Arlo worked out under the dim yellow light in his small, quiet room.
The only sound was his own steady breathing and the soft thud of his body moving against the old carpet.
He dropped down for his sit-ups, counting under his breath, "One, two, three…"
The window was slightly open, letting in a faint, cool breeze that carried the scent of the damp earth outside.
It had rained earlier, and the smell still lingered.
After finishing his sit-ups, he shifted to push-ups, arms shaking slightly by the last few.
He finished with jumping jacks, his bare feet brushing softly over the worn carpet as he jumped up and down, his shadow bouncing on the wall beside him.
When he finally finished, his muscles ached, and a light sheen of sweat covered his forehead.
Dragging himself to the bathroom, Arlo turned the knob and let the cold water rush over his hands.
He braced himself, then stepped in, shivering as the cold hit his skin.
He'd read that cold baths helped muscles recover faster, so he stood there, gritting his teeth against the icy water, listening to the quiet drip of water echo in the small, tiled room.
The cold prickled his skin, but he took it, feeling his heartbeat slow, his breaths calming.
After he got out, he dried off, tugged on a soft, worn T-shirt, and went to the kitchen.
He filled a mug with hot water and dunked in a tea bag, watching as the steam rose.
Arlo cupped the warm mug in his hands, relishing the heat as he shuffled back to his room.
Sitting at his desk, he opened a small notebook.
The room was silent, except for the quiet hum of the night outside, the faint chirp of crickets through the window.
He scanned the list of names he had written down before. It was his "people list," as he called it—a strange habit, maybe, but it helped him keep track of who he would exact his revenge on.
He turned to a blank page and drew a line down the middle.
On one side, he wrote "Teachers," and on the other, "Popular Girls."
He started jotting down names, first listing the ten popular girls at his school—he knew who they were, everyone did—and then the five teachers he thought were the most beautiful.
After he finished, he closed the notebook, setting it down with a soft thud, and climbed into bed.
The sheets were cool against his skin, and he pulled them up to his shoulders, staring at the screen.
{Level: 1}
{Skill: charisma}
{Mission: none}
{Daily task: Complete 100 push-ups, 100 sit ups, 100 jumping jacks}
His level was still low, and he had only 20xp.
Arlo frowned, realizing he needed to work harder.
He thought about the two missions he planned to complete tomorrow, running through the steps in his mind.
He had just learned to turn off his "charisma," a trick that might make things easier.
For now, though, he shut his eyes, letting his mind go blank as he listened to the soft rustle of the trees outside, the night settling over him.
Slowly, he drifted off to sleep.
****
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the thin curtains, casting a bright streak across Arlo's bed.
His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked, still groggy.
Glancing at the clock on his bedside table, his heart skipped—it was already 11 a.m.
He'd slept way longer than planned.
Springing out of bed, he quickly went through his morning routine.
His muscles were stiff, a reminder of last night's workout, but he pushed through, starting with sit-ups.
He counted quietly, the only sound in his room the soft creak of the bed springs with each movement.
Then he switched to push-ups, feeling his arms burn as he pushed himself to complete the set.
Finally, he ended with jumping jacks, his feet softly hitting the carpet as he bounced up and down, heart pounding in his chest.
When he finished, he was breathless but satisfied.
He quickly moved to the bathroom, twisting the tap to let warm water pour out.
He took a quick, refreshing shower, letting the warmth wash away the sleepiness and lingering soreness.
Arlo stepped out, his mind already on the day ahead.
He knew he'd be going out, and he didn't want to waste a minute.
He threw on his favorite jeans and a dark T-shirt, running a hand through his hair to tame it.
After a quick glance in the mirror, he grabbed his phone and wallet, slipping them into his pockets.
A few minutes later, he was out the door, the morning air crisp and filled with the faint smell of fresh grass and flowers.
The sky was bright and clear, and the sun warmed his skin as he walked down the sidewalk, ready to meet his friends.