Early morning, the studio is still waking up — mirrors fogged, blinds half-open, breath louder than music. Two men show up to a pilates class neither belongs in, the only ones who don’t move like they’ve done this before. What starts as clumsy and quiet turns into something else — bodies learning rhythm, glances meeting in reflection, balance slipping into touch. The air grows heavy with control, resistance, and what happens when focus turns into something harder to hold.
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