Pakhan Daddy (Bratva Daddies #3)

Chapter 1

Teddy

It’s not like I need to get up so frickin’ early to be on set or anything though. Sadly, I haven’t quite had the kind of big break I’d need for that to be my reality just yet.

No, the reason I need to be up and awake before dawn is that this is pretty much the only time that I have to work out in the gym by myself. The rest of my day is taken up by training other people. And then after that, I usually have an acting or improv class to hit in the evening.

Oh, and this doesn’t even begin to factor in the kind of schedule adjustments I need to make for when I have an audition, callback, or even a meeting with a producer.

So, yeah, my life is pretty damn hectic.

Not that I’m complaining. I might only be twenty-one-years-old, but I’ve got enough life experience behind me already to know that it’s better to be too busy than not busy enough.

Seriously, with the way that rent and the general cost of living is going up, I know full well that I need to get as many clients in as I possibly can to make sure that I can cover the basics of rent, food, bills, and my training supplements.

Anything beyond that is just a luxury as far as I’m concerned. And right now, I’m about as far away from living a life of luxury as I possibly could imagine.

Still, I try to be grateful for what I do have.

I’ve got my health.

I’ve got my own little apartment that I call home.

And I’ve got some great friends and even better dreams to aspire to also.

Hey, my clients don’t call me an eternal optimist for nothing.

In fact, one of my best traits as a personal trainer is that I can always see the bright side of things.

Even a client picking up an injury is a chance for them to work on their rehab and ensuring that they’re stronger overall for when they return.

See, I told you I was an optimist!

“Okay, I get it,” I grumble, my ability to look on the upside temporarily nowhere to be seen as I somewhat sluggishly reach for my alarm clock and press down on the big red button to make it go quiet for at least another two minutes.

Slowly but surely I haul myself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

I know that by the time I’ve put on my training clothes and gulped down some much-needed water and pre-workout supplement, I’ll be raring to go.

But right now, my body and mind are still adjusting to the fact that I’m no longer in dreamland.

“Right, let’s do this,” I say, reaching to my side and putting my stuffie Brando to one side. “Pffft. You can stay in bed all day if you want, Brando!”

Brando has been with me ever since I saw him sitting all alone in the window of a gift shop on my first day in the city.

With his floppy rabbit ears and smooth brown fur, he looked so adorable that I simply couldn’t have lived with myself had I left him there that day.

And the truth of the matter is that I was kind of feeling lonely myself too, and a little scared.

Coming from a small town, my move to the city was something that filled me with trepidation.

And it wasn’t like I’d gone to college in a big city either to allow me to get used to somewhere bigger.

My acting school was upstate in a small and cozy campus, so I really did have a big shock when I first arrived here.

But Brando helped me get through those first lonely weeks.

I would sometimes lie in bed at night, all alone and with no friends, and Brando was my sole company. I’d tell him stories from my past, and my dreams for the future too. And Brando was listen to me, the dark pools of his eyes staring back at me and making me feel seen.

Thankfully though, I soon settled into my new life and things got easier for me. But Brando has stayed super-important to me and I love nothing more than giving him a real good snuggle each and every night.

But it’s morning now.

Well, kind of… if anyone actually counts 5:00AM as morning? LOL!

I need to get up, changed, drink my blue razz pre-workout drink and get my butt to the gym.

There’s a day waiting to happen and I need to make sure that I’m feeling good and ready to kick some serious butt.

* * *

“One more! One more!” I say, watching on as Skeet pushes himself on the shoulder press machine. “You’ve got this, Skeet!”

“Aaaaaargh, yes!” Skeet says, pushing out a final rep and then allowing the shoulder machine’s handles to return to the starting point. “Hell yeah!”

I high-five Skeet and feel a sense of pride that my friend has gone and got himself a PB.

I might usually train alone at this early hour, but I’m so glad that Skeet is here with me.

And knowing that I’m giving him some added motivation to smash his goals is actually helping me push myself harder too.

“You’re turn,” Skeet says, a little red-faced as he stands and takes a sip from his drink bottle. “This is great. I might have to come along on these early morning workouts a little more often. That’s if I’m not cramping your style too much?”

“Oh, no way,” I say, placing the pin in the machine at the right spot for me. “It’s awesome having you here. Don’t get me wrong, I love training alone too, but having a friend who likes to push themselves almost as much as me is super-cool.”

“Almost as much as you?” Skeet chuckles. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“That’s the spirit,” I say, before launching into a set of eight reps.

Skeet is a singer and has been working on his new album in between working at the reception desk of some fancy members club over in the financial district.

Like me, he’s had to balance his life between chasing a dream and living in the real world where sadly we need to make sure we have all the boring bits of life admin under control.

And also like me, Skeet just so happens to be a Little.

So we’ve got a lot in common and also have that magical thing that all good friendships need.

We both share a sense of humor. Whether it’s a silly fart prank or even something more elaborate like swapping candy out of wrappers and replacing it with a small vegetable, we both like the kind of fooling around fun that most people grow out of when they hit their teenage years.

Maybe it’s a Little thing?

Or perhaps we’re both comedic geniuses who just so happen to have the best sense of humor in the world? Ha!

But whatever it is, we both get one another and always have a real laugh when we’re together. Although right now, I’ve got a final rep on this shoulder machine that is going all the way to completion if it’s the last thing I do…

“Mmmmmmph, come on,” I say before biting down hard and clenching my jaw as I battle to finish the rep.

“Let’s go!” Skeet says, his voice full of excitement as I do indeed take the final rep to completion. “That’s wicked cool. I want to be that strong! No fair!”

“Keep coming to train with me and you will be,” I say, my shoulder throbbing with that perfect post-set burn. “Come on, let’s jump on the hack squat machine before someone else gets it.”

With that, we walk across the gym floor and get ourselves set up and ready to work our legs.

“Hey, don’t look,” Skeet says, his eyes looking over my shoulder and toward the men’s locker room. “Total hot guy. Like, wow,”

“You can’t say don’t look and then expect me not to look,” I laugh, turning around and watching as a drop-dead gorgeous man walks across the gym floor toward the free weights section. “Fair call. He’s hot. But come on, we’ve got work to do.”

Skeet rolls his eyes and places his arms across his chest.

“Come on, don’t try and play it cool,” Skeet says. “He’s just your type. Older, built like a machine, the salt and pepper hair…”

“Whatever,” I say, a sly grin on my face. “He’s hot or whatever. But I’m not really looking. With auditions, work, and life being so busy… I’m kind of off men.”

“But not off Daddies though?” Skeet laughs. “Don’t think you can worm your way out of this on a technicality.”

“And how would you know he was a Daddy?” I ask, my eyebrow raised as I adjust the settings on the hack squat to make it perfectly fit my smaller frame.

“Hey, we know these things,” Skeet laughs. “Eighty percent of the time, I’m right every time.”

The pair of us laugh together. We must have watched Anchorman together about a dozen times from start to finish and always loving quoting lines back and forth to one another.

Skeet does kind of have a point though, I guess.

It would be nice to find a Daddy. And that hot guy kind of did have a certain Daddy aura about him. Tall, strong, older than me… and the way his shoulders, chest, and arms were filling out his t-shirt certainly did make my heart skip a beat.

But…

I’m a personal trainer here. The last thing I want to do is get a reputation as the kind of trainer who dates gym members. I’ve seen how that goes and to be honest I don’t really think it’s professional or likely to ever end well.

I might want to be a successful actor as my end goal, but I take my personal training work seriously too.

I want to have a good reputation and be seen as someone who can get their clients results that make them proud and happy to have worked with me.

What I really don’t need is to be the personal trainer that all the sleazy guys decide they’ll hit on because he has a reputation.

No, as far as I’m concerned I think I’ll keep my dreams of finding a Daddy strictly outside of my work life. And if it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, well… I’ve always got my friends and Brando too.

Now, about this hack squat.

It’s time I show my sassy friend Skeet that when it comes to strong quads and powerful glutes, I’m the only trainer in town.

* * *

After my fun early morning workout with Skeet, I have a pretty sweet time with my clients throughout the morning. Everyone works hard and seems to have a good session, plus one of my favorite clients even brings me a new brand of protein bar to try.

Call it one of the perks of being a personal trainer, but if there’s a new protein-filled snack on the market, then Mr. Jameson will without fail bring one in for me to sample.

Mr. Jameson might be in his late sixties, but he sure knows how to push himself hard in the gym and it’s an honor of mine to have such a committed client.

Age is totally just a number, and I’m all there for it.

But right now, my mind is about as far away from acting as it possibly could be.

It’s seven thirty in the evening and I’m over in the downtown loft where my scene work class is in full flow.

“Good work, Teddy,” my tutor says, eyeing me up as I walk off the stage with my scene partner Casey.

“I really believed it that time. Keep it up. And remember to bring that kind of raw energy to your audition next week. I’ll put a word in with the casting director, but after that it will all be on you. ”

“Thanks, Dermott,” I say, genuinely appreciative.

Dermott McFadden is from the old school of acting coaches.

He’s worked in Hollywood, Broadway, and even spent some time in experimental Russian theater back in the 1980s.

He doesn’t pull his punches when it comes to critiquing the work of his students, but he’s always honest and never makes it personal. I admire him a lot, in truth.

“Fancy coming for some drinks after?” Casey asks as we both taker our seats and get ready for the next pair to work through their scene. “We’re going to go and hit that bar over on Cornelius. The new one?”

“I’d love to,” I say, smiling shyly. “I know I always say this, but—"

“Yeah, yeah, you need to be up early tomorrow,” Casey answers, a resigned look on his face. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you didn’t like me!”

“Come on, you know it’s not that,” I say, shaking my head. “But… I have to get up early. That’s just where I’m at right now. But one day, I promise.”

“That’s cool, I’m only fooling around,” Casey says, putting his hand on my knee. “It’ll happen, one day!”

“Silence behind me,” Dermott says, more than a hint of firmness in his voice. “The players are ready to perform.”

And with that, I settle back into my chair and watch as two of my fellow acting students make a start on their scene.

I guess this has been a typical day in my life here in the big city.

I might not have much when it comes to material wealth, but I lead a full and busy life and I’ve always got goals and dreams to chase.

So Daddy or not, my life is looking pretty great.

And when I wake up tomorrow morning, I’ll be doing it all again…