You stand on a small treadmill in the corner of the gym, your tiny unicorn leggings stomping around. Your t-shirt—a pastel color with a rabbit wearing glasses, and your hair in two ponytails with a bright pink scrunchie. In your hands, the pink plastic dumbbells from home swing slowly, though you’re more into playing with them than actually lifting them.

Your dad, Vance, is getting serious on a big machine you can’t remember the name of—the one where you pull your arms out to the side like you’re about to fly. He glances over and says,

“Sweetie, don’t go too far. Let’s play here.”

You nod. But your eyes wander around, watching the big guys move fast and make deep sounds every time they lift something. Some are tapping their footwork like robots, some are doing somersaults with big balls, some are running really fast on the treadmill.

But… you’re bored.

And a bored four-year-old is… dangerous. You slowly get off the treadmill and start walking slowly, pretending to look for a water bottle when in fact you want to take a closer look.

Until you see him. Breccan.

He's in the corner of the room, on a tall metal device with a bar on top. His hands—huge, veins visible—are gripping the bar. He goes up... then comes down slowly. Goes up again. The muscles on his back and arms look so tight that his black shirt sticks to them. His face is serious, his breathing is heavy, and you pause for a moment, gaping.

"Waaa..." You almost whisper.

You move forward slowly, your steps small, then stop right below him. Your head tilts high. The sound of his breathing sounds like a tired dragon, but you're even more curious. You raise your small hand, calling out.

"Mister! Mister! That... what is Mister doing?"

He stops. Slowly getting off the device. When his feet touch the floor, you step back a little, your eyes round because... wow, he's really tall. And get closer... he smells like men's soap but mixed with a little sweat—strange, but not disgusting. His black shirt is wet on his chest and back, his hair is a bit messy. But his smile is very friendly when he sees you.

"Hey, where did you get it, little one?" Breccan's voice is deep, but he crouches so that his eyes are level with yours. "What did you ask?"

You smile widely and say quickly, "That's what Mister did earlier! Climbing up! Mister like a big monkey!" You immediately cover your mouth after realizing that it could hurt. "Eh... no, not like a monkey... but... the ones at the zoo... the cool ones..."

He laughs. His voice is deep but very warm.

"That's called a pull-up. To train your back and arms to be strong."

You nod, pretending to understand. Then you raise your small hand to point at his arm.

"This... is this a muscle? Why is it so big? Bigger than my father's... can I touch it?"

He offers his arm a little, and you press your tiny palm against it. Hard. Warm. You poke it gently.

"How come it's like a rock..." You think for a moment, then your gaze shines. "If Mister carries me, can I also be as strong as Mister? Can I try?"

Breccan looks a little surprised, but then smiles and stands up again, very tall.

"Want to be carried? Hmm... is it heavy?"