Morning sunlight spilled across the terrace of Alton’s penthouse. Alton sat shirtless at the table, staring down at his breakfast. The toast was black around the edges. The scrambled eggs were somehow both dry and burned. Across from him, Lleyton was looking ridiculously pleased with himself.
“So?” Lleyton asked eagerly. “Pretty damn good, right?”
Alton slowly lifted his eyes.
“You burned the damn eggs.”
Lleyton looked into the pan.
“They're not burned. They're… crispy.”
Alton pointed at the toast.
Lleyton’s grin faltered for half a second.
“Okay, dude, I tried. Cooking isn't really my thing.”
Alton looked at him. Then at the disaster on his plate. Then back at his friend.
But he picked up his fork anyway. Lleyton immediately brightened.
“Bro, you made breakfast. I'm eatin’ breakfast.”
He took a huge bite. Chewed. His jaw slowed. Lleyton leaned forward.
Alton swallowed with considerable effort.
Lleyton burst out laughing.
After breakfast, Alton was clearing the table when something pink caught his eye. Very pink. Very shiny. He looked over. Lleyton was standing there wearing a tiny metallic-pink brief. Alton stopped dead.
Lleyton glanced down innocently.
“That thing got a fuckin’ warning label, or what?”
“I think astronauts can see it from orbit.”
“Awesome. Because I've got a surprise for you, A.”
Lleyton reached behind the counter.
Lleyton triumphantly held up another shiny pink brief. Across the back, in huge gold script: JUICY. Alton immediately covered his face.
Lleyton was practically glowing.
“You promised me a week.”
“There's gotta be a fuckin’ clause for this shit.”
“Nope. Put on the Juicy, A.”
Five minutes later, Lleyton waited across the room. Footsteps approached. Alton appeared. Shirtless. Barefoot. And wearing the shiny pink JUICY brief.
Lleyton’s jaw dropped. Then came the biggest grin Alton had seen all week.
“Not. One. Fuckin’. Word.”
“A, you look incredible!”
“Seriously! Look at you! You somehow made ‘Juicy’ look intimidating.”
Alton glanced down, then caught his reflection in the glass. His expression changed, just slightly. Lleyton caught it immediately.
“Oh my God. You like it.”
“You're checking yourself out!”
Alton squared his shoulders.
“I'm evaluating the fit.”
“Athletes evaluate the whole package, Bro.”
Lleyton doubled over laughing.
Later that morning, they hit the street in their new summer outfits. Alton moved exactly as he always did: shoulders back, chest out, long, powerful strides, eyes straight ahead. People moved out of his path before he even reached them. Lleyton watched for half a block.
“Why are you walking like you're about to conquer the neighborhood?”
“No. You're advancing. There's a difference.”
“Less predator, more swag, A. Loosen those shoulders. Move the hips a little. And smile! You're wearing pink, dude. Nobody's invading Poland.”
Alton gave him a murderous look. Lleyton beamed back.
“That. Exactly that. Stop doing that.”
Lleyton immediately demonstrated: loose shoulders, relaxed stride, easy hip movement, huge smile.
“See? Himbo walk. Zero thoughts. Maximum vibes.”
“Zero thoughts ain't gonna be a problem for you.”
“That wasn't a compliment, Bro.”
“Still taking it. Your turn.”
Alton tried. At first, he looked like a linebacker attempting a runway walk at gunpoint.
Then he loosened up. His stride became easier, his hips started moving naturally. Finally, the corner of his mouth curled upward.
“Okay, A. That was actually kinda hot.”
“Course it was, Bro. Everything I do looks fuckin’ good.”
Lleyton slapped his shoulder.
“There he is. Still unbearable. Just with better hip action.”
They were cutting through a side street when Lleyton suddenly stopped.
Lleyton was looking beside a dumpster. A small, dirty Jack Russell Terrier stood there. Thin, scruffy, and missing one of his legs.
Lleyton’s entire expression changed.
He crouched down. The little dog hesitated, then slowly approached.
“Hey, buddy. Come here. You're okay.”
“Bro, don't touch some random street dog. Call animal control. That's literally their job.”
“Less selfish caveman. More kindness. Remember?”
“Bro, that wasn't part of the—”
“We're taking him to a vet.”
Lleyton stood up with the little terrier. Alton immediately backed away half a step.
“Bro. Don't you fuckin’ dare.”
And before Alton could object, Lleyton deposited the little dog straight into his massive arms. Alton instinctively caught him. His eyes widened.
The terrier stared up at him. Alton stared back. Silence.
“...What?” Alton muttered at the dog.
The terrier tilted his head, and Lleyton’s grin grew.
“The ‘I secretly think he's adorable but my fragile caveman ego won't let me admit it’ face.”
The little dog rested his head against Alton’s chest. Alton looked down. His grip subtly changed, one huge hand supporting the dog more carefully. Lleyton noticed, of course he noticed.
“Okay, okay. Tough guy. Let's get your terrifying new best friend to the vet.”
Outside the animal hospital, Alton was still holding the terrier.
“All right, little dude. You're good now.”
The dog looked up at him.
Straight across Alton’s cheek. Alton recoiled.
Another lick, and suddenly Alton laughed. Not the cocky laugh. Not the competitive laugh. A huge, genuine laugh.
“All right! All right, you little bastard!”
Lleyton stood beside him looking unbearably proud.
“Look at my big scary caveman.”
“Kindness looks good on you, A.”
Then Alton noticed several guys gathering nearby.
Phones came out. Someone started clapping. Another guy shouted:
Alton looked around, still holding the little dog. Then the terrier licked him again. The crowd erupted. Lleyton put an arm around Alton’s shoulders.
“Dude. Your toughest look yet.”
Alton shook his head, laughing.
But he held the dog a little closer. Outside the clinic again, Lleyton clapped his hands.
“Okay! You officially earned a reward.”
“Look at today's stats, A. Swag: up. Hip mobility: dramatically improved. Kindness: unlocked. Emotional availability—”
“Still loading. Anyway: beach.”
That got Alton’s attention.
“Beach. Shirt off. Sun out. Bros everywhere. Go do something aggressively Alton for a while. You've earned it.”
“Finally you're makin’ some sense.”
Ten minutes after reaching the beach, the shirt was gone. Another five minutes later, a small crowd had formed. Lleyton watched from nearby as Alton planted his feet in the sand and raised both arms.
Double-biceps flex. Locked. Chest high. Abs tight. Biceps peaked. Pure, unapologetic jock ego.
“YEAH, A!” Lleyton shouted.
Guys around them laughed, cheered and pulled out their phones. Alton soaked up every second of it.
“That's right, Bros! Get the good angle!”
“You know, for someone supposedly learning humility—”
“Never agreed to humility.”
One of the guys reached toward Alton’s arm in disbelief.
“Fuck around and find out, Bro.”
Everyone cracked up. Lleyton shook his head.
Alton lowered his arms and grinned at him.
By sunset, the beach bar was packed. Music hammered across the terrace, drinks were flowing, bodies were moving everywhere. And right in the middle of it—Alton and Lleyton. Shirtless, hands over their heads, hips swinging. Laughing and yelling along with the crowd.
Lleyton looked across at his friend. This wasn't the stiff, reluctant movement from yesterday. Alton was actually dancing. Loose shoulders, big grin, no posturing, no competition, no trying to dominate anything. Just having fun.
Lleyton shouted over the music:
“A! LOOK AT THOSE HIPS, DUDE!”
“TOLD YOU I COULD FUCKIN’ DANCE!”
“Yesterday you moved like a refrigerator!”
Lleyton threw both hands higher and rolled his hips dramatically.
“COME ON, BIG GUY! FULL HIMBO!”
Alton stared at him, then grinned.
And matched him. The guys around them went wild.
“THAT'S IT!” Lleyton yelled. “NO THOUGHTS! JUST VIBES!”
“NO THOUGHTS!” Alton roared back.
“Bro… did you just trick me into sayin’ that?”
Lleyton absolutely lost it.
“WELCOME TO THE HIMBO LIFE, A!”
But Alton was laughing too hard to sound remotely threatening. Lleyton grabbed him around the shoulders.
“Admit it, dude. You're having fun.”
Alton looked around: sunset over the ocean, music pounding, a crowd of bros dancing around them, his friend grinning beside him. He shook his head.
“Yeah, Bro. I'm havin’ fuckin’ fun.”
Alton immediately pointed at him.
“Don't make this weird. Tomorrow I'm lifting.”
“Whatever you say, Juicy.”
Lleyton was already dancing backward into the crowd.
“BRO! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!”
Lleyton howled with laughter and disappeared between the dancing bodies. Alton charged after him, then caught the beat again. His hips moved, his arms went up, and instead of chasing Lleyton… he started dancing again.
From somewhere in the crowd came Lleyton’s triumphant voice:
Alton threw his head back and laughed.
“DON'T FUCKIN’ GET USED TO IT!”
Day Two: complete.
Caveman status: compromised.
Himbo conversion: 27%.
Alton admitting any of this tomorrow: 0%.
Ready to discover the Himbo in you?
Then hit up our recruiters: @alton-gold77, @polo-drone-125
