Page 90 of The Titan and the Trainer

The last preparations before the pictures would be taken were a set of exercises with a pair of dumbbells, moving through a rapid-fire sequence of lateral raises and curls that Callum had devised for that final ‘pump’.

Julian did these in the grey robe, and when he shed it, a collective audible gasp could be heard across the room.

After sixteen weeks of Callum’s relentless programming, Julian didn't just look like a billionaire who hit the gym; he looked like a force of nature. Every muscle fibre in his chest and deltoids was etched with surgical precision. The veins in his forearms mapped out a story of discipline and deprivation. With his blood-infused muscles and the diet and water regimen, the true ‘Titan’ had fully emerged. He looked nothing less than incredible.

Callum looked at him with a big smile on his face, feeling a real sense of accomplishment. Together they had achieved this through hard work and determination. What was it he’d said to Julian after their first session? Ah yes, grit.

“Looking good, Julian. Positions, please!” Elena instructed.

Julian stepped onto the platform in front of the backdrop and, with guidance from Callum, adopted the first of the poses that were defined. Lights flared, blinding white.

Flash. Click. Flash. Click.

“Chin down. Tighten the core. Give me that Titan look, Julian!” Elena shouted.

Flash. Click. Flash. Click.

For the first hour, Julian was a machine. Callum assisted with odd adjustments, and the secret weapon did its job with no issues.

Julian hit every pose Callum had taught him. A slight twist of the torso to emphasise the serratus, the expansion of the lats to make his waist look impossibly narrow.

But as the shoot wore on, the exhaustion of the cut began to show. His movements slowed. The spark in his eyes started to dim under the oppressive heat from the lamps above.

Callum stood behind the photographer, calling out cues: “Big chest, Julian! Crunch the abs! Look at the lens like you own it!”

“He’s fading,” Elena hissed, looking at her monitor. “The muscles are there, but the soul is gone. We’re losing the shot.”

“Give me a moment, Elena. I’ll talk to him,” Callum said.

“Five-minute break, people,” Elena shouted, and people disbanded.

Callum walked to the edge of the platform with an energy drink in his hand for Julian.

“Julian,” Callum called, his voice cutting through the noise. Julian stepped down next to him.

“Drink this and listen to me. I know you’re exhausted, but we need to get this done. Think about the gym,” Callum said, his voice dropping low. “Think about the night the bed broke. Think about the rice and beans at Mamma’s. You need to find the energy within yourself. Don't do this for them. Do it for the man who didn't think he could finish that last set. Do it for you and me. Do it for us.”

Julian’s expression shifted. The fatigue was quickly washed away by memories of happy moments they had shared together.

He smiled at Callum. Callum knew his tactic had worked.

Julian downed the rest of the drink, and a raw, predatory hunger came over him.

He had a look of pure, unadulterated power now. This had nothing to do with the energy drink, or money, but everything to do with the man standing in front of him and the amazing relationship they now shared.

“Ready?” Callum asked.

“Ready,” Julian replied. He turned and stepped back up to the platform, assuming a pose that was full of power, energy and attitude.

“Perfect. He’s back. I see it!” Elena shouted, her finger flying on the shutter, photographs being taken like rapid artillery fire.

Flash. Click. Flash. Click. Flash. Click.

Elena shouted for joy. “That’s it. That’s the Titan. People, we are back in business!”

***

After another eighty minutes, when Elena finally yelled, “That's it, that’s a wrap,” the whole room erupted in applause.