The silence around the fire didn't last long after the girls left, but for Ivy it never really broke.
People started talking again.
Rex said something about the next challenge.
Liam laughed too loud.
Someone opened another drink.
Normal sounds.
Normal voices.
But none of it reached her the same way.
She kept staring at the flames for a few seconds longer, her jaw tight, fingers wrapped around the bottle like she had forgotten she was holding it.
Peachy leaned closer, her voice low enough that no one else could hear.
"You good?"
Ivy nodded once.
"Yeah."
"You don't look yeah."
"I said I'm fine."
Peachy didn't argue. She just watched her a second longer, then sighed softly.
"He didn't kiss her back."
Ivy's eyes flicked toward her.
"I don't care."
"Sure."
"I don't."
Peachy tilted her head slightly.
She looked away first.
The fire cracked loudly between them.
"I need to check the arena," Ivy said, standing up before Peachy could answer.
Peachy grabbed her wrist lightly.
"Hey."
Ivy stopped.
"Don't go break something just because your ego is bruised."
Ivy let out a small breath, not quite a laugh.
"My ego isn't bruised."
Peachy raised one brow.
"Your heart then."
Ivy pulled her hand free gently.
"I have work."
She didn't wait for another answer.
She turned and walked away from the circle, past the lights of the alliance zone, past the tents, past the equipment crates, the noise of voices fading behind her with every step.
The night air was colder away from the fire.
The arena lights were still on, glowing over the valley like a second sun, the metal structures casting long shadows across the sand.
From far away, the place looked empty.
From up close, it never really was.
Technicians moved near the control tower.
Security walked the perimeter.
Water pumps hummed near the Bear Trap pool.
Beyond the pool, the obstacle zone for the next day's challenge was already being prepared under the arena lights. Long metal structures stretched across the sand, forming a massive running course filled with barriers, suspended ropes, climbing walls, and narrow balance paths built over shallow water trenches. Large crates marked with numbers were placed at different points along the track, each one containing objects the players would have to collect while running the course. Some were visible, locked behind simple obstacles. Others were hidden inside tunnels, under platforms, or behind moving panels that would only open at the right moment.
Technicians were testing the timing system that would count every object recovered, every second gained, every mistake made. Screens near the control tower already showed the interface for the challenge — each team would have a limited time to run the course, grab as many items as possible, and bring them back to their zone before the clock stopped. The more objects they recovered, the more points they would earn for their alliance. Some of the items would give bonus points, others would unlock hidden advantages for the next phase, and a few rare ones were marked as special rewards that could change the ranking completely if a player found them.
Workers moved around the structures, tightening cables, adjusting padding, checking the safety foam covering every edge of the course. Even from a distance, the challenge looked exhausting. Fast, chaotic, unpredictable — exactly the kind of test that forced players to push past their limits.
Everything ready for the next day. Each winning team advances to the second challenge. Meanwhile, the remaining alliances will compete against each other on the water platform until every alliance has completed the challenge
Everything moving forward whether she wanted it or not.
She crossed the arena floor without stopping, boots hitting the ground in steady steps, heading straight toward the building behind the stands where the training area had been installed for the event.
The gym lights were on.
Of course they were.
Nothing here ever slept.
She pushed the door open.
The smell of rubber, metal, and dust hit her immediately.
Treadmills lined one wall.
Weights stacked on racks.
Punching bags hanging from the ceiling.
Training mats covering the floor.
Empty.
Good.
She dropped her jacket on a bench and tied her hair back without looking in the mirror.
Her reflection caught her anyway.
Tired eyes.
Tight mouth.
Too much in her head.
"Good," she muttered.
She stepped onto the treadmill and hit start harder than necessary.
The belt began to move.
Slow.
Then faster.
Then faster.
She kept increasing the speed until her steps turned into a run.
Her breathing stayed controlled at first.
Then heavier.
Then rough.
Her mind replayed the fire.
The kiss.
His face.
The way he didn't move.
The way he looked at her after.
She pushed the speed higher.
The machine beeped in warning.
She ignored it.
Run.
Faster.
Run.
Faster.
Her lungs started burning.
Her legs tightening.
Still she didn't stop.
She jumped off the treadmill suddenly and went straight to the mat, dropping to the floor and starting sit-ups without counting.
Her chest rising fast, almost painful, she stayed on the mat for a few seconds without moving, staring at the ceiling lights of the gym that felt too bright, too white, too real.
Her muscles were shaking, not from weakness, but from pushing too far.
Exactly what she wanted.
Pain meant she wasn't thinking.
Pain meant she wasn't remembering.
Pain meant she wasn't seeing his face again.
She rolled to her side, breathing hard, then forced herself back up before her body had time to recover.
"No," she whispered to herself.
"Not done."
She planted her hands on the floor and flipped onto her stomach, starting push-ups without even counting this time.
Down.
Up.
Down.
Up.
Her arms trembled almost immediately, but she kept going anyway, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the mat under her.
Sweat fell from her forehead, hitting the rubber floor in small dark spots.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Her shoulders burned.
Her wrists hurt.
Her breathing turned rough and uneven.
Good.
She dropped to her knees for half a second, then stood up too fast, grabbing the side of the bench to keep her balance.
The room spun slightly.
She didn't stop.
She walked back to the treadmill, hit the speed button without looking, and started running again, faster than before.
Her feet hit the belt hard, rhythm violent, almost angry.
Faster.
The machine beeped in protest when she pushed the speed higher.
She didn't care.
Her lungs burned.
Her legs felt heavy.
Her vision blurred for a second, but she forced herself to keep going, gripping the handles like the machine was the only thing holding her together.
Images kept flashing in her head.
The arena.
The fire.
The kiss.
His hands.
His voice.
She clenched her teeth and ran harder.
"No."
Another step.
Another breath.
Another second.
She ran until her legs almost missed the rhythm and she had to grab the sides to stop herself from falling.
She slammed the stop button and jumped off the treadmill, stumbling forward, catching herself on the mat again.
Her heart was pounding so hard it hurt.
She dropped to the floor on her back, chest rising fast, sweat sticking her shirt to her skin, hair messy, arms spread like she had nothing left to give.
For a moment she just lay there, eyes closed, listening to the sound of her own breathing echo in the empty gym.
Too quiet.
Too empty.
Too late to pretend she wasn't thinking about him.
She opened her eyes slowly, staring at the ceiling again, whispering under her breath without even realizing she said it.
"I don't care…"
But the words didn't sound real.
Because if she really didn't care…
she wouldn't be here trying to run it out of her body.
Finally her body gave out and she fell back on the mat, chest rising fast, sweat sticking her shirt to her skin.
She stayed there, staring at the ceiling, trying to slow her breathing.
Didn't work.
Didn't help.
Didn't make anything quieter inside her head.
"You trying to kill yourself," a voice said behind her.
She froze.
Her heart reacted before her body did.
She turned her head slowly.
Ghost was standing near the door, arms crossed, watching her like he had been there longer than she wanted to believe.
Her stomach tightened.
"How long you been there," she asked.
He didn't answer right away.
"Long enough."
She sat up slowly, wiping her face with the back of her hand.
"You stalking me now?"
He walked closer, calm, steps slow on the rubber floor.
"You left."
"So?"
"So I followed."
She looked at him, breathing still uneven.
"That's not creepy at all."
He stopped a few feet in front of her.
"You always run when something bothers you?"
Her jaw tightened.
"I'm training."
He glanced at the treadmill.
"At midnight."
"Yes."
Silence stretched between them.
The gym lights hummed softly overhead.
He looked at her like he wanted to say something else, but wasn't sure how to start.
Then finally —
"That kiss bothered you."
She laughed once, short.
"You think everything is about you."
His eyes didn't leave her.
"I didn't say that."
She stood up, grabbing her towel, trying to move past him.
He didn't move.
She stopped right in front of him.
"Move."
"No."
He caught her before she could walk past him.
His hand closed around the front of her jacket, fingers tightening just enough to stop her, not enough to hurt, but enough to make her breath catch.
"Ivy."
She didn't answer.
She tried to turn away, but he stepped closer, backing her against the wall the cold surface touching her back.
For a second neither of them moved.
Too close.
Too much tension.
Too many things they hadn't said.
His hand slid higher, stopping at the base of her neck, fingers resting lightly against her throat, holding her there, forcing her to look at him.
Not choking.
Not hurting.
Just enough that she couldn't escape his eyes.
"Look at me."
She didn't want to.
Her jaw tightened, lips pressed together, but slowly… she lifted her head.
Their eyes locked.
His were darker than she remembered.
Harder.
Angrier.
And something else under it.
Something that made her chest hurt.
He stayed like that for a long moment, searching her face like he was trying to find the truth without words.
Then his voice dropped, low, rough.
"Did you fall in love with me?"
The question hit harder than anything else.
Her breath stopped.
For a second she just stared at him, eyes wide, like the words didn't make sense.
Then her gaze broke.
She turned her head to the side, trying to look anywhere but at him.
Her lips pressed tighter, trembling slightly as she fought the feeling rising in her chest.
She didn't answer.
A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it.
He saw it immediately.
His grip loosened, his fingers moving from her throat to her jaw, turning her face back toward him.
"Hey…"
His thumb brushed under her eye, wiping the tear before it could fall.
His voice softer now, but still tense.
"Answer me."
She shook her head, barely.
Not yes.
Not no.
Just refusing.
He exhaled slowly, jaw tight, then pushed her harder against the wall, his hand moving to the side of her face, holding her there.
"You weren't supposed to get attached," he said.
Her eyes flashed back to his.
"Like that's something you control," she whispered.
That hit him.
You could see it.
His expression changed for half a second, like the words went deeper than he wanted.
His hand slid behind her neck, pulling her closer again, their faces only inches apart.
"You knew what this was," he said.
"So did you."
Silence.
Heavy.
Breathing mixing between them.
He stared at her like he wanted to say something else… but didn't know how.
His thumb brushed her cheek again, slower this time.
"You disappear…
Her lips trembled slightly.
For a second he almost smiled.
Almost.
But the tension didn't leave.
It only got worse.
He grabbed her chin, turning her face so she had no choice but to look straight into his eyes.
Another long second.
Then he leaned closer.
Close enough that she could feel his breath against her lips.
"You messed with my head," he murmured.
"You messed with mine first."
That was it.
His control snapped.
He kissed her.
Hard.
Not gentle.
Not soft.
Like he had been holding it back for too long and didn't know how to stop anymore.
Her back pressed harder against the wall, her hands grabbing his shirt instinctively, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.
For a moment neither of them cared where they were.
Who could see.
Who could come around the corner.
His hand moved to the side of her neck again, holding her there while the kiss deepened, slower now, heavier, like neither of them wanted to be the first to stop.
When he finally pulled back, their foreheads stayed almost touching.
Both breathing hard.
Both silent.
He looked at her again, searching.
"You weren't supposed to matter," he said quietly.
Her eyes were still wet.
"You weren't supposed to either."
Another second.
Too long.
Too real.
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, voice low.
"We're gonna regret this."
She didn't move.
"Probably."
He stayed there one more moment…
then let go.
"I just don't want to see you cry but i can't do that "
But neither of them stepped away right away.
Her eyes lifted to his.
Too close again.
Always too close.
"You're in my way."
"You're running again."
Her chest rose with a sharp breath.
"I said move."
His voice dropped lower.
"Say you don't care."
She held his gaze.
"I don't care."
He watched her one second longer.
Then another.
Like he was waiting for her to break first.
And when she didn't —
He stepped closer instead.