Blowing off Steam

[SharkyTGirl185]

Step, step, step, step.

The door to the gym opens up, and he steps in, tossing the bag against a wall.

(CHESTER BISSETTE - CONTINUED from The Crate Escape))

He approaches one of the punching bags hanging from the ceiling, dressed in his normal clothing. His gloves tightly held against his hands as he rubbed them, cracking his knuckles.

Embarrassed yourself in there. Can’t keep your mouth shut.

The buzzing in his ears grew as he approached the punching bag, and, taking a deep breath, he begins slamming his hands against the bag. He holds a fighting stance, throwing punches against the punching bag without much rhythm, just pure frustrations he’s taking out against the punching bag.

[Dr Adjective]

[She was in the hall, she's been in the gym, it's Heather Klein]

She's dressed to work out, but there's no telltale signs, no sheen of sweat, not a blonde hair on her head out of place. Heather didn't get here long ago. Off in the corner the young woman was in the midst of turning her headphones on and deciding on some music when the sounds of Bissette's entrance reached her. A creak, an impact somewhere between a slump and a slam. She looked up in time for the first punches to land. Gloves on, but street clothes. Odd.

Heather straightened up, hung her headphones around her neck, and crossed her arms over her chest. Her head tilted slightly as she observed, brow furrowing in distaste at the lack of form.

[Fiori]

"I'm telling ya man, it's been REAL weird seeing Hamiton in red..."

A young man with a distinct - one might even say iconic - pompadour burst through the door, loudly talking and laughing on his phone as he strutted in like he owned the place.

But this wasn't just any old rooster clucking away on his fancy Samsung. This was Johnny freakin' Benowitz, star player of the Rattlers baseball team and all-around Coolest Guy™ at Red Rock... Or at least that's what it says on his Instagram profile.

"Oh yeah, did you hear about what happened to Horror Club? Crazy shit man, heard they were watching a hardcore sex scene or something when the Principle walked in..."

He barely acknowledged the others in the room, casually sauntering towards the wall to lean against a radiator. Whilst it was clear he was there to work out - with his white t-shirt and black sweatpants - Johnny was evidently in no rush to get started.

"Like, I don't fuckin' know man, this is Morty we're talking about. Coulda been some freaky porno for all I know. I DID hear that Mr Fraiser's on the Principal's shitlist, apparently he was just kinda sitting there the entire time! I know, right! Crazy shit!"

Johnny laughed some more, reaching up to scratch his neck before quickly checking his watch.

"Anyway man, I'm gonna fit in some lifts. Catcha later"

On that note he finally turned his phone off, prodding the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he finally took note of the others with an affirmative nod.

[SharkyTGirl185]

Bissette’s body automatically responded to the loud ruckus Benowitz caused in the only way he can: Slamming his hand hard against the punching bag in pure annoyance.

Enter in Ponyboy Curtis, having stepped into a time machine from Contemporary sixties era Continental United States to be an absolute douchebag. And he was the victim in this circumstance.

As Bisette took a step back against the bag to recollect himself, glancing around the room, he takes note of who was also in the room.

Oh. Klein. He gives a small nod at her and turned away, placing a hand on the punching bag and waiting for the human equivalency of Babe Ruth (or someone, he didn’t know baseball well) wannabe to finish his call. As soon as he did, Bisette looked at Johnny before turning back to the punching bag, continuing his sloppy punching routine.

[Dr Adjective]

Clearly, Heather picked a bad time. Her mild perfectionist streak wouldn’t let her just ignore Bissette’s terrible form, she simply had to keep a disapproving eye on it, but pairing that with sudden appearance of a flesh-and-blood escapee from some nineties-ass cartoon her dad probably watched really compounded things.

Johnny was talking a mile a minute about some dork drama. The school had a horror club? What would even be the point of that? There were vanishingly few good horror flicks you could even show in a school as far as she knew. Did I Saw The TV Glow count as horror? Maybe? She didn’t really care. Wouldn’t matter for long, sounded like they were getting shut down anyway. Maybe she’d make a show of protesting, something something free expression. Specific grievances tended to win support much better than abstract principles.

Chester gave Heather a nod. She pulled a face somewhere between a grimace and a scowl in response. She looked down at her phone for a moment, queued a bit of Gost to lift to. Prophecy, in specific. Didn’t hit play just yet. Then she looked back to the other two for a moment. Regarded them.

“Never gonna win a fight by getting mad at it.”

She directed that, obviously, at Bissette.

[Fiori]

Ah, yes. Always nice seeing the gym brimming with positive energy.

In the red corner, we had Heather Klein - The Californian Valkyrie herself. Always angry about something or other, never afraid to make sure you knew about it. She had a real "Imma cave your head in if you so much as look at me funny" energy, and he kinda had to respect her for it. Still salty about that arm wrestle, though.

In the blue corner, there was Chester Bissette - Not a guy Johnny ever really registered before now. He was always just kinda there, y'know? Sitting around looking all miserable 'n' shit. Bit of a walking buzzkill, really.

Remind you of anyone, Johnny?

His brows furrowed. He'd never admit it, but there was certainly something familiar about the way Chester carried himself. The frustration, the apathy, the transparent self-loathing. Johnny couldn't claim to know what was going on in Chester's head, but... Yeah.

"She's right, y'know..." he chimed in, slowly making his way over to where the dumbbells were located to grab a pair of weights. A little heavier than what he'd usually go for, but he couldn't go soft with Heather around.

"Gotta relax your posture. Throw in a bit of, like... Intentionality, you know?"

[SharkyTGirl185]

Bissette stopped his routine again, almost freezing up as he heard their comments about him.

Wow. Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow.

Bissette turned to Johnny, immediately annoyed from his unappreciated advice about his blowing off steam “Oh yeah, thanks. How about you stand in front of the bag? I can show you my form.” He then waves him off as he continued hitting the bag, grumbling before he turned back to Heather “And I ain’t trying to win any fight. If you’re at a point where you’re in a fight, you’re already a loser.”

He turned and continued his beating on the bag.

[Dr Adjective]

"Well, you're in a fight with something alright."

Heather shrugged, exaggerated, theatrical. Less literal meanings of fight aside, what, had he never heard of combat sports before? Like the ones punching bags were used to train for? Nah. Clearly struggling with something, maybe something Heather could've helped with if she felt like it even. But you have to want to be helped. The kid throwing god-awful punches at a bag and worse one-liners at her wasn't even receptive to advice on his form, he wasn't about to bare his soul to that asshole best known for breaking someone's nose in middle school and calling everyone a fascist.

Up came her headphones, and the violent cacophony that was Gost followed soon after. Heather turned her attention to stretching. If Bissette wanted to clap back, he could wave or something.

[Fiori]

"Woah woah, hey, chill my dude! Geeze, try to help a brother out..."

Johnny shook his head and turned to Heather, giving her an incredulous Could you believe this guy? kinda look.

"If you’re at a point where you’re in a fight, you’re already a loser."

"Yeah, well, I ain't the one here tryin' to start one pal. Just saying..." he added with a shrug, before getting back to lifting his weights.

[SharkyTGirl185]

“I-Whatever.” Bissette threw his arm up before slamming his hand on the punching bag again.

Great, you’re a Jackass now. Day that ends in Y.

He sighed, giving a few more left and right hooks in the punching bag. Jesus, what did he just say? If you’re at a point where you’re in a fight, you’re already a loser? Holy shit that was bad.

“Bad day today.” Bisette spoke again, in a tone that suggests some sorta apology for his behavior without directly saying “sorry.”

“Just wanted to blow off steam, not try and improve my game.” He stated again placing a hand on the bag as he felt his hand cramp up over his gloves.

[Fiori]

3... 4... 5... 6... Hoo boy.

Man, maybe he shoulda kept to his usual weights after all, his arms were already starting to cramp up. He was pretty sure Heather hadn't even noticed either, too busy focusing on her own stretches. Goddamnit.

Johnny paused when Bisette spoke up again, thinking for a moment before turning back with another shrug. 

"S'all good" he replied, continuing to lift his weights. 7... 

"I mean-" 8... "-I get it, y'know-" 9... "-sometimes, life throws you a curveball, and..."

10. He put the weights aside before wiping his brow. "...and its, like... We all gotta figure out our own ways of dealing with it, you get me? Maybe that's punching a bag real hard, maybe that's finding a cause to fight for..."

Johnny fired a pair of fingerguns in Heather's direction.

"Or maybe, y'know... You figure, HEY, maybe it's not too late to start afresh! Make a big comeback, figure out the REAL you..."

He felt an uncomfortable tightness in his chest, the kind he usually felt whenever Aaron started rearing his dreary head.

"Not, uh... Not that there's much you can do to improve on perfection in my case, but you get what I mean"

[Dr Adjective]

The plan, such as it was, had been to pretend not to notice Chester if he did try to get her attention again. At least for a few very annoying seconds, before innocently realising her supposed error. So there Heather was, stretching her triceps with both hands up over her shoulders, when it turned out to be Johnny that… okay maybe he wasn’t trying to gesture for her, but he definitely did gesture at her.

Her hands came down and hit pause, then Heather made a minor show of moving the right headphone off of her ear to ask simply:

“What?”

[SharkyTGirl185]

Bissette stares at Johnny for a few moment, processing the…..very interesting pep talk. He stared off at him for a few moments as Heather asked what happened. He weighed in his options carefully….

“Benowitz here was talking about the racial superiority of white people” He stated matter of factly as he turned towards back to the punching bag.

Bissette had to desperately hide the smile coming on his face from his joke. The few instances of a smile forming on Bissette’s face.

[Fiori]

There was a rather long pause as Johnny tried to process Bissette's response.

"...wuh?"

[Dr Adjective]

Heather’s right arm extended down and out, fingers splayed. She regarded them briefly, looking forward to her next appointment to add the ink she envisioned there. 1312, to be mirrored with NGNM on the left.

Then she looked up at Johnny. She didn’t know him well, but for what she did know, in addition to such a 0-60 jump in conversation topic sounding unlikely, she was skeptical. To the best of her knowledge, Johnny was a bit of a dick. Stupid hair, self-aggrandising attitude, dating a different girl every month, sure, but openly racist had never come up on her radar. And he’d never tried to flirt with her, so clearly something of a coward. Did he really jump to Team Canon in the handful of seconds she’d been effectively deafened?

Still, it wasn’t just the kind of accusation most people would toss out baselessly. She quirked a quizzical eyebrow.

“Wanna run that by me again then Pompadour?”