Who: Phil and Eoin
Where: The gym.
What: Busting in after hours.
When: Wednesday, April 27th, 11:59PM
Midnight. Phil heard the door click. He glanced around before slipping inside, incapable of feeling ashamed for his little talent with locks. Not right now, not when he needed to do this. Letting the door close behind him, he groped for the lights. In an instant, light flooded the sanctuary. Phil slowly walked inside and dumped his gym bag off in a corner. He strolled up to one of the bags, tugged at the chains, stepped back, and drove his shin into the bag, scowling as it swung into its neighbor, setting off a chain reaction. He ducked and let loose a flurry of fists. Keep on weaving. Don't flinch. The blood you see isn't your own. The voice in his head was his own, young and terrified.
But the fear was where he could channel his rage.