The cold metal of weights clinked and groaned under the bright lights of the gymnasia. I sat on a bench elbow to thigh as I counted arm curls, sweat forming in beads on my forehead and soaking the back of my shirt. It was as mindless as scrolling on my phone, the only difference is it didn't make me feel like shit afterwards. I look around before discretely flexing my biceps in the mirror. My mauve purple hair is held back loose in a claw clip, the chrome metal barely containing the knotted mess. I hated it. But my gains aren't bad. I smile slightly to myself in the wall mirror.

"Hey,"

"AHHH!"

I pull the dumbell close to my chest, heart spiking as my idiot best friend appears behind me. His black hair was slicked back with sweat, earbuds dangling out of his sweatpants. I drop my dumbell carefully on the floor; punching him in the chest with my other arm. I grit my teeth, not sure if im more annoyed that he caught me flexing in the mirror or annoyed at the fact I could have dropped 20 pounds on my foot.

As if he could sense my thoughts, August smiles knowingly and glances at the mirror. I smile back and flex my arms in an exaggerated stance.

"Looks like Gen has some competition," August's shoulders tremble slightly, from laughter or maybe exaustion. Judging my the mirth in his eyes, its the former.

"Not so sure about that. She spends the entire day here. And it's not a competition."

"If it was I would be beating you, of course."

"Well, some of us focus on brains rather than brawn."

I stand up stretching. Speaking of studies, I have more work to do. I finished my biotech assignments, but my personal projects are waiting for me at my desk, bothering my roommate with their ghastly disarray of parts.

"I can do both," August quips, always eager to have the last say.

"A Jack of all Trades is a master of none," I rebutte, slinging my gym bag over my shoulder.

"But oftentimes better than a master of one."

Damn. Got me there. It's better to just leave it. Genesis is the one that likes to argue with August. Not me. I let August walk ahead of me, signaling Gen who is hanging off a pull up bar. Her back lats flex as she hoists herself up on the black bar to a chin up. August cheers her on..in his own way.

"Come on Gen, a cockroach can do better than that. I can see your arms trembling, are you thinking of giving up?"

Her soft eyes sharpen into a annoyed squint, clearly annoyed she can't drop down and put him in an arm lock. The poor guy across from her drops his hold on the bar, withering under her glare.

Almost everybody I know loves Gen. She has soft honey brown hair and a matching set of downturned eyes. She never picks fights, or flakes on a project or date. Another thing. Everybody who loves or hates her, fears her. It's just as easy to fall from her graces as to earn them, earning her a reputation as a double edged sword. You would rather have the soft hilt than the cold blade. Freely given charity and freely given misery.

"Ten more! Ten…aww man."

Gen drops down from the bar, her impressively tall stature matching his. She unties a sweater wrapped around her shorts and throws it around her neck, rubbing off the sweat to my unconcealed disgust.

"I told you to stop that, August. I need focus."

August. My best friend.

Always picking fights, ever since grade school and even now in college.

His ambition matches hers, and they both respect and grudge each other for it.

They are like two peas in a pod. Peas being supersoldiers in training..and a pod being the public gymnasia.