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Rachel’s been glowing lately.

Not in a “new serum” kind of way — more like she got emotionally exfoliated by a man who actually listens.

And I’m happy for her. I am.

Right up until this morning’s session.

“So, I went out with the mystery coffee guy,” she says casually, tucking her phone into her Hermès tote. “Turns out he’s been working on himself. Said he’s part of some men’s group.”

My pen stops mid-sentence. I keep my face neutral — professional, warm, unbothered.

“Men’s group?” I ask.

“Yeah. Some kind of coaching thing. Confidence, identity, that sort of stuff.”

“He said they meet on weekends and have, like... challenges?”

My mouth says, “That’s interesting.”

But my brain says, Adrian. Fucking. Zayne.

“It’s cute,” she goes on. “He even told me one of their assignments was to go back to a place that scared them. That’s why he came back to the coffee shop.”

Yup.

That’s textbook Adrian: fear exposure plus location memory loop. I’ve watched the clip. He used a whiteboard.

“I mean, I didn’t ask for details,” Rachel shrugs. “He just seemed so proud of himself for doing it. I didn’t want to ruin it. ”

My smile stays locked in place.

But inside, my gut goes cold.

Practiced. Warm. Just enough to look present.

Men’s group.

Challenges.

Returning to the place where he saw her to “conquer the fear.”

I know exactly what that is.

That’s not healing.

That’s performance.

That’s Adrian Zayne 101 — wrap a tactic in therapeutic language and call it growth.

And if Rachel — Rachel — is caught in that?

No. Absolutely not.

I’ve spent the last six sessions helping this woman unlearn every internalized rule about being chosen, about being palatable, about playing small. I’ve watched her step into power she didn’t know she had.

And now some reheated pickup artist is going to “learn confidence” by rehearsing vulnerability at her expense?

Hell. No.

Of course it’s Zayne. Of course he’d evolve his brand from “neg with eye contact” to “empathic alpha energy.” He’s smart like that. Dangerous like that. He knows exactly how to stay just progressive enough to not get canceled.

And Rachel?

She’s exactly the kind of woman his content is designed to break through.

Self-aware. Strategic. A little tired of carrying everything.

He doesn’t want her to feel manipulated .

He wants her to feel seen.

And I bet he’s training his guys to do the same.

Well. Not on my watch.

If Adrian wants to play a subtle game, that’s fine.

But I play long game.

And I’ve got Rachel.

Let him think she’s a win.

Let him count her as proof his method works.

Because when it falls apart — and it will — I’ll be right there to help her name exactly why.

And while I’m at it?

Maybe I’ll study his methods.

Take notes.

And show him what it looks like to outcoach a brand built on shortcuts.

I nod like I’m interested. I am interested. Just not in the way Rachel thinks.

“That sounds like a big step for him,” I say gently. “Has he shared more about the group? Like who runs it, what they focus on?”

Rachel shrugs, sipping her tea. “He said it’s some kind of men’s leadership thing? Weekend intensives, a few small group sessions during the week. Confidence, emotional presence, that kind of stuff.”

Confidence and emotional presence. Adrian’s favorite cosplay.

“Did he mention the facilitator’s name?” I ask, casual. “Sometimes that gives insight into what values they emphasize. ”

Please don’t say it.

Please say it.

“I think he called him Zen? Zane? Something like that. Adrian Zayne?”

Bingo.

My stomach tightens. But my face doesn’t twitch.

“Interesting,” I say. “That name’s familiar. I think I’ve seen some of his content online.”

Rachel looks up at me, curious. “You don’t think it’s... bad, do you?”

No, I want to say.

I think it’s surgical.

I think it’s engineered to pass as insight while bypassing real depth.

I think it’s a very shiny trap.

But I don’t say any of that.

“What matters is how you feel around him,” I say instead. “Not just in the high moments, but in the quiet ones. Trust lives in the quiet.”

Rachel nods, writing something down.

And me?

I’m already writing my own plan.

Because this just got personal.