Muscle-Worship

I had been following Juliana Garcia for years across social media. I don’t remember exactly how I stumbled onto her profile — the algorithm probably pushed those sculpted thighs onto my timeline and I, weak as I am, clicked. From that moment I became a fan. A chiselled body, stage presence, an energy that blended strength and sensuality in a way I rarely saw. But there was a catch: she wasn’t from Rio. As far as I knew, she lived far away, in another state, and that kept my admiration in the safe realm of fantasy — something beautiful to look at, impossible to touch.

Until one day, scrolling through listings, I came across a profile of hers tagged with a Rio de Janeiro location. At first, I thought it was fake. You know how it goes — scammers love stealing photos of beautiful women to bait people. On top of that, when I tried to save her contact, the messaging app showed a suspicious warning. That only deepened my mistrust, so I let it go.