Two Worlds Distanced

Chapter 96

EZRA

As I stand here by the door, I feel out of place from not stepping into a gym for quite a while. I mean I walk around or even jog if I'm feeling sporty around the block everyday in the morning. Sometimes with Rachel but most likely she likes to sleep past ten on the weekends. In the week, she gets up at the butt crack of dawn, heads downstairs to the gym that the apartment complex has and does a few sets of lightweight training. With or without training, she's the most drop dead gorgeous woman that my eyes ever laid on. I need to see those brown eyes that melt me like butter on hot toast.

I walk to the front desk with a lady behind who hasn't looked up since I walked in probary because she's too busy looking on her phone, "Excuse me?" I call out loud.

"Hi, welcome to Shape In, how can I help you," she greets very unpleasantly like someone who hates her job. I don't blame her for hating this kind of job from always picking up sweaty and gross towels around the bathroom and having to see people shaking their vomit looking protein shakes to fit in their liquid diets.

"Yeah, is there any boxing or something like that here?" I ask as I look at the filled up sign up that was in front of me. She doesn't pay attention again until a guy with a mullet comes up behind her, takes her phone and she whines like she's five years old again, "I was watching that,".

"Do I look like I give a single fuck? And before you answer that, I don't. Why don't you fill the back room towel rack while I handle this client. Go!" He harshly says and picks her out of the area. He signs as plopping himself on the leather chair she was sitting on, then grabs the sign up, "Ezra Miller for boxing? Did I say your name correctly?".

I nod, "Yes. What was that about? Earlier?".

He brushes it off, and starts typing in the computer, "Just my sister Ali being a lazy bitch like she is. You know how sisters are, right?" She jokes. I wish I realt and make a joke too but it's hard too when it's been ten years since I had one but I play along, "Yeah. I understand. Do you guys possibly have personal trainers by any chance?" I questioned. The man looks up from his computer, "Yes we have three trainers and I'm Roman," he holds out his clammy hand, I look at him then at his hand before shaking it, "One of the trainers but I'm off the clock along with another trainer, Maeve,".

Shit.

"What about the other trainer?".

He looks at the computer, "He's available right —".

I throw my credit card at him, he grabs it and slides it down the credit a lot. I don't care about the amount it will be. The only thing I care about at this point is getting the anger out of me before I go back to the bar and let alcohol take the anger out.

...

Luckily I always have a change of clothing in case I get into a bloody fist fight at a bar or get in a workout like this. I changed into whatever was in the backseat in the car which was a gray shirtless tank top, black Nike basketball shorts and black shoes. Moments later, I go to the rented lockers, place my phone and wallet in it and head towards the boxing area.

I look around the area, and immediately I get a glimpse of everyone training like if their life depended on it. I never saw a gym like this with boxing ranks and multiple punching body bags. That includes having trainers who can beat your ass if they would.