Craig Leo
The Betrayer of Hope and Devourer of Donuts
@Zangyl
Melle didn't bother to bring his music to today's workout session. The only music he needed was the sound of his padded fists colliding with the heavy punching bag. Each impact came quickly one after the other, following a rhythm buried deep in his mind and the resulting sounds filled the gym with his very own song.
It had taken him about 10 minutes to get into the right rhythm as he'd found that he hadn't particularly enjoyed the morning. It started when he wasn't able to secure his favorite breakfast, or his favorite breakfast spot. Despite the slow start, he'd already worked up quite the sweat and was feeling both amped and relaxed at the same time. His workout attire, a simple tank top and a pair of sweat pants, also helped keep him in a good mood.
Melle worked his way through his routine silently, letting himself slowly get lost in the repetition of hitting the heavy bag.
"Hey, look who it is. It's the old man." A voice cut through the noise of the gym, causing Melle to instantly stop what he was doing and turn around. He was facing two third year students. The speaker wore a wild smile and his friend didn't seem to know what to do. "Better be careful hitting that bag so hard. You'll break a hip."
The student that had spoken was laughing and not even a very stern glare from Melle was able to silence it. Only when his friend spoke, failing to keep a whispered tone, did the laughing stop. "Are you crazy?! Don't bother this guy. I've heard he's killed people."
"Hah! As if he could beat me. He's just all bark." the third year student eyed Melle with a look of disgust. "I saw his last fight with Christian. He got his ass beat, hands down."
Melle could hear his teeth grinding against each other, the sounds melding together with the popping of his knuckles. His glare could've set people ablaze.
"It was such an easy fight, too. I heard Christian say that he didn't even need to try. Talked about how he could probably beat Old Man Melle in his sleep."
"He said what!?" Melle's shout may not have been has deep or gruff as it could've been, but the intensity of it was enough to make up for the higher tone of his voice.
"No! He didn't say anything like that. Honest. This guy just likes to make things up." The loud mouth's friend tried to cool things down, but the damage had been done. Melle was way too angry to have heard what he tried to clarify.
Spinning around, Melle threw one last punch at the bag and his anger fueled punch lifted it off of the ground. The sound it made echoed through the gym like a gunshot, silencing the entire room.
Melle stormed off, heading straight for Christian's office.
10 minutes later, his anger still boiling, Melle burst through the doors of that office. He was shouting before the doors even fully opened.
"Alright you pompous bastard! I've had it with you and thinking you're better than all of us just because you're some royalty. You and me! Right now."
Melle didn't bother to bring his music to today's workout session. The only music he needed was the sound of his padded fists colliding with the heavy punching bag. Each impact came quickly one after the other, following a rhythm buried deep in his mind and the resulting sounds filled the gym with his very own song.
It had taken him about 10 minutes to get into the right rhythm as he'd found that he hadn't particularly enjoyed the morning. It started when he wasn't able to secure his favorite breakfast, or his favorite breakfast spot. Despite the slow start, he'd already worked up quite the sweat and was feeling both amped and relaxed at the same time. His workout attire, a simple tank top and a pair of sweat pants, also helped keep him in a good mood.
Melle worked his way through his routine silently, letting himself slowly get lost in the repetition of hitting the heavy bag.
"Hey, look who it is. It's the old man." A voice cut through the noise of the gym, causing Melle to instantly stop what he was doing and turn around. He was facing two third year students. The speaker wore a wild smile and his friend didn't seem to know what to do. "Better be careful hitting that bag so hard. You'll break a hip."
The student that had spoken was laughing and not even a very stern glare from Melle was able to silence it. Only when his friend spoke, failing to keep a whispered tone, did the laughing stop. "Are you crazy?! Don't bother this guy. I've heard he's killed people."
"Hah! As if he could beat me. He's just all bark." the third year student eyed Melle with a look of disgust. "I saw his last fight with Christian. He got his ass beat, hands down."
Melle could hear his teeth grinding against each other, the sounds melding together with the popping of his knuckles. His glare could've set people ablaze.
"It was such an easy fight, too. I heard Christian say that he didn't even need to try. Talked about how he could probably beat Old Man Melle in his sleep."
"He said what!?" Melle's shout may not have been has deep or gruff as it could've been, but the intensity of it was enough to make up for the higher tone of his voice.
"No! He didn't say anything like that. Honest. This guy just likes to make things up." The loud mouth's friend tried to cool things down, but the damage had been done. Melle was way too angry to have heard what he tried to clarify.
Spinning around, Melle threw one last punch at the bag and his anger fueled punch lifted it off of the ground. The sound it made echoed through the gym like a gunshot, silencing the entire room.
Melle stormed off, heading straight for Christian's office.
10 minutes later, his anger still boiling, Melle burst through the doors of that office. He was shouting before the doors even fully opened.
"Alright you pompous bastard! I've had it with you and thinking you're better than all of us just because you're some royalty. You and me! Right now."