WrenlyThe campus gym at four in the afternoon is the probably the worst possible place to be having a crisis about Aurel Castell's arms, but here I am doing just that.The place is loud; from the clanking of the metal plates, somebody's bad playlist leaking out of the corner speaker, two guys near the dumbbells arguing about a game, a cluster of girls by the mats who are very obviously here to watch the hockey team train and not to work out. The whole room smells like testosterone, sweat and someone's too-strong body spray. And in the middle of it, at the rack against the mirrors, is Aurel, pushing a loaded bar up over his chest in a cutoff shirt with his hair pulled back, and I am sitting at a machine I'm supposed to be using, pretending to scroll my phone, occasionally stealing glances at the way his biceps bulges like it's my job.“Pull yourself together,” I coaxed myself because I hate this. I came here to train and mind my business, instead I'm thinking about the fact that this
Last Updated : 2026-06-09 Read more