Infinite Cashback System

Jordan’s alarm screamed at 6:00 AM. He slapped it silent and immediately regretted consciousness.

His body felt fine. Better than fine, actually. The Tune Up trait had his muscles operating like he’d gotten a full eight hours of sleep instead of the four he’d actually managed. No soreness from yesterday’s gym session. No exhaustion from the card deck workout. No aches from the extremely athletic activities that had occurred in Unit 403 last night.

His brain, however, was pure chaos.

Chloe’s face kept flashing through his thoughts. The way she’d looked at him when he’d finished explaining the fake inheritance. The careful neutrality in her expression that had replaced the soft warmth from earlier. The text message that had said "I know" and nothing else.

Jordan rolled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. His reflection showed someone who looked significantly better than they had any right to. Sharp jaw. Clear skin. Defined cheekbones. Hair that somehow looked intentional despite being slept on wet.

His phone buzzed on the counter.

Kyle: Gym in 30?

Jordan stared at the message. Right. Tuesday. He had class at 9:30 AM. Management 1A lecture. Then Econ discussion at noon.

And apparently he had a gym date with Kyle at 6:30 because his life was a carefully orchestrated series of commitments now instead of the formless blob of despair it had been last week.

Jordan: Yeah. Meet you there.

Kyle: 💪💪💪

The emoji assault made Jordan’s eye twitch. But he threw on the same black shorts and grey tank from yesterday, grabbed his water bottle, and headed out.

The rec center parking lot was mostly empty at 6:27 AM. Jordan spotted Kyle’s beat-up Ford truck immediately. The guy was leaning against the tailgate scrolling through his phone, wearing what appeared to be the exact same workout clothes from yesterday except in different colors.

Kyle looked up when Jordan’s Civic pulled into the spot next to him. His face did something complicated.

"Yo."

"Yo," Jordan returned, climbing out and locking his car twice out of habit.

They dapped up. The handshake felt normal. Kyle’s grip was firm and his palm wasn’t sweaty so Jordan took that as a good sign that they weren’t about to have an awkward conversation about feelings.

Except then Kyle opened his mouth.

"That was fucked up yesterday. What Leo did."

Jordan’s shoulders tensed. "It’s whatever."

"Nah man. It’s not whatever." Kyle started walking toward the rec center entrance. Jordan followed because the alternative was standing in the parking lot like an idiot. "I gave him a whole speech last night. Twenty minutes. Told him he can’t just throw you under the bus like that for some girl who wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole."

"You didn’t have to do that."

"Yeah I did. We’re boys." Kyle flashed his student ID at the scanner. The machine beeped. "Bros before hoes and all that shit."

Jordan scanned his own ID. The beep sounded judgmental somehow. Probably because Jordan had violated the bro code spectacularly last night by having sex with a girl he’d known for approximately thirty-six hours.

They headed toward the weight section. The gym was dead this early. Maybe fifteen people total spread across the massive space. Most of them were on treadmills with headphones in, lost in their own worlds.

Kyle grabbed two twenty-pound dumbbells and started warming up with bicep curls. His form was perfect. Elbows tucked. Controlled descent. No swinging.

Jordan mirrored him with his own set of weights. The motion felt easier today than it had yesterday. His muscles remembered the pattern.

"Seriously though," Kyle continued between reps. "Leo knows he messed up. He tried calling you like eight times last night."

"I saw."

"You didn’t answer."

"I was busy."

Kyle’s eyebrow climbed. "Busy doing what?"

Jordan focused very hard on his bicep curls. "Stuff."

"Stuff."

"Yep."

"You’re a terrible liar."

"I’m aware."

The gym doors burst open with enough force that the crash echoed through the entire building. Jordan’s head snapped toward the entrance on instinct.

Leo Alfonsi stumbled through the doorway like he’d just run a marathon. His face was red. Sweat plastered his dark hair to his forehead. His Gucci hoodie looked rumpled and his expensive joggers had a stain near the left knee.

He was heaving. Actually heaving. Chest rising and falling like his lungs were trying to escape through his ribcage.

"Jordan," Leo wheezed.

Kyle set down his dumbbells. "Dude. Did you run here?"

"Parking lot," Leo gasped. "Too far. Saw your cars. Ran."

Jordan put his own weights on the rack. "You ran from the parking lot?"

"Needed to apologize." Leo bent forward, hands on his knees, sucking air. "Before class. Before you decided to never talk to me again."

Several people on nearby treadmills were staring now. Jordan’s face heated.

Kyle crossed his arms. "What happened to bros before hoes, Leo?"

"I know." Leo straightened up, still breathing hard but managing full sentences now. "I fucked up. I shouldn’t have brought up Eliza. Or the Prada bag. Or any of it."

Jordan’s jaw tightened at the mention of the bag. The humiliation from yesterday crashed back over him in a wave. Alexis laughing. The way she’d called him "the Prada bag guy" like it was his full legal name.

"I was trying to impress Alexis," Leo continued. His voice cracked slightly. "I thought if I made her laugh she’d actually look at me like I existed. But I threw you under the bus and that’s not cool. That’s the opposite of cool."

Kyle made a disgusted sound. "You threw your boy under the bus for a girl who doesn’t even know your last name."

"I know!"

"Do you though?"

"Yes!" Leo’s face flushed darker. "I’m an asshole. A jealous asshole who got desperate and made it worse."

Jordan watched Leo’s face. The guy looked genuinely miserable. His eyes were red-rimmed like he’d been up all night. His hands kept clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Jordan sighed. Long and deep and from somewhere in his chest that felt too heavy for 6:30 in the morning.

"I accept your apology."

Leo’s whole body sagged with relief. "Thank you. Seriously. Thank you so much."

"But I’m not forgiving you yet."

The relief vanished. "What?"

"You heard me." Jordan picked up his water bottle and took a long drink. "You apologized. That’s good. But trust doesn’t come back that fast."

Kyle nodded like Jordan had just delivered profound wisdom. "Facts."

Leo’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

"Even if I scored us a three-man?"