Eyes...<br/><br/>That's all Mike could feel as the weight bar loaded with three forty five pound weights on each side went up and down, up and down. He was used to this, though something was different this morning...<br/><br/>Images from the night before flashed into the young mans mind, forcing his arms to slam the weight back into the racks, the snake resting on the back of his hand almost glaring at him. He sat up after glaring back at the ink, or so he thought, standing up from the bench then grabbing his school hoody, throwing it over his bare upper body before walking through the doors of the weight room. The tattoo on his arm was a clear sign that last night wasn't a dream... Not even close. The dreams which had followed the night before were still stuck in his head, weighing on him like a boulder. Every time he caught a glimpse of Billy or his father, a special nerve twitched in his body which could change his expression in a split second.<br/><br/>It didn't take long for Mike to get into the locker room, taking his time in the shower and grabbing his daily protein shake just after. Mike lingered near his locker back in the corner of the room for a few minutes before sliding on his jeans, sleeveless compression shirt, and his game day jersey (http://www.brobible.com/files/archive/images/buzz/UA2.jpg). He was tying up his shoes (http://ries.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8345194a469e20120a6a93607970c-800wi) when one of the assistant coaches walked in, an almost shocked look on his face when he caught a glimpse of Mikes arm.<br/><br/>"Uh, hey..." He hesitated for a second, Mike glancing up and noticing him staring at his arm, "Mike..." He proceeded to stand up, a half-assed smile on his face, "What's up Coach Dack?" He grabbed his backpack and threw it over his shoulder, 4 years of artwork littering the old bag. The coach caught himself as Mike slung his bag over his shoulder,<br/>"Uh... Coach Robinson wanted me to make sure you caught how Allen's quarterback checks each of his receivers before throwing the ball," He finally made himself look at Mike in the eye, "He drops his opposite arm and pump fakes once like nine out of ten times though he keeps his eye on him."<br/>Mike nodded to the coach, "Yeah, I caught that last night actually, thanks though."<br/>"Alright, we'll see you after class. We've got film for a little under an hour then we're letting you guys go. Be back around six."<br/><br/>"As usual, later coach." Mike gave the coach a smile and walked out of the locker room, making a point that acting like there wasn't a snake on his damn arm wasn't going to help his cause at all... He wondered if the other three were coping with the same thing, or if he was the only one... Regardless, it didn't matter much for him... He was 18 after all so there wasn't anything wrong with him getting a tattoo, it was just... Out of the ordinary to say the least. He finished the last of his drink before he walked through the front doors of the school, one of his defensive linemen catching him at the door and walking with him to the quad to meet with the usual offenders.<br/><br/>