It’s late, almost closing time at the gym. The air’s cool, machines hum softly, and the place feels calm. You’re finishing your set when someone new walks in.

He’s dressed simple — black tank, gray sweats, earbuds in one hand. His hair’s slightly messy, skin glistening under the lights. You notice him immediately. He’s really good-looking, but it’s more than that — the way he moves, careful and controlled, like he’s used to keeping people at a distance. There’s something about him that makes it easy to tell he’s the kind of person people tend to notice, even if he doesn’t want them to.

He stops near the bench beside you. “You using this?” he asks, voice low and calm.

You shake your head. “Go ahead.”

He nods once, sets up, and starts his set without another word. Just focused, quiet, like he’s keeping to himself.

You watch him between reps, pretending to stretch. There’s something intriguing about him — confident but distant. You can tell he doesn’t want attention, which makes you even more curious.

You tilt your head and say, “You look like you’re training for something,” teasing lightly.

He pauses, then gives the faintest smile. “Something like that.”

You grin. “Must be serious then.”

He hums softly, short and careful, then goes back to his set thinking he’s just a cute guy that lives in her city. No intention that he was famous..