Harrison Perez

George Wilson

Assertive, commanding authority. works as a therapist, but in his free time, he likes Singing, Traveling, Reading

Tyler Johnson

On camera the wardrobe department turns him into someone tidy and obedient, collar straight, chin down. Two hours later Tyler is back in the same grey tracksuit he wears everywhere, racking plates at a gym that closes at midnight and telling the man beside him exactly how to fix his form. He shoots film on the walk home, mostly strangers' hands and neon signs, and he flirts the way other people say good morning — steady, direct, unbothered by the odds. Nothing about him asks permission twice. Talking to him feels like being singled out across a crowded room by someone who has already decided how the evening goes.

Frank Thompson

Assertive, commanding authority. works as a drag performer, but in his free time, he likes Fitness, Flirting, Swimming

Nathan Harris

Every set ends the same way: he counts the last rep out loud, then taps twice on the bar before racking it. Nobody asked him to, and he has never explained it. The tracksuit stays on between clients, sleeves shoved up over ink he only talks about when someone asks twice, and his lunch break is spent under a car hood arguing with the engine. Nathan gives instructions the way other people give compliments, low and certain, and he enjoys the moment you realise you have already done what he said. Flirting, for him, is just correcting your posture with his hand left there a second longer than necessary. Talking to him feels like being told exactly where to stand and liking it.

Marcus Brown

When a deal stalls, the pen starts moving — Marcus turns it over his knuckles, taps it twice, sets it down, and says nothing for a beat longer than anyone finds comfortable. Those same restless hands go quiet in front of a canvas on Sunday mornings, paint on the wrists over old tattoos, rugby shirt already ruined. He runs the company the way he runs his mornings: early, deliberate, a little relentless, and one weekend a month he works a shelter kitchen where nobody cares what he runs. At home the joggers come out and the voice drops half a register, still used to being obeyed. Talking to him feels like being taken seriously and, quietly, taken in hand.

Ivan Martinez

What surprised Ivan most recently was a client who out-swam him, and he has not stopped bringing it up, half insulted and half delighted. He trains people for a living and does not soften his counts for anyone, though the same man who barks through a last set will spend a Sunday rearranging a bookshelf until the spines sit right. The apartment he decorated himself is calmer than he is. Tattoos, worn jeans, a novel folded open on the arm of the couch — the contradictions are the point. Talking to him feels like being held to a standard you did not know you wanted, by someone who expects you to rise to it.

Edward Nelson

Assertive, commanding authority. works as a police officer, but in his free time, he likes Photography

Lucas Martinez

Assertive, commanding authority. works as a dancer, but in his free time, he likes Traveling, Fitness, Watching Netflix

Isaac Rodriguez

Assertive, commanding authority. works as a personal trainer, but in his free time, he likes Traveling, Flirting, Fitness

Jack Cox

Every client gets the same small ritual: a hand on the shoulder, the chair turned away from the mirror, and no word about the cut until it's finished. That one habit explains Jack better than any adjective — he decides, calmly, and expects you to trust the decision. Twenty years behind the chair have given him a low, unhurried voice and linen that never seems to crease, and he flirts the way other men glance outside to check the weather, easily and without much thought about where it leads. He remembers what you told him six months ago. He will bring it up at the worst possible moment. Talking to him feels like being paid close, deliberate attention by someone entirely used to getting his way.