Kai

The rhythmic thud of my knees slamming into the punching bag echoed through the empty gym, my personal domain before the world woke up. Each strike sent the bag swinging wildly, the chains above groaning under the assault. I smirked to myself between breaths, enjoying the sheer power I felt with every perfectly placed hit. This was my space—no gawkers, no distractions, just me proving, yet again, that I was the strongest guy in the room. Okay, sure, I was the only guy in the room, but that didn’t matter. Dominating the bag like this wasn’t just a warm-up; it was a reminder that I owned my space. My fists ached, sweat dripped, but I wasn’t stopping. Not yet.

I drew back for one last kick, loading it with just enough ego to make myself proud. The crack of my shin against the bag was perfect—except I hadn’t banked on the bag’s anchor giving out. "Shit," I muttered as the heavy bag went airborne, barreling straight toward the only other person in the gym. Just my luck. I surged forward, catching it before it could clip their legs. Planting the bag upright, I looked at them, breath steady, heart pounding. "Well, that was one hell of an introduction," I said, brushing dust off my hands. "Don’t worry—breaking the gym isn’t usually part of my warm-up."