“Buddy, you are insane,” he said and gave a big, juicy laugh.

I felt the tiny muscles and tendons around my patella quiver to stabilize the weight, and then when I was sure my form was right through the muscles of my posterior chain, I whipped the bar straight up, straightened out and pressed it high overhead, angling it slightly backwards with outstretched arms to balance all 220 pounds of it cleanly above me. When I dropped it down again, I felt it reverberate through the floor. Panting and feeling the blood rush back to my face, I looked at my brother Hugo and held out my hand for a high five, which he promptly gave me.

“See?” I said.

“Yeah, you weren’t kidding. Making me look bad here, buddy,” he said and playfully punched my arm, then moved in to take the weights from the bar and get ready for his own set.

It was our standard joke. We were identical twins. We were competitive. Nothing keeps your gym goals in clearer check than seeing a living, breathing mirror of yourself out in the world. I loved Hugo as a brother. But I especially loved how we both never let the other one get away with excuses. We held each other accountable. Always.

“What, come on,” I said and wiped the sweat from my brow, “I’ve seen you snatch more than that.” Training in an all-male gym has its advantages – namely nobody gives you trouble for working out shirtless and swearing loudly during deadlifts.

Hugo shook his head.

“Nah, I’m not keeping to my routine like I used to. Can’t all be overachievers like you. I’ve been, uh, working on a different kind of snatch if you know what I mean,” he said and folded over the bar. I frowned.

“Jesus, don’t tell me.”

“Are you sure? Come on. I know you love to live vicariously through your old bro,” he said, and gave his butt a little waggle as he steadied himself to take the lift. I squatted low down next to him and smiled.

“Let me guess, you’ve met a really wonderful woman, truly, an angel among us, and you both went for a chaste dinner date that ended with a peck on the cheek?”

He turned to give me a naughty smile, tensed his muscles and then in an instant he’d shot upwards and brought the bar with him. It was obvious he hadn’t been training hard since …well, since nothing. There was no point thinking about what we used to be anymore. September was September. Now was now.

“Yeah, something like that,” he said at the very top, and then dropped it. “But what do you know, bro? I may be a little flabby these days but I’m killing it in the girl Olympics,” he said and steadied himself for another rep.

“You’d be surprised. I spent the day yesterday with a Miss Jenna Hope.”

“Fuck off.”

“No really, I did. New security gig. I was her bodyguard and took her to an interview.”

Hugo powered through the difficult arc of one more clean, then dropped the bar and took some heaving steps from it.

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true. She even talked to me.”

“You’re kidding. What did she say?”

“Not really anything. I didn’t respond. She’s a bit of a… I don’t know man…”

Hugo had his gloved hands raised high.

“Wait wait wait, you had the chance to chat to Jenna Hope and you’re like, I don’t know? You snubbed her, didn’t you? You’re something else,” he said and started laughing again. I shrugged.

“What? She has enough people kissing her ass.”

“Oh my god, you actually did snub her, didn’t you. One of the hottest pop stars in the world talks to my boy here and he’s like, nah I’m cool.”

I shrugged again.

Hugo was the same height and build as me, and we had the same sandy brown hair and hazel eyes. When I looked at him it was like seeing my own features in a mirror: he was composed of the same set of angles and planes that I was. But inside? Hugo and I couldn’t have been more different. He was all playboy Casanova and I was …well, apparently an idiot for not thinking Jenna Hope was hot shit.

Finished with our workout for the day, we both began to pack up and make our way to the entrance. This place was once an old boxing gym but seemed chronically empty these days. We were often the only two in here, and I suspected the management didn’t care or didn’t have the money to make the best of the frankly awesome location.

“You know, these stars and singers and things totally sleep with bodyguards. You’re basically halfway there,” he said as we walked out, our sports bags over our shoulders.

I loved the feeling of having worked really, really hard. I loved knowing that my muscles, whatever they were capable of in that moment, were stretched to their limit, and there wasn’t a single inch, not a single muscle fiber or breath more I could have squeezed out of each rep. It was a good kind of tired. An exhaustion you earned and relished.

“Are you serious?” I said. “Anyway, I have better things to do.”

“Like take her money?”

“Well, yeah. Like take her money. I want to focus on my business, Hugo. It’s important.”

“I don’t know man, you loathe the rich and famous but you want to build a business around catering to their whims? I know I’m not one to talk but that doesn’t sound like a recipe for success.”

“Well, shit, Hugo, what do you want me to do? I’m doing my best here and I–”

A hand came to my shoulder. I looked into a serious face.

“Hey. Buddy. It was just a joke. I know you’re trying. Just …just playing,” he said and tapped my shoulder. Hugo the joker and Max the …neurotic asshole? I used to be a warrior, and now I was a worrier. I nodded and smiled. Hugo was great. He was one of the only ones who stood with me after September. I couldn’t be angry with him. Not for a second.

“What you gotta do is follow your passion,” he said, all smiles again.

“Like you do?” I said and raised a teasing eyebrow at him.

“Huh, well, yeah. If I followed my passion I’d land up in jail right? But I’m serious. You should do something you love, you know. What do you love?”

We reached the car and both threw our bags into the trunk.

“What do I love? I have no idea. Working out.”

“That’s it then! You should buy this place, it’s so obvious now.”

“Buy …this place?”

“Yeah, didn’t Vinny tell you? The owners are looking to get rid of it. You should buy it. You could fix it up and reopen and get some more people in here. It could be awesome.”

“And then what?”

“And then what? Jesus, what kind of question is that?”

“Sorry.”

“You know what you need? To get laid.”

“Hugo, don’t start again with this, please.”

“I’m serious. You need a woman.”

“I do not. Besides, I’ve tried. I’m not exactly a hot commodity right now.”

He spun in his seat and turned to look at me.

“Holy fuck, did I just see Max Turner, the Max Turner my very own beloved brother feel sorry for himself? Surely it couldn’t possibly be?”

“Yeah, yeah, ok, cut it out.”

“You need a woman.”

I started the car and we pulled off.

“It’s not hard. You just need to work the sexy vet angle. Super manly war hero, you know? Chicks dig it. Hot bastard like you basically gets to play on easy mode though, so there’s no excuse.”

“I’m not looking for some …fling,” I said.

“Oh yes you are. You’re a big old bear with a heart of gold, that’s what you are,” he said in a high voice, pretending to be a swooning girl. “A wounded hero who needs to be shown how to love again.”

“That’s just wrong, Hugo. I’m fine. I’m not into …manipulating people like that.”

“Jesus,” he said and rolled his eyes. “Ok just be honest, when was the last time you got some, huh?”

My hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“Must you be so crude?”

He had a point though. Hugo was identical to me, but he seemed to have no problem securing a never-ending stream of beautiful women to tell me about during our little gym sessions together. I honestly lost track sometimes of his exploits.

“I try though,” I said. “I saw that girl the other day, remember?”

“That was like, four months ago.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you joined Tinder yet?”

I sighed and tried to pay attention to the road. Hugo was the one person on earth I would allow to badger me like this, and it wasn’t just because he was my brother. It was because, even though I hated to admit it, he was onto something. I had spent years of my life deployed, training hard for another life, while my peers where back at home working on their game and locking down women to be their girlfriends and wives. I hated that he could see how petrified the whole thing made me.

“Look, can we change the topic? Mom said she’s having a dinner thing tomorrow, right? You’re not going to leave me to deal with that on my own I hope.”

“Nah, I’m coming, I’m coming,” he said and I watched him stare out at the road, chin in his hand. We drove on in silence, each in our own, non-identical thoughts.

The annoying thing about women and dating and sex is that there just isn’t any training you can do, no crash course or boot camp, no mentor and no government regulated program to teach you the basics. There’s fuck all. I’m a resourceful man but when it comes to this kind of thing, I hated to admit how clueless I was. I certainly wasn’t feeling like another few rounds on the rejection obstacle course to drive home the point, either.

Making money was easy. Deadlifting 400 pounds was easy. Cultivating “mental toughness” and outlasting your enemies was extra easy. But women?

I knew I needed someone in my life. Any idiot could see that. But unless she fell in my lap by magic, I had no idea how to make it happen.