TW: Mentions of self-injurious behavior (eating disorders). Proceed at your own risk.

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-Bennett-

I could feel the restlessness deep under my flesh, scratching at my skin like a frantic varmint vying for freedom. The more I waited, the more maddening it all felt, my tired eyes boring into the clock nailed above the break room's wall as I waited for the time to pass. I was a rotting husk of complaints and indecisiveness, and the mere idea of readily drowning in my own inner-turmoil felt so familiar, yet so utterly exhausting.

I didn't want it.

Not tonight. And perhaps not for as long as I had the will to outrun my own thoughts.

My tense body surged forward on its own, searching for some form of release. Anything to escape the returning rancor. I barged into the staff's locker room, hurriedly changing out of my work clothes and grabbing my water bottle before slamming the metal door shut. I released a shaky breath, avoiding a co-worker's curious frown. He just frowned up at me while packing up for the day, tilting his head.

"You good?" he asked, though I couldn't even recall his name in that moment.

I nodded my head, waving goodbye before heading back out.

Then, I strolled past the main weight room, genuinely considering stepping inside before quickly reconsidering it. There was still a dozen or so people dispersed across the room; the sound of clinking metal was quieter, but still obnoxiously prevalent. And so, I turned and headed towards the secondary weight room near the back of the gym which held the leftover shit. It was a bit out of the way and all the shiny new equipment were nowhere in sight, proudly displayed in our main rooms, but it was also peacefully barren.

I let out a sigh of relief when I didn't spot anyone inside, stretching my arms as I went. "Fucking finally," I muttered.

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I knew I was overdoing it long before my body gave out. It had only been a matter of time.

I shut my eyes tightly, my body voicing its exhaustion through deep, ragged breaths. I coughed into my arm while leaning against the far-back wall of the weight room, grimacing at the bitter, metallic taste developing in the back of my throat. Just a few mediocre sets and I was already such a lethargic mess, my body refusing to move from the spot I had stumbled back into.

I'd only gone through half of my usual workout, but I already felt nauseous as shit all the same. My legs were aching as well, but it felt too early to throw in the towel. I should be used to this much by now, right? I should be able to do more than this, and not have to merely drag my exhausted body through the motions.

So, why did it feel like hell?

"Get your shit together," I mumbled under my breath, groaning out in frustration when the nausea didn't go away. The room was still spinning, and my eyes could barely focus past the white spots clouding my line of sight. I glared at my water bottle from where it sat beside the equipment, mocking me with its sheer distance.

How could I be doing worse than last time?

Time was passing by so slowly, almost freezing at points, as I pathetically propped myself up against the wall. I was still just as restless, though the acrid frustration had boiled down into a bizarre wave of disorientation. I clenched my jaw, trying to force myself to take a step forward before helplessly stumbling back.

"What the hell?" I hissed out, unable to do much but wait. Thankfully, it was late enough that even the hallway was vacant. But that didn't make it any less disconcerting.

What the hell would Mason think?

I leaned my head back against the wall, releasing a shaky breath. There was a deep, piteous urge to let myself crumble onto the black rubber flooring beneath me, but that would mean admitting defeat. So, I clung to my stubborn pride with clenched fists, unwilling to compromise even if I detested myself for it.

"Fuck," I groaned under my breath after a few more minutes of that insufferable stagnation. I kept waiting for the dizziness to go away like it usually did, kept rubbing at my eyes and blinking hard, willing the tiredness away. Except, after what seemed like far too long to be normal, it still felt like the world was spinning around me. At least my stomach was no longer uselessly growling, though by now it has shifted into a dull ache in the pit of my gut.

I tried to take a step forward, grunting when my legs started to give in like that of a newborn fawn. I inhaled sharply as I felt hands steadying me, glancing up to see Riley standing over me. She was still in her work clothes, a disinfecting spray tucked under one of her armpits. I flashed a weak smile, only to find her glaring down at me with an apprehensive expression.

"Y-you're still here?" I asked as she held me up, gratefully leaning against her.

Riley remained quiet while helping me over to the nearby bench, carefully letting go once I was tiredly sitting. She hesitantly settled down beside me, staring ahead with what felt like confliction, messing with the spray bottle before setting it down. All I could do was watch her from the corner of my eye, trying to suppress a coughing fit while heaving into my arm.

And we both just sat there in relative silence, her eyes not meeting mine for what felt like several eternities.

"Thanks," I whispered awkwardly before coughing into my arm once more, still somewhat lightheaded and distraught.

Riley just nodded her head.

"Are you okay?" I asked, leaning back against the bench, wincing as I tried to ignore the growing need to puke. My body was complaining quite loudly by now, the nausea coming and going in waves.

"You didn't eat your lunch," she pointed out, still staring intently at the ground. "It's still in the fridge."

I sighed, nodding my head in agreement. I'd left it in the break room, worried that it'd spoil in my backpack. "Yeah. I forgot to—"

"Throw it away?" Riley asked, tone sharp and accusatory.

I grew numb, warily frowning over at her. I clenched my hands to feel something, but I felt so far away from my own body in that moment. "Huh?"

"You were going to throw it away," Riley continued, crossing her arms across her chest. She wasn't asking, even if she did anyways. "Right?"

I didn't miss the rhetorical edge, her voice dripping with sarcasm. And there was also that glint of resentment, as if I'd personally wronged her for something she couldn't possibly be sure of. I wanted to scream. I felt that restlessness simmering right beneath the surface once more, yet my legs refused to move.

"N-no. Why the hell would I do that? I was going to eat after working out," I muttered, scoffing under my breath. "I just had a big lunch earlier."

"Bullshit."

I furrowed my eyebrows, unable to gather my thoughts. "Why are you being like this?"

Riley turned towards me, finally meeting my gaze. Except, in that moment, I almost wished she never had. Her eyes were narrowed and jaded, so full of concern that I couldn't help but look away. "I'm not Jonah, Bennett."

"That's kind of rude," I mumbled, forcing a weak smile.

"Cut the shit, will you?"

I gritted my teeth, wishing I could just storm off. Except, I didn't feel quite confident that I wouldn't collapse half-way through the hallway. So, I sat there on that stupid bench, glaring back at Riley as if I had a leg to stand on. What did she think she'd achieve here?

Riley sighed once more, tilting her head. "You do it a lot."

I didn't respond.

"You know, I always thought that not taking your lunch break just meant you didn't want to bother with those measly thirty minutes," Riley explained, releasing a humorless laugh. "I understood the desire to just waste that small break away. To pretend like it wasn't even there."

I glanced up, frowning at her. "R-right."

"But then there's the fact that even when you do bring food, it always ends up in the trash by the end of the night. Untouched. Unopened."

I stared at her in muted disbelief, my chest tightening with every word.

"I couldn't make sense of that, y'know?"

I'd never seen her this irritated before, so I didn't quite know how to reply. I also didn't know she took notes of trivial things like that, though it seemed just like her. I had to force the words out. "T-that's none of your business," I muttered, but her glare just deepened.

"Maybe it's not," she pointed out before turning back towards the silent room, leaning back against the bench. "I guess that's too fucking bad, then."

I huffed at that, trying to keep my hands from shaking as I held on to my knees. "You're wrong. I've just been... busier than usual."

Riley nodded her head, and I felt like maybe she'd let it go. Like maybe that was enough of an excuse this time. I was already thinking about how to be more careful, kicking myself for not tossing out the stupid container before arriving at the gym. But there had been an inkling of indecisiveness there, and I'd though that maybe I could give it to Jonah... to not waste the money I spent on it. To convince myself, perhaps.

It all felt so stupid, looking back now.

"I'm worried about you," Riley whispered, her voice wavering. "I—I don't know why you're doing this, but it won't end well."

"Riley..."

"I'm serious, Bennett. Do you understand how reckless you're being? You're hurting yourself."

"I really just... forgot," I lied, shaking my head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're starving yourself."

I cringed at the words, shaking my head. "I'm not."

Riley sighed, rubbing at her eyes before glancing over at me. "Fine. Well, I hope you know I'm here. Even if you think I'm an annoying, nosy bitch; I'm here."

I exhaled an anguished breath, lowering my gaze. I focused on the dark, tiny circles laying splattered across the floor; the traces of sweat drops that stalked after the slightest of shoeprints, trailing from one machine to another in earnest. They were beginning to fade, but the faintest outline remained.

From where I was sitting, I could see the defilement of the flooring after a crowded eternity, the drying sweat joining an established aggregation of dust and filth. I wondered how long it would stay there, undisturbed. If it'd still be there past the early hours of the morning, when one of the janitors would somehow fail to mop this floor's room.

Nobody ever came in here. It felt futile.

"I'll stop," I lied. Not because I wanted to deceive her, but because I didn't really know how. What else could I say, when there were tears forming in the corners of her eyes, her shoulder shaking ever so slightly as she tried to maintain her composure. "I swear, Riley."

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A/N: Thank you for reading.