Hayata stood up from the occupied bed. He groaned cracking his neck, then stretched the remainder of his body to pop the knots. His partner still didn’t stir. He trudged to the bathroom and relieved himself. He came back out, walked to the wardrobe and got into his sweats.

He took his headphones and his phone.

“Nothing new” he murmured as he made his way up to the roof. A makeshift gym had been set up. He only left his humble abode when he needed to. He was a couch potato.

The question, why didn’t he stay in a better place if he had that much money?

He didn’t have an answer to that also.

He dropped his phone close, and did his stretches.

Then his normal workout. A thirty minute jog, then his sit-ups. Pushups. His lunges. His planks, skipping, then on to the heavy stuff. His pull-ups.

His headphones had dropped to his neck. Perspiration had gathered on his forehead. He had his lips stretched with the effort.

“How to die, A to Z”.

“Asphyxia”.

“Blunt trauma”.

“Cardiac arrest”.

He accompa