JUNJIE
The sharp metallic scent of sweat and leather occupies the air as I step into the gym. The overhead lights flicker, casting a pale glow on the ring where Zian is already stretching. I walk in, my mind miles away, still replaying Yiren's messages from earlier.
Yiren working on a project downtown—alone. No matter how hard I try to push the thought away, it keeps coming back. The images of her walking through those streets, dealing with shady clients, and drunk men, are like a slow burn in my gut. I shouldn't care. I really shouldn't. We are no one. I have zero right over her personal decisions yet this one bugs me.
"About time," Zian says, bouncing on his feet, already warmed up. He throws me a pair of gloves. "You've been avoiding this, haven't you?"
I slide on the gloves, adjusting the velcro strap. "Had some things to take care of."
