The next morning started early.
Jack stepped into the private gym inside one of his dad's studio buildings. The place looked more like a professional training center than a regular gym. Polished hardwood floors covered half the space for agility drills. The other half held racks of weights, cable machines, squat cages, and benches that looked barely used.
Jack whistled quietly while walking farther inside.
"Okay. This is definitely not the YMCA."
A tall guy near the squat rack turned around when he heard Jack's voice. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, built like someone who had spent most of his life around barbells. Short dark hair, clean beard, and a clipboard tucked under one arm.
"You must be Jack," the man said while walking over.
"That obvious?"
The guy grinned and held out his hand. "Name's Marcus. Your dad asked me to train you for the next couple of months."
Jack shook his hand.
"Appreciate you helping me out," Jack said. "Though I should warn you, I haven't seriously trained since high school football."
Marcus glanced at him up and down.
"That's fine. You already have a decent frame and athletic base. My job is just shaping it the right way for the role."
Jack nodded while looking around again.
"So what's the plan. Run until I throw up?"
Marcus chuckled while flipping the clipboard open.
"Relax. First day is assessment. I want to see your mobility, balance, and strength levels before we push anything heavy."
Jack rolled his shoulders slowly.
"The doctor cleared me a month ago, so everything should be good."
"Your dad mentioned the injury," Marcus said while pointing toward the open training mat area. "Start with some dynamic warmups."
Jack followed the instructions. He did arm circles, hip rotations, light lunges, and bodyweight squats. Marcus watched closely and took notes on his clipboard.
"Shoulder looks stable," he muttered. "Ankle too."
Jack dropped into another squat. "I heal fast."
Marcus raised an eyebrow but kept observing. "Alright. Let's check strength."
They moved to the bench press station.
Marcus loaded a light bar first. "Warm up with fifteen."
Jack laid back and pushed through the set easily.
Marcus added more weight.
"Now ten."
Jack finished the second set with steady breathing.
Another plate went on.
"Let's see a clean five."
Jack pushed the bar up slowly. Muscles in his chest and arms tightened while he finished the final rep.
Marcus nodded with quiet approval.
"Not bad. Is this really your first time in a gym workout?"
Jack sat up and nodded, "Yeah. I guess, football conditioning sticks with you longer than you'd think."
Next came pull-ups.
Jack grabbed the bar and pulled himself up eight times before dropping to the floor.
Marcus tapped the clipboard again and mumbled, "Solid base strength."
They switched to dumbbells next.
They did shoulder presses, bent rows, and core exercises.
After forty minutes, Jack leaned against a rack to catch his breath.
Marcus walked over and gave him a bottle of water. He looked slightly impressed. He said, "You did better than most actors on their first day."
Jack drank half the bottle and took a deep breath. Then he looked at Marcus and said, "Please tell me you didn't just insult half your clients."
Marcus laughed. "I train athletes too, so I have high standards."
Jack wiped sweat from his forehead. "So how buff are we trying to get here?"
Marcus leaned back against the rack. "Your dad showed me concept art for the character. Athletic but believable. Think basketball player build."
Jack nodded slowly.
"Lean muscle. Explosive movement."
"Exactly," Marcus replied. "Strength training four days a week. Agility and conditioning twice a week. Recovery work on Sundays. And you'll have to follow a diet plan."
Jack stared at him.
"That sounds like a full-time job."
Marcus gave a calm smile. "For the next few months, it basically is."
Jack stretched his arms above his head. "You know what. I'm actually looking forward to it."
Marcus closed the clipboard. "Good. Because tomorrow we start the real work."
Jack glanced toward the weight racks again and grinned, "Well, how hard can it be?"
...
[4 days later]
Four days later, Jack discovered the answer to his own question: It was very hard.
Jack lay flat on the gym floor, staring at the ceiling while trying to remember how breathing worked. Every muscle in his body felt like it had been replaced with wet cement. His arms refused to move. His legs felt heavier than the barbell plates stacked across the room.
Marcus stood over him, holding the clipboard like a man completely unimpressed by human suffering.
"Get up," Marcus said calmly.
Jack slowly turned his head without lifting it off the floor. "I would love to, but I feel like a 90-year-old man with a broken hip, who is trying to get up from his bed to go to the bathroom."
Marcus flipped a page on the clipboard. "You said you heal fast."
"I heal fast from injuries," Jack corrected while groaning quietly. "This feels like legal torture."
Marcus crouched next to him and pointed at the digital clock on the wall.
"Break time ends in thirty seconds."
Jack closed his eyes.
"I regret everything I said on day one."
Marcus smiled a little.
"Most people do around day three."
Jack rolled to his side and pushed himself upright. The motion alone felt like climbing a mountain. His legs shook slightly when he stood up.
Marcus walked toward the sled machine on the turf area and said, "Conditioning round."
Jack stared at the sled like it had personally betrayed him.
"You already made me do squats."
"You did five sets."
"I did five sets of death."
Marcus started loading plates onto the sled. "Explosive power training improves your acceleration. That matters for football and stunt work."
Jack walked over slowly and grabbed the sled handles. He said, "My football coach never hated me this much."
Marcus stepped back and pointed down the turf lane.
"Push to the end."
Jack leaned forward and drove his legs.
The sled moved, slowly at first. Then it gained a little speed. His thighs burned halfway down the lane. His lungs started screaming for air near the end.
He crossed the line and collapsed over the handles.
Marcus glanced at the stopwatch.
"Good time."
Jack didn't move.
Marcus pointed back toward the starting line.
"Three more. C'mon, you can do it."
"I am beginning to suspect you enjoy this," Jack looked up at him with dead eyes.
"I enjoy progress," Marcus shrugged.
And thus, the training session continued...
...
[Sunday | Jack's House]
Jack was snoring loudly.
The sound rattled faintly in his chest and escaped through parted lips while he sprawled across the living room couch like someone who had fought a small war and lost. One arm hung off the side of the couch, and his shirt had twisted slightly at the waist. A folded towel sat beneath his head as a makeshift pillow.
Haley stepped inside after Sarah opened the front door.
"Hi, Mrs. Preston," Haley said as she slipped off her sneakers near the door.
Sarah smiled warmly and stepped aside to let her in. "Hi, Haley. Come on in."
Haley walked into the living room and immediately noticed Jack stretched across the couch. She slowed to a stop and leaned slightly toward Sarah while lowering her voice.
"Oh," she murmured.
Sarah followed her gaze and laughed softly as another long snore escaped Jack's mouth.
Haley folded her arms and tilted her head while studying him with quiet curiosity.
"I feel like I shouldn't disturb him," she said.
"You would probably need a cymbal next to his ear to wake him right now," Sarah replied.
Haley looked back at Jack again. "Is it really that bad?"
Sarah nodded toward the couch. "Training week."
Haley stepped a little closer and looked down at him. His hair was messy, and his arm muscles still looked tense even in sleep. One knee hung halfway off the cushion as if gravity had lost interest in keeping him organized.
'Aww! He's so cute. I want to poke his cheeks,' she thought as a smile slowly formed on her face.
"He looks completely defeated," she whispered.
"That description is very accurate," Sarah said with a quiet laugh.
Another snore rumbled out of Jack.
Haley quickly covered her mouth to keep herself from laughing out loud.
Sarah gestured toward the kitchen. "Come on. Let's let the poor guy stay unconscious while we do a little catching up."
Haley nodded and followed her.
As soon as they stepped into the kitchen, Haley lifted the front of her shirt slightly to let some cold air in.
"It's really hot today," she said.
Sarah opened the freezer and pulled out a pitcher filled with crushed ice and bright red liquid. She grabbed a tall glass from the cabinet.
"Watermelon slushy," she said while filling the glass. "I made a batch earlier."
Haley's eyes lit up immediately. "That sounds amazing."
Sarah put a thick straw in the glass and handed it to her.
"Thank you," Haley said as she sat on the chair near the counter and took a long sip, then another, and her shoulders relaxed almost instantly as the cold drink settled in. "Haaaa... That might be the best thing I've had all week."
Sarah leaned casually against the counter. "I'm glad you like it."
Haley wiped a bit of condensation from the glass and stirred the slushy slowly with the straw.
"So this training week must be intense."
Sarah nodded toward the living room. "Marcus has been pushing him hard."
Haley looked slightly concerned. "Is he really okay?"
"He's fine," Sarah said with a chuckle. "He is just sore. He hasn't trained like that in a long time or more like never."
Haley continued stirring her drink thoughtfully. "He never said anything about his training being this intense."
Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Jack rarely complains."
"That sounds exactly like him," Haley said with a small laugh.
She glanced toward the living room again.
"He looks like someone unplugged him."
Sarah nodded in agreement. "Yesterday he walked into the house like a seventy-year-old man after leg day."
Haley laughed. "I wish I had seen that."
"You would have enjoyed it," Sarah said. "He tried to sit down at the dinner table and missed the chair by a full inch."
Haley nearly choked on her drink. "There is no way."
Sarah covered her mouth while laughing. "He insisted that he meant to do it."
Haley shook her head with a grin. "That sounds exactly like him."
Both of them looked toward the living room again while another snore drifted through the house.
Haley rested her elbows on the kitchen counter and watched the doorway with a soft smile. 'He's giving it his all and what am I even doing? College or something else... I can't even decide.'
"He has been working really hard lately," Haley said absentmindedly.
Sarah nodded slowly. "He wants to do well."
Haley traced the rim of the glass with her finger. "He always does."
Sarah studied her for a moment. There was something calm and certain in the way Haley spoke about him.
"So how are things between the two of you?" Sarah asked casually.
Haley blinked in surprise, and then a small smile spread across her face.
"Things are really good."
Sarah tilted her head slightly. "Really good?"
Haley nodded and took another sip of her slushy.
"He is kind of amazing."
Sarah laughed softly. "Only kind of?"
Haley paused for a moment as if reconsidering her wording.
"Alright. He is very amazing."
Sarah watched her with quiet amusement. "Jack says the same thing about you when I ask. So, I guess, I have nothing to worry about."
"Really?" Haley asked with a smile.
"Oh yeah," Sarah nodded. "Whenever I ask anything about you, he starts with 'we're doing great and Haley is amazing.'"
She filled another glass with the bright red slushy and dropped a straw inside. She took a slow sip before leaning back against the counter again.
"So," she said casually, "what are your plans after high school?"
Haley blinked.
Sarah continued while stirring the slushy with her straw.
"College, maybe? Or are you thinking about trying something else?"
Haley rested her chin lightly in her hand while thinking about the question. She had heard it from teachers, from relatives, and parents who spoke about future careers with serious faces and colorful brochures.
The problem was that she still had no clear answer.
...
//Haley's Confession//
Haley sat at the kitchen island, idly stirring a watermelon slushy with the straw. The ice shifted lazily in the cup while she watched it, like it might somehow help her organize her thoughts.
"You know, there's this question adults start asking you when you're like… seventeen-ish?" she said.
She nodded to herself as if everyone knew exactly what she meant.
"And everyone acts like it's a totally normal question."
She lifted her fingers to make air quotes.
"What are your plans after high school?"
Haley exhaled slowly and sank a little deeper into the chair.
"That question."
She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice.
"The one I have been successfully dodging for like… two years."
Counting on her fingers, she went through the list.
"Teachers ask it. Mom asks it. Relatives ask it at Thanksgiving while they're holding pie."
Her mouth twisted into a small grimace at the memory.
"And I have perfected the art of smiling, nodding, and saying something vague like, 'I'm exploring my options.'"
For a moment, she stirred the slushy again, watching the red ice swirl around.
"But today," she continued, "Jack's mom just casually dropped it. Like we were talking about the weather."
She straightened slightly and mimicked the casual tone.
"'Oh, by the way, Haley, what are your life plans?'"
Haley shook her head and glanced back down at the drink.
"And suddenly I'm sitting there in their kitchen, drinking watermelon ice, while my boyfriend is unconscious on the couch from training like he's preparing for the Olympics…"
She waved a hand vaguely, still half-amused by the image.
"…and I realize I don't actually have an answer. I still haven't found my spark."
Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug.
"I mean, Jack has a plan. Football, acting, training, writing… the guy has like six life paths and somehow he's doing all of them."
A soft smile appeared despite herself.
"And I'm over here like…" She paused, then added dryly, "I make really good Instagram captions."
She sighed, though the smile lingered.
"So yeah."
A small, nervous laugh slipped out.
"The question I was most afraid of… came from the nicest person possible… while handing me a slushy."
She looked down at the cup again and stirred it slowly.
"Which somehow made it more terrifying."
Then she looked up.
"What if she's disappointed at my answer and thinks that I am not good enough for her son? Oh my god! I am getting cold feet. I want to lie and make up something, but..."
She smiled with a nod.
"I don't think I should lie."
//Haley's confession End//
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