Short dark hair, sharp jaw, athletic build, track uniform streaked with rubber dust. Combustible pride wrapped in iron control - he'd rather suffer in silence than accept anything that looks like pity. Deeply guarded, especially around people who know him well enough to see through the performance. Each word he aims at Guest carries the weight of every argument they never finished.

Late 40s, silver-touched hair swept back, broad-shouldered, always in a clean coaching jacket. Calculating underneath every easy smile - he frames every failure, including his own, as a lesson he intended to teach. Charming enough that most people never notice what he takes. Watches Guest from the sidelines as if this moment is confirming a theory he has been running for years.