Antony

I come from a rich family, my house is almost as big as the school I attend and just as well staffed. So I have no ground to stand on when reviewing the quality of a building. Is what I usually think, but I’ve never seen anything quite like this.

It was practically derelict, the sign was hanging off the wall and the door was neither open nor closed, just suspended in limbo.

The brown paint was peeling revealing dark, tired wood underneath. There are a few bullet holes and scratches from who knows what or when scattered around to make sure that no one would ever think of going inside.

And yet, here I am. Oddly, not alone.

The gym that I was previously looking at was shabby, but this guy next to me is on a whole other level.

He’s sitting on the curb in front of me, watching the building as if it was about to take off. He has white hair and a slumped posture. He’s also sitting down so for the moment I’m not sure how tall he is.

I wonder what exactly he’s waiting for?

“Are you going to sign up?”

He turned his head to look at me, it was nonchalantly done so I came to the conclusion he already knew I was here.

“Nah, no cash.” He replied

“No money?” I chuckled, truly, money was one man’s trouble and another’s bane. “Actually I can help you with that if you want. This place is probably cheap as anything.”

“Don’t want your help.” He said, bluntly but not rudely.

“Well, I’m going to pay for it anyway. I’ll see you inside.”

I walked past him, his cold eyes following me as I crossed the road and entered the tatty building.

Money was one of the only things I had an abundance of, thanks to rich parents and only child syndrome.

I have to thank my classmates and long periods of time spent away from my family for me not growing up a complete arsehole.

I may not be a stellar character but I could be a lot worse.

For now, I’ll pay for the guy outside, this might be more fun if there was someone to enjoy it with. He was still watching me through the half-open door.

As soon as I handed over the money he got up and walked in.

“You really did that?”

“Of course, I don’t tell lies.” That was a lie, I always tell lies.

He chuckled in response. “Right.” He stated, slightly sarcastically.

The receptionist is now looking at me like I’m a loony, I might be just a bit. Who pays for a homeless guys gym membership?

“I’m ain’t paying you back, you know?”

“Yeah, I expected that.”

He nodded and stepped forward to take his card from the receptionist who decided to stay out of other people’s business. Quite wise.

We walked into the empty gym side by side.

There was an eerie feeling to it. It was silent, but there was sound. It was empty but the room held expectations of the people attending, I could hear people training, coaches shouting and feet and hands colliding with various training equipment.

It had standards. I heard the victory shout of strong men and women, the pain, and disappointment of the loser. The pressure of becoming the best, beating down on the heart and mind of every person that stepped inside.

And it held hope. The hope that, someday, someone will come along and, just like in the old times, become big, become strong, become the best.

The dusty trophies in the glass cabinets served testament to success long past.

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There were weights off to the side, some punching bags and robots that looked like sparring robots. In the centre, something miraculous. It was what provided most of the ambiance and story, the thing that made me hear all those sounds.

The polished wooden floor, encased by a large red square.

Magnificent fights containing miraculous moments, spectacular endings and mind-boggling upsets - All taking place on that floor.

I was positively dazed by the atmosphere, I briefly looked to my left where I found the homeless guy’s eyes contained the same wonder and amazement that I’m positive mine also held just seconds ago.

After blinking and regaining full control of my mind, the rooms aura died down and I was able to see it for what it truly was, a mess.

Gradually, new sounds came to my attention, these sounds that I previously assumed were part of my wonderful delusion were actually reality. It seemed the guy next to me just tuned in as well because he looked at me and met my eye then looked to where the sounds were coming from.

At first, it was just muffled shouting, as we approached it became clearer and clearer. The shoddy door that the sound was hidden behind had a slightly slanted sign reading ‘Manager’.

There were windows but the blinds were pulled down, granted some of them were bent out of shape. We could see a very corporate looking suit opposite a guy in a tracksuit and a woman in a shirt and trousers.

The man in the suit was the one shouting, I could make out bits and pieces but it was fragmented and unintelligible.

There were some chairs to the side of the door. I noticed the homeless guy had already taken a seat.

I sat down next to him, straightening my trousers in the process.

“Got a feeling we shouldn’t be interruptin’ that.”

“Good idea.” I replied.

We waited quietly for the shouting to finish, it died down a little at this point. Finally the door creaked open. We both looked to the door and watched as the thing in the suit exited. It was very not human. I considered myself quite well-read and familiar with other races but this one was beyond me.

His lower body was deceptively human-like. It turned out his head was twice the size of a human's and he had no ears.

It also turned out the sounds he was making were in fact not shouting but just the way he normally sounds.

This day and age is truly incredible, surprises round every corner.

As he exited the room he stole a look at the two of us and smirked. It was blatant so he obviously had no care in the world for who we were.

Next came the guy in the tracksuit who was human, at least as far as I could tell. There were a variety of bipedal races that look exactly like humans when they have clothes on.

The final person to come out was an old woman. Human life-span increased when we figured out how to manipulate DNA and other sciency things that I know nothing about.

Now the average age of a human is around 1000 years old.

Of course, with mortality rates low and the population undying, there was a very urgent need to expand beyond our planet. Which is exactly what we did.

The old woman watched the big headed man as he left, I feel compelled to explain that I do not use that in a derogatory way, just a way of describing him. The world moved past anything superficial like racism thousands of years ago, when the first of the non-human races first came to visit us.

With him gone the gym went almost silent. The man in the tracksuit started training, specifically skipping.

“Hello, Ma'am. We are new members of the gym”

“I see, well, what are you waiting for?”

“Oh, nothing, we'll get started then.”

I’m not sure why we asked, for some reason it just felt wrong to get started without asking permission or at least greeting the manager first.

I went over to the running machines and turned it on. Starting at a light jog I gradually increased the speed till I was at a reasonably fast pace. 10 minutes at this pace then 2 minutes a little faster, rinse and repeat.

I am an active person, exercise has long been away to distract myself from reality and avoid certain situations. I became very good at running thanks to the variety of trouble I often found myself in. The white haired guy had other ideas, he approached the punching bag immediately, wrapping his fists in some sort of cloth and started whaling on a punching bag.

I watched a few fights in my lifetime, I know the basics and this guy was demonstrating none of them. Barely any footwork and no body movement with the punch. Granted they seemed fast and solid, the bag made a very satisfying sound every time they collided.

The old lady was watching him closely. She had dark brown eyes, so dark they almost seemed black. Her hair would now doubt have been the same colour if not for her age, but now, it was mostly grey.

She looked like she was of Asian descent, my conclusion was drawn from her garments and the Chinese writing that surrounded the walls of the gym.

With my attention eventually being drawn away from the motionless lady, I focused instead on the task at hand.

2 hours went by, in that slow and painful way it moves when exercising. The sweat dripping off me had done well to completely soak my towel and clothes. After leaving the running machine I headed to the bathrooms which were, thankfully, a lot cleaner than the rest of the gym. The showers left more to be desired but it was sufficient for a brief train ride home, at the very least I was not going to cause any innocent passengers discomfort. As I left the bathroom the white haired guy looked up from whatever his current activity was, It looked like some sort of circuit training that included push ups and more bag punching.

“Yo, when you comin' back?” He asked, pausing briefly from hitting the bag.

“Everyday after school. It's an extracurricular activity.”

“Extracurricular? Okay, whatever man. Name's Uvo.”

Uvo? What an irregular name.

“Yeah, don't worry about it. I'm Antony.” I replied with my own name, significantly more common, I hope he won’t hold it against me.

“Aight, Ant good?”

“Yeah, Ant's fine. See you tomorrow?”

“Sure man, peace.”