ABSOLUTE CINEMA IN GYM

So, I’m at the gym today, minding my own business, when this unspoken telenovela starts unfolding. There’s this fit-looking dude (we’ll call him Mr. Serious), and then there’s this younger guy (let’s go with Mr. Shadow).

Mr. Shadow is following Mr. Serious like a lost puppy but with serial killer intensity. Whatever Mr. Serious does—biceps curls, squats, staring dramatically into the mirror—Mr. Shadow is right there, mimicking it all. It’s like watching a really awkward remake of Single White Male but with dumbbells.

And Mr. Serious? Oh, he’s fuming. I swear, every time he notices Mr. Shadow lurking, I can see his soul leaving his body. I thought he was going to snap and use a kettlebell as a weapon at one point.

Then it gets even weirder. They both finish their workouts at the exact same time, walk out together, and head to the elevator. At this point, I’m not sure if I’m about to witness a bromance forming or a true-crime podcast in the making.

All I know is, I’m bringing popcorn next time I work out.