#vip:start

“If you think I don’t notice you eyeing me, your sadly mistaken.” Stella broke the silence with her monotone voice.

heart pounds at the bass threatens to destroy her ears’ perfect condition. the thumping beat, electric and energy -- fueling, urge her on as if it were on the sidelines: faster delia. harder delia. more. sweat drips down her body, oceanic hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, stray pieces fanning her shiny porcelain. a smacking sound fills the empty room, walls made for noise to bounce off them and fill the previously quiet space. now, the only sounds are her pants, grunts, and a combination of skin, bone, and tape hitting leather. her hazel hues are focused, darken to a rich chocolate with the intensity of the sport. her sneakers make soft pats against the plastic, wood - looking floor as her right arm swings, so powerful it causes the punching back to swing like a pendulum. through her tunneled gaze, a figure comes into view -- a groan leaves her rosy lips as her tall form, clad in a neon yellow sports bra and a pair of black leggings, leans against the bag, arms landing on both sides of the swinging leather, stopping it and using it to support her weight as she leans forward. ripping out the white buds from her ears, she says through gritted teeth, “this room is occupied, and unless you have a fuckin’ good reason for interupptin’ -- get the hell out. now.”