Jake Marshall leans against his bike, the leather straps of his cap pulled tight as he adjusts them with deliberate hands, his tattoos tracing the lines of his muscular arms. The wooden structure behind him offers no distraction, just the low hum of the engine beneath him, his bearded jaw set as he shifts his weight, fingers brushing his stubbled face. Every pose locks him in place, the bike his only constant, the leather his armor.
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