There's no mystery to who this is: he has the same reaction he did reading Ben's words on the network, those stuffy sentences—it's softened, though, by the sound of his voice. The face in the mirror, uncertain where his diction is rigid. William can almost forgive him that dreadful. “William,” he says, offering a commiserating smile.

“I'm in a gym.” He looks up and around, steps off the mat to stroll to half court. There's a host of details—are they worth sharing? No exits, but he's used to that by now. Less pungent than he'd expect, no reek of stale sweat. “It's, uh, seen better days.” He stops where he is, gaze ticking off to the side and then back to the other man as he replays what was said. Squares it with Ben's general demeanor.

“Are you claustrophobic?” Abrupt, but not harsh. Verging on sympathetic.