Dillon Wallace needed another dose. Bad.
He approached Kelly Crauss who might not have recognized him if she hadn't been keeping an eye on him for the last three hours. "Dillon," she nodded. "What can I do for you?"
"I need more," he said, standing in front of her counter. He hadn't been thinking about his tone and regretted his words immediately.
"Need?" she asked, looking him up an down. "We only give out one cup, Dillon, you know that," she said. "And to be perfectly frank, you don't look like you need any more," she smiled. Did she mean that or was she upping the desire by denying him?
He caught sight of the digital clock on the wall behind her, not aware how much time had already passed until that moment. However, being that it was now the afternoon, he got another idea.
"Oh. You're right," he nodded. "I didn't mean it like that," he insisted. "I just meant I want more. It really worked for me," he said, lifting his arm and doing a classic flex. "But I hear you... maybe after I come down from this workout high?" he wondered.
"Maybe," she said, not committing to anything. Dillon was easily the most dramatic accumulation of muscle she'd see in days and there were some mild concerns about drawing the wrong kind of attention.
Dillon nodded, then politely turned away. Making his way to his gym bag, he moved out of sight to the locker room. At this moment, they seemed empty, other than the sound of showers a room over. Pulling his smartphone from the side-pocket of his bag, he dialed a friend of his.
"This is Carmen Onasis, you're one stop shop for Lol domination, explain yourself or be expelled from the realm," came a deep voice filled with mirth.
"Carme, man, I need help with something," said Dillon. "Like, urgent."
"'Urgent' but not 'emergency', huh? Well how important is this 'urgent' then?" Carmen asked. In truth, the man on the other side of the phone was meaning money. He'd just be off work and about to start streaming... making decent money off of subscribers. If Dillon needed something right now it was going to cut into his stream time.
Dillon wasn't poor, but he was 'working poor', so this was not a question he could give a good answer to. Instead, he took a different tact. "You know that favor you owe me?" he asked.
There was an notable silence from the other end of the phone. "You mean the very serious, friendship 'owe' which you've been holding onto for two years because you wanted to save it for something really important?"
"Yes, Carmen. That. You owe me, and I... I need to call in that favor right now... not for anything important in the grand scheme of the universe, but important to me and, you know, it's something you might otherwise not want to do."
He could almost hear Carmen nodding on the other side of the phone. Ever since primary school there'd been a certain honor between them and their close friends about an 'owe'. Unfortunately, it also meant that whatever Dillon was going to ask him, he wasn't going to want to do. "Alright, man," he huffed. "What's this dare-level thing you're expecting of me?"
"I need you to put on some workout cloths and come down to '20 Fitness Gym'." There was a comically loud groan from the other side of the phone. "I need you to walk up to the Muscle Tech-X lady and get one of their free samples... then sneak it to me, 'cause you're only allowed one and I had mine already."
Carmen sighed. "Like, now?"
"Yeah, dude," Dillon said, fixing his pants. He was still hard. "Now."
"Alright... be there in... ten."
=*=
Carmen Onasis arrived a few minutes later. He was a heavy-set young man in his late thirties of average height but far above average weight. Indeed, Carmen was easily over 300 points, with moobs that hung down most of his chest, all covered by a t-shirt that was dark gray text on light gray background left over from high school gym. From his waist hung the white strings of his black sweatpants that were tied tightly around his waist, the elastic mostly intact.
Carmen himself was a head of close-cut yet still messy black hair, a naturally tan complexion, and brown eyes so dark they could be black. His wide shoulders and height of six foot encouraged people to step out of his way as he the front sliding glass door opened up for him. He was heap of a man.
Looking around, he didn't see Dillon.
Moments earlier he'd prepared himself for all the mocking eyes of the 'fat man' at the front of the gym. Sure enough, a few of those quips could be heard over the din as he approached the Muscle Tech-X stand. A particular guy could be heard making such a remark within earshot of Tyson York, the lithe black man handing out the occasional cup.
"Excuse yerself," he voice was directed passed Carmen and loud enough to get a few heads to turn. "Are you jeering someone who you think needs to get in shape for walking into a place all about getting into shape?" The man was subsequently taking the glares of a number of occupants all around him. Some of them even gave a thumbs up or other acknowledgement to Carmen as he stopped in front of the display table. "I hate that," admitted York. "My brother use to take the same crap when I—" he trailed off. "Sorry, I'm York. Tyson York," he added, offering a hand out to Carmen. "You walked right up, so I take it you've heard of Muscle Tech-X?" he asked.
"Uh, yeah. It was recommended to me by a friend," Carmen nodded, shaking Tyson's hand. Luckily he'd just recently washed his hands. His daytime job was cook at the local Terry's Tacos and, admittedly, he still smelled of them having not headed home for a shower yet.
"A referral?" came Kelly Crauss' voice. "That's excellent. Name?" she asked, picking up a purple notebook that had a number of names in it.
"Dillon. Wallace," said Carmen, not sure if he should say Dillon's name as it might give a hint of what he was really doing there.
"Ah, he's actually here right now," Tyson said, motioning towards one corner of the gym.
Carmen looked back over his shoulder, and still didn't see Dillon. "Where?" he asked. Dillon looked over as if he hadn't been keeping track of Carmen and waved a hand as he sat up. "I don't see him," he squinted, his eyes scanning the room. Dillon waved his one whole arm more energetically, rather than just his hand. Carmen's eyes focused on that man who he'd thought was waving down someone else. Dillon, for his part, realized his difference in appearance and pulled a towel up from his bag to cover up to his neckline so Carmen could better focus on his face. "Whoa, what? That's—" his tone was disbelief, but Kelly took the opening and interjected.
"Muscle Tech-X," she smiled. Carmen's head jerked back towards her and met her eyes. "Not everyone improves so well after one cup, but—"
"That was one cup?" Carmen asked, his jaw dropping as he quickly looked between the cups and Dillon, back and forth. "Uh, yeah. Well. Whoa." Carmen's eyes were still wide. He'd seen Dillon two nights ago at D&D and he looked like, well, Dillon. "All he said was that I, uh, had to try it... so, yeah... here I am."
Tyson smiled. "That's great," he said. "Having a workout friend is great, but we've got experienced trainers here if you want the more personalized, professional experience."
Kelly scribbled in her notebook. "I don't see a gym bag or patch, so I take it you're here for the one-month free trial?"
"Oh, yeah. Absolutely," Carmen nodded, though truthfully he was wondering if he shouldn't try the stuff himself. Whatever his reasons for being his size, his excuse for not losing at least a little weight was that he'd never had the time... but if results like Dillon's could be had in two days, well... that eliminated that problem.
Miss Crauss wrote down Carmen's details, noting his greek complexion. She then poured two cups of MTX and handed them each to Carmen. "Here you go," she said. "One for you, and a special one for your referrer," she said nodding towards Dillon. "But that's a special exception... normally one per customer."
"Gotcha," Carmen nodded. Hans stepped over and draped a free unisex workout gear over one of Carmen's outstretched arms. "Thanks," he said to the three of them. He then nodded, and turned back to walk across the room down the paths between the machines that would lead him to Dillon.