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Reflection

"God, I never thought it would work this well, bro. Thanks so much for referring me!"

"Aw c'mon man, anything for my best bud!" The voice of your best friend, Kris, crackles over your phone's loudspeaker and echoes off the bathroom's tile walls. You give another flex in the mirror and admire your reflection's massive biceps. Two times the size in just one month, who knew?

You relax your arm and grab the burger you brought with you. Always gotta be loadin after all, or your body wouldn't have the energy to process these massive gains. Cascades of grease squirt out the other end and splatter onto the mirror, but thankfully none of it gets on your shining pelt. And luck it had to be, because you coulda swore you'd seen most of it heading straight towards your chest. Musta came with the bud.

"So uh, I was thinkin," you continue between bites of burger, "do you wanna come to my next appointment with me? Personal training's nice and all, but I kinda miss workin out with my bro, man."

"Oh no!" Kris is quick to respond. "No no, that's all you man, you gotta concentrate on you. Besides, hypnotherapy only works on one person at a time, I'd just get in the way of your massive gains."

That makes sense. Coach said so himself anyways, why would you think you know better than Coach?

"Yeah, alright." Your burger is gone. Did you finish it already? Your stomach growls, begging for another, but you stoically ignore it. Coach said one burger an hour, every day all day. One, not two. Don't wanna overdo the loading, else your fat can overtake your muscle.

"So uh... guess I'll see you at the powerlifting meet?" You try to keep the hint of desperation out of your voice. It isn't cool to be needy, and you want to be cool for Kris. Kris is cool.

"No!" Another quick response. "No, no, uh, I went ahead and took your name off the list. You're not competing this Saturday, don't worry about it. I'll see you some other time."

What?! The whole damn reason you started hypnotherapy was to develop some more prep dedication for the meet! Why the fuck are you sinking a thousand dollars a month into Coach's courses if you're not going? That would make Kris the only one from your gym attending. Why would Kris do that to the gym, to you?

The gears just beginning to turn inside your head shudder to a halt as Kris continues. "Sorry bro, Coach said to." Wait. Coach said? "He said you've gotta spend another year bulking, that way you'll really turn some heads when you finally compete."

Yeah, that makes sense. Coach has such a good head for these things. Strange he told Kris and not you, but you probably wouldn't have taken it well. He knows Kris well enough to trust him with that. "Well... that's kinda disappointing bro, but y'know, I'll just do it next year. Just too bad you're the only one from the gym goin, though. Like that's gotta be lonely, y'know?"

"Oh, I'm the only one eligible to go anyways. I went ahead and took you off the gym roster entirely. Canceled your membership to save you money." Before the anger has time to flare up again, Kris says those magic words. "Coach said you do all the workouts you need at his lessons. Can't have you putting in extra sets on your own, it'll mess up his plan."

Yeah, that makes sense. So many things just make sense. And Kris is just tryna save you money, what a bud! There's still something bugging you though.

"Wait, but... if we're not going to the meet, and we're not goin to the gym together, when am I gonna get to see you?" The plaintive wail in your voice is harder to hide this time.

"Oh, you don't need to see me, bud! I'll see you at the meet next year, yeah?"

"I mean, I guess... but I want to see you before then! You said we'd hang out soon, remember? I miss you. Don't you wanna see my gains?"

There's a long moment of silence on the line, almost so long you think the call dropped. Finally his voice crackled back to life. "Uhh, you shouldn't see me until you do that meet next year. Coach said comparison might kill your drive. Buuut... I can see you. So I can critique you, give you some advice."

That makes sense. Besides, why wouldn't I wanna show off for my best bud?

"Alright, alright, get ready bud!" You flip on the camera and set it on the sink, taking a moment to line yourself in frame before going through all your regular poses. Coach taught you so well you can do them in your sleep! Double bicep, quarter turn, back double biceps and triceps. Each pose comes with an encouraging word or a cheer from your bud Kris that makes your heart skip a beat.

When you hear his voice, everything you've done seems worth it. Changing your diet to burgers and shakes exclusively. Cutting out everyone in your life who says you're gaining weight, jealous haters who can't handle your massive bod. Quitting your job to fit in more sessions with Coach. Even skipping the meet, dropping your gym, and going a year without seeing Kris. Worth every second.

"Alright, alright, that's enough." Kris' voice snaps you out of the trance you didn't notice you fell into. Were you just really in the zone, or was that something of Coach's? "I think I got enough material here to last me a while, buddy. I'm gonna hang up now, you keep at it. But uh, before I go, I forgot to tell you! Coach said to double your food intake, feel free to add in pizza or anything else you want. Gotta make up that deficit, Coach's doubling the reps in your workout."

No wonder your stomach was growling earlier! Coach must be working you ragged. You don't remember doing twice the reps with Coach, but then again, you don't remember any of your sessions. If your eyes weren't confirming your gains every morning in the mirror, you wouldn't believe he was doing anything for you at all. Luckily the proof is right there in your reflection.

"Alright buddy," you say to Kris, "I'll catch you later! It's always great to catch up, we need to chat... more..."

Huh. He's already hung up. The guy must be busy. It makes sense though, Kris has a lot on his plate what with being the gym's sole competitor and prepping for the powerlifting meet.

Later, someone sends you a bunch of screencaps, someone with a name you vaguely remember. An old lifting buddy? They show you flexing in the mirror, doing exactly the poses you did for Kris, but that person can't really be you. You're an absolute monster of a man, and that slob in the pictures has to be over four hundred pounds of flab. His belly is covered in stretch marks and grease, his eyes are red, and he's completely unkempt. Sure, there's a passing resemblance between you and him, but it's impossible to deny your own reflection.

You bring it up with Coach at your next session. Luckily Coach is really smart, and he's able to prove that they're all edited pictures, down to the last one. You don't really know how he proved it, but he definitely did. He's just smart like that. They were edited by haters who can't stand your new body, it's nothing to worry about.

After the session, your phone buzzes. It's that lifting buddy of yours, the one who sent the screencaps. He's wondering if you got them, and if you're alright. If you want to hang, it's been so long. You almost reply yes - Coach's sessions don't leave time for socializing much - but something gives you pause.

Oh, right. He probably edited the pics because he's a hater. You instantly delete the contact and block his number. You need to cut out all the haters, because Coach said.