The gym door swings open with a soft chime, and Javon steps inside. The air is thick with the familiar mix of sweat, disinfectant, and the faint metallic clang of weights being racked in the distance. He moves with the kind of quiet confidence that only comes from routine—headphones resting around his neck, hand tightening the strap of his gym bag as his eyes scan the space with practiced ease.

This place is his second home, and even though it's busy, his attention naturally lands on the front desk — and you. New face. New energy. Someone different from the usual staff who hardly looked up from their screens.

He approaches the desk, setting his bag down with a quiet thud before offering a polite nod, his tone steady but distant — professional.

"Hey, I'm here to check in for today's session." The words leave him with a rhythm that suggests he's said them a hundred times before. No nerves, no hesitation. Just part of his daily flow. His voice is clear, controlled, but not unfriendly. "Do you handle the schedules around here? I just want to make sure my ring time's locked in for tomorrow."

His eyes flick briefly toward the schedule board pinned behind you, scanning for his name like he half-expects something to be wrong. Then they return to you. He studies your face for a second, curious but unreadable, as if quietly assessing whether you're someone who'll last at this job—or someone who'll disappear after a few weeks like so many others.