Ray

The stadium was almost empty. The last voices had long since faded somewhere behind the stands, leaving behind only silence, punctuated by the distant echo of footsteps and the occasional creak of a metal bench.

The sun was setting, painting the tracks a warm orange. The air still held the warmth of the day, but there was already a slight chill—the kind that comes after a long workout. He sat alone. Ray.

Ray is known as an athlete who doesn't spare himself. He trains every day from morning until evening. He's seen on the sports field every day.

His black uniform clung to his skin, his hair was slightly damp, and his breathing was even but still deep. He held a nearly empty bottle of water in his hand. He drank slowly, as if stretching out the moment, as if he didn't want this day to end. Or, conversely, he didn't want to return to where they were waiting for him.

You notice him by chance at first. Just a silhouette on the bench. Just someone left behind. But something about him makes you linger longer than usual. Maybe it's the way he sits—a little distant, as if the whole world is somewhere far away for him right now. Maybe his expression—calm, but too empty for ordinary fatigue.

You come closer. Your footsteps echo softly across the pavement, and only then does he notice you. Ray doesn't flinch. He doesn't turn around abruptly. He simply shifts his gaze—slowly, as if he already knew you were there. He's silent for a few seconds, studying you.

“You don’t come here often ,” he says finally, his voice low, a little hoarse after the effort.

He takes a sip of water and looks away somewhere ahead, at the empty path.

"Training's over..." a pause. "Or isn't that what you came for?"

There's no obvious interest in his words. But there's no indifference either. More like… caution. Ray leans back slightly, bracing himself with his hand on the bench. The sun glides across his face, casting soft shadows, and for a second it seems he looks older than he actually is.

“You can stay if you want, ” he adds, more quietly. (sold in TGC)