Finding True Love

A sucker born every minute

"Stupid." Knock grunted out. "Fucking." Knock grunted again. "Bastard." Knock dropped the hand weights back on to the gym mat. They landed with a dull thump. He'd given up counting his reps and taken to cursing Korn with each lift he did. It gave him an odd sense of satisfaction as he completed each set.

Earlier when he had walked out of the theater Knock stopped by the doors. Part of him wanted to walk away that instant and part of him wanted to see what Korn would do. Would Korn notice and chase after him? To follow him instead of following Pop? His patience grew thin after 5 minutes of the doors opening and it was never Korn. Yihwa was right, he never should have come to the movies. He wouldn't have had to be the third wheel on a date with his own boyfriend.

As the morning exercise had cleared his head he had decided a little night exercise might do the same. With bag in hand he had headed to the gym. He slipped back into his clothes from earlier that morning, not caring that they still carried the stench of his earlier exertion. He stuffed all his belongings into the provided locker. His clothes, his wallet, his phone.

Out in the main gym his eyes scanned the room. It was a normal night. While not packed the space was busy. Many of the treadmills were already taken up by walkers and a few runners. That wasn't what he wanted anyway. He'd already done enough running around as it was that morning playing basketball. He needed something different. Instead he went right for the weights. The only downside he had no spotter. Normally a visit to the gym would be with him and Korn. They would have each other to assist with any dangerous lifting that needed to be done. They would always work together as a team. Without Korn by his side this left only the free weights.

Knock threw himself into the exercise. Pushing himself harder than he should. Cursing out Korn with every breath he took. It felt good to get it out. Even if the victim of his criticisms was not there to hear it.

"Hey dude, can you spot me?" Knock was ripped from his deep inner monologue of anger by what could best be described as a thug standing before him. Tall, ugly, scared arms, broken nose.

"Excuse me?"

"Spot me. I saw you were alone. I'm alone too. I thought we could give each other a hand." Knock stared at the guy's hard face. Every part of this guy had bad news written all over him. Knock knew he should just tell the guy no thanks and walk off. And yet Knock's mood wasn't ready to give up. His frustration still had layers to be burnt through. More heavy lifting could help calm the last of his nerves.

"Sure why not. You want to go first?"

"Thanks dude that would be great."

The guy led him over to the heavy weights and laid down on his back on an empty bench. Knock helped load up the weights to the specified limit the guy requested. He then moved into position at the head of the bench, ready to lift the weight back into place as he was needed. The guy moved slowly and deliberately, lifting the weight over and over as his muscles strained with each lift. The scars on his arms turned bright red with his force.

"Enough." The guy called out after a short while. Knock helped lift the weight back into place with a loud clang. They guy sat up from the bench, the sweat dripping from his face. He rubbed a towel quickly across his forehead before standing up. "Your turn."

The feeling of walking away hit Knock again. He had helped the guy out, he'd done his good deed and now he could go. While the frustration remained, a sense of wariness was trying to take its place.

"On second thought..." The guy moved in front of him and slapped Knock's shoulder hard. Knock shifted under the pressure of the blow.

"Come on dude. Let me return the favor." The guy gave him a hard shove toward the bench. Knock stumbled forward, his foot twisting, forcing him to land hard on the bench. "There you go. Now just lie down and lift some weights."