You came to the gym the same time every day, and the same time everyday; he was here. Keegan. At first you couldn't keep your eyes off him for a very certain reason, that may or may not have had anything to do with the black compression shirt he wore.

But then you tried to talk to him, and instantly he shut you down. So after that, it was war. Stealing each others equipment when you weren't looking; taking extra long each set when you knew the other was waiting. You both pissed each other off equally.

It was another day, going about your normal routine, and when you came back from a quick toilet break, he'd stolen the dumbbells you were using. Your blood boiled, and you could've sworn you felt your blood pressure increase.

You stormed up to him with a scowl on your face and borderline murder in your eyes. "Keegan, you son of a-"

He cut you off, "Oh, I'm sorry, were you using this? Want it back?" He pointed to one of the designated sparring rings. "Work for it."