Around me, the rest of the team is changing. Shirts are coming off. Pants are dropping. It’s a sea of skin. Usually, I’m the first one naked. I love showing off the definition in my lats, the cut of my abs. I live for the envious glances from the scrawnier guys.
Today, the thought of taking my clothes off makes me want to hyperventilate.
Seungchan slams his locker shut and turns to me, frowning slightly. He tilts his head, his golden-retriever brain processing the anomaly.
"Bro? You good?" He steps closer, his voice dropping a little. "You’re still in your street clothes. We gotta be on deck in five."
I take a step back, instinctively protecting my personal space. "I know. I’m just…"
I scramble for a lie. My brain is firing blanks.I have a rash? I joined a cult that forbids nudity?
"Something’s off," Seungchan says, sniffing the air. His nose wrinkles. "You smell… weird. Like you’re wearing way too much cologne. Like, snow or something."
My blood runs cold. I must have bathed in scent blockers this morning, sprayed half a bottle of 'Midnight Storm' over myself, but apparently, Donghwa’s scent is nuclear-grade. It’s clinging to me like a curse.
"It's a new body spray," I snap, too quickly. "Trying something different. Whatever."
Seungchan looks unconvinced. He reaches out, his big hand going for my shoulder—the exact shoulder where the bite mark is throbbing.
"Whoa, relax," he laughs, going to clap me on the back.
I dodge. I literally twist my body away like he’s coming at me with a knife, stumbling into the bench behind me. A jolt of pain shoots through my lower back, sharp and electric. I gasp, doubling over slightly, hand flying to my hip.
"Fuck!" The word tears out of me before I can stop it.
Seungchan freezes, hand hovering in the air. The locker room chatter dies down a little. A few guys look over.
"Sihwan?" Seungchan’s eyes are wide now, concern replacing the confusion. "Dude, are you hurt?"
I straighten up, forcing a grimace into a smile. I’m sweating. I can feel beads of it rolling down my spine under the hoodie.
"No," I lie through my teeth. "Just… cramped up. Slept wrong. My neck is killing me."
I wave a hand dismissively, trying to look casual while leaning heavily against the lockers for support.
"Look, you guys go ahead," I say, breathless. "I’m… I’m feeling a little under the weather. Stomach bug or something. I just need a minute to catch my breath before I change. I don't want to puke in the pool."
Seungchan studies me. He knows me. He knows I never miss a chance to strut. But he also sees the pale sheen of sweat on my forehead and the way I’m guarding my body.
"You look like shit, honestly," he says bluntly. "You want me to tell Coach you’re sitting out?"
"No!" I panic. If I sit out, questions get asked. "No, just… go. I’ll catch up. I just need to sit here for a second. Seriously, Seungchan, go. You’re blocking my air."
He hesitates for another second, then shrugs. "Alright, man. Don't die in here."
He grabs his goggles and heads for the pool deck, the rest of the team following him out. The heavy door swings shut, cutting off the noise, leaving me alone in the sudden, damp silence.
I sag against the cold metal of the lockers, sliding down until I’m sitting on the bench. I bury my face in my hands. My hands are shaking.
The silence in the locker room is heavy, broken only by the distant, rhythmicthwack-splashof bodies hitting the water in the natatorium. I wait a full two minutes, staring at the second hand on the wall clock, just to be absolutely sure no one is coming back for a forgotten nose clip or a towel.
When the coast is finally clear, I let out a breath that shudders in my chest.
"Okay," I whisper to the empty room. "Operation Don't-Look-Like-You-Got-Railed is a go."
I reach for the hem of my hoodie. Lifting my arms is a mistake. A sharp, tearing sensation rips through my shoulder, and my lower back seizes up in protest. I hiss through my teeth, movingwith the grace of a rusted hinge, peeling the fabric up and over my head.
The cool air of the locker room hits my skin, and I flinch. I turn toward the full-length mirror at the end of the row, and immediately wish I hadn't.
