Brad Star stands in the woods with his legs spread wide, the straw cowboy hat tilted low over his light hair as he leans against a tree, his muscular frame straining against the rough bark. His striped shirt rides up just enough to show the tight grip of his abs as he squats near his motorcycle, then collapses onto the ground with legs bent, the open air catching the glint of his clean-shaven jaw. The motorcycle stays put, a silent witness to the way he shifts between leaning on it and sprawling beside it, every movement deliberate, every position a challenge.
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