong as soon as I peeked through the window and saw that the usual guy was not the one teaching today. And of course, I shrugged it off whilst walking up the stairs, giving myself a half-assed pep talk about how I didn't really care if the same instructor was here or not, even if he was the only reason that I'd started warming up for my sets by jogging around the indoor track instead of running on the treadmills like I usually did.

"Now like I even know his name," I grumbled while making it to the top of the stairs and reaching for the door.

Then... chaos.

A fury of emotions rushed through me the moment I was suddenly slammed into, with the first being fear regarding how I could've almost fallen down the stairs had we crashed into each other any sooner, and the rest being varying degrees of shock because suddenly he was... right there.

He was right in front of me, also unceremoniously sprawled on the floor.

I gazed into his expressive, brown eyes, as they pooled with worry. I could only stare, finding myself unable to formulate thoughts, let alone words. I greedily took in every aspect of his astonished, freckled face now that he was right in front of me, up close. My eyes followed the beads of sweat trailing down his light brown skin, near his temple, as they glided down his neck, getting temporarily lost in the expanse of his gulping throat.

And then I was pulled back to reality by my own nervousness, realizing we were both just awkwardly staring at each other. All I could do was frown back, enthralled by the way his whole face scrunched up into a shy frown as a furious blush crept across his face, his bottom lip growing fuller as he pouted at me—as if begging for mercy.

My brain must've completely shut down; first, I was searching through his face one last time before I fled, desperately trying to commit every adorable feature to memory, and then next moment I was dashing down the stairs without giving it a second thought. I heard him yell out an apology, which scared the absolute shit out of me, but not even that could stop me.

I still didn't know his name, yet it didn't even cross my mind to ask him, what with all the turmoil brewing up within me.

I was such a fool. I knew his damn teaching schedule, but not his name? And in my defense, I only even knew that because I'd finally noticed a large poster of the gym's scheduled classes and activities attached to the first floor's main door a few days prior. Sure, it wasn't like I hadn't eagerly looked it over when I realized the schedule aligned with his class, but...

That was beyond the point.

It wasn't like I'd asked to suddenly care so much about someone I hardly knew either. But here I was, most likely caught pathetically pining after a stranger.

"Wait, I'm—" he called out through ragged breaths, clearly panicking as he tried to chase after me.

I had no clue as to what to say other than... he was mesmerizing. I obviously didn't say that aloud, but it was certainly all I could think about as I grumbled back in a feeble attempt to get him off my back. I glared hard, hoping he'd back off so I could go hide in the safety of the weight room. He peered up at me expectantly, worriedly running his fingers through his disheveled, wavy black hair.

A few loose strands cascaded over his eyes, but nothing could hide the endearingly worried expression on his face. It shouldn't have been so endearing coming from a grown man, but I could feel my heart aching to comfort him.

He nearly tripped, which caused my whole body to tense up. But then he was still talking from where he was sitting near the bottom of the steps, forcing a sheepish smile for my sake... and all I knew was that I needed to get the hell away from him before I made myself appear any more unapproachable. Or worse, he recognized me.

So, I fled, but not before accidentally spewing some rude remark I'd certainly regret later...

Damn it.

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A/N: Thank you for reading. Please consider voting and commenting; I appreciate it immensely.