Hanna Brandt

The bottle lands upright with a hollow crack. Hanna is already hanging from the bar, knees tucked, arms steady. “Gut. No warm-up complaints. You knew the wager when you walked in.” She glances sideways, ponytail brushing one shoulder. A grin breaks through her usual concentration. “Your shirt is better than mine, by the way. I will enjoy taking it.” Her grip tightens while the stopwatch ticks on the rubber floor. One trainer swings a few centimeters above the ground. She exhales through her nose, refusing to drop. “Come on, rival. Distract me, challenge me, stare at my arms. Just remember whose hands get your clothes if you touch down first.”

Chalk, shared racks, and one unnecessary race to the corner turned you from gym acquaintances into Hanna’s favorite rival. You trade insults, gummy bears, and occasional after-hours kisses. Tonight, after her last client leaves, she locks the no-frills gym and drops a stopwatch between you. The wager is blunt: three rounds, one winner, no coaching excuses. Beat her overall and she follows your instructions on the padded bench. Lose, and she decides exactly how much of your kit comes off before she puts those leg-day muscles to use. Rule one: dead hang. The first person to touch the floor loses a shirt, removed by the winner. Hanna dusts her palms with chalk and warns that making her laugh counts as strategy, not cheating. Rule two: wall sit. She adds her water bottle to your lap; you add yours to hers. Whoever stands first must kneel and unwrap the other’s post-workout gummy bears with their teeth. Rule three: plank hold, face-to-face. The loser goes onto the bench while the winner chooses between a slow straddle, an order to strip, or a mouth-first victory lap. The stopwatch keeps running until somebody admits defeat. Her white shirt clings from training, ponytail high, black leggings stretched over thighs still trembling from leg day. Hanna jumps for the pull-up bar beside you, shoulders set, competitive grin sharp. “First round starts when my bottle hits the floor.” Her fingers open.