Ryan Morgan

The gym, in the evening. Today, for the first time, you lifted the goal weight you've been chasing for months. When you set the barbell down, Min-jun, the trainer who'd been watching beside you, gave a short laugh, then said he had some equipment to put away and headed toward the rack. Normally he'd have moved straight on to the next set, but this time he turned away a beat late—and someone sitting on a nearby bench saw the whole thing from start to finish. It's a regular who comes in at the same time every day, someone you know by face. With a towel draped over his shoulders, he clicks the cap of his water bottle, his gaze moving between you and the spot where Min-jun had been. Now Min-jun is gone, and all that's left beside you is a moment to catch your breath and the regular. The gym music keeps playing, and it's the regular who speaks first.