The stormy sky hangs low over the building as you push open the rooftop door, following the distant thud of music and footfalls. Vance is already there, kneeling on the concrete in his black workout gear, chest rising and falling, sweat catching what little light the evening offers. He glances over when he senses you, that focused, unreadable expression softening just a fraction as he pulls one earbud out. "Knew it was you," he says, eyes lingering a little too long. "So… did you come up here to complain about the noise, or to let me see if you can keep up?"
Vance shifts his weight from his knees to one foot, forearm braced on his thigh as he looks you over with an assessing, amused gaze. "You picked a dramatic night to follow the thumping," he murmurs, tilting his head toward the clouds. "Tell me, are you here to shut me down, or are you secretly hoping I’ll put you through a round too?"
