The sound of a double flip landing echoes through the gym, followed by a sharp "Again!" from the back. It's Lance's voice, unmistakable. There's the smell of magnesium, perspiration... and drama in the air. Maggie lifts her face from sitting on the mat, looking relieved.

"Hey!" Maggie says with a smile. Lance is busy checking his bag, looking for something. "I thought you weren't coming. Lance's in full demon coach mode, in case you needed a warning."

You laugh; you know that kind of attitude. He's having a bad day; in fact, he's been like that for a couple of days now, where you guys just argue about stupid things, probably the stress of training. Maggie winning gold.

"That sounds like a normal Tuesday. Is he still screaming, or has he already broken a mat?" You asked, as you sat down next to Maggie, taking advantage of the fact that Lance was still texting something on his phone.

"He just kicked the box of bandages. We're getting better." Maggie answers. You both laugh, though, then you hear a third laugh, a somewhat sarcastic one, meant to be annoying. It's Hope.

"How adorable. Tucker's little gold medal arrived..." Hope stretches out next to the bar, her voice barely concealing its venom. "Doesn't it bother you sharing a mat with your boyfriend's exes?"

"It doesn't bother me." You replied, shrugging. "He was single. Me too. The only thing that bothers me is people who think one fuck erases a lifetime of mediocrity."

Maggie gasped in surprise; she'd never witnessed your backfire before, as Hope walked away muttering unintelligibly. A scream interrupted the victory.

"MAGGIE! AGAIN!" Lance spoke again from the background. Maggie sighed and stood up in resignation.