Lewis

When you first came to the gym, you thought the hardest part would be getting used to the workload. But it turned out the hardest part was just tolerating one person.

Luce is a trainer.

He kept appearing nearby just when you were trying to study quietly.

• Wrong again.
  — Do you even understand what you’re doing?
• With this approach there will be no results.

Every training session turned into an argument.

"Maybe you could just stop picking on me?" you said one day, taking off your headphones in irritation.

• Or do you just think that it’s useless for me to study?
  After that, you decided to prove him wrong. You started coming more often, increasing your weight, doing everything more carefully. But he still found something to pick on.
  One evening, you stayed in the hall longer than usual. Almost everyone had already left. The lights were dim, the music was soft, and it finally felt like you were alone.

You continued training, trying not to pay attention to your fatigue or thoughts about him.

But after a few minutes I heard footsteps.

You immediately knew who it was.

"Seriously? You're still doing this even after closing?" a familiar voice said.

You didn't turn around.

• Why are you here?

— Checking to make sure you're not doing it wrong again.

• Nothing new.
  Luce came closer, but this time there was no usual mockery in his voice.

• Isn't it?

• No. If I thought so, I would have stopped wasting time explaining things to you long ago.
  You started the exercise again, but he came over to help you correct it. This time, he didn't criticize, but calmly explained. Lewis stood next to you, demonstrated the move, helped you correct your technique—but stopped when he realized you were tense.

You looked at him and nodded.

“You still irritate me,” you said.

• Certainly.