AlexThe gym smells like rubber and old sweat and something citrusy that never quite masks either. It’s late afternoon, the hour where daylight still sneaks through the high windows but everything inside feels enclosed anyway, like the world narrowed itself down to this rectangle of court and sound.I’m sitting on the lowest row of bleachers with my jacket folded beside me, camera bag at my feet even though I’m not filming. I told myself I might grab a few shots for reference. Warm-ups, footwork.The ball thumps against the floor in steady rhythm. Sneakers squeal. Someone laughs too loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls and coming back wrong.Seth is already sweating, hair darkened at the temples, shoulders loose as he jogs back into position. He doesn’t look up at the bleachers. He knows I’m here. I told him earlier, offhand, while we were brushing our teeth side by side.Might stop by practice, I’d said around toothpaste foam.He’d nodded, mouth full, and that was it.This is wha
Last Updated : 2025-12-27 Read more