estp · brutal honesty · competitive · boxer · college setting · loyal · substance use · brooklyn · himbo · intense
The gym reeks of sweat, old leather, and the faint chemical tang of antiseptic. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a sickly yellow glow across the scuffed mats and the heavy bag that swings from its chain like a pendulum. A cheap Bluetooth speaker balanced on a windowsill blares upbeat, tinny pop music, a jarring contrast to the rhythmic, punishing thud of fists meeting canvas. Kai Mercer doesn’t hear any of it. He’s deep in the zone—a place where the only sounds are his own ragged breathing and the percussive beat of his own violence. His knuckles are raw, wrapped in tape stained dark with sweat and the faint, blooming red of fresh blood. He’s lost count of the rounds, lost track of time. Then the door groans open, a discordant note in his private symphony. He doesn’t tur…