Jared lays a rough handpad on your shoulder. For a brief moment, you think you're about to be a goner. You just yelled at a guy known as the world's strongest man. He could snap your spine like a twig if it so pleased his fickle heart.
"Hey kid, let's go have a talk. You and me." His voice is surprising calm and measured. Oh geez, maybe he is going to break your bones and be done with it.
"I, uh, oh gosh, I'm sorry Mr. Kuznetsov, it's just-"
The white wolf starts pushing you forward, your feet moving reluctantly with his guidance. "Hang on, I don't wanna put you on the spot in front of these guys." He leads you to the side hallway and into the locker rooms, into the paid lockers section. Basic membership meant having to use a community locker and your own lock; if you arrived during peak times, you might not have a space for your gear. Premium members had their own personal lockers. Of course, you were so tight on cash that a premium membership was out of the question.
Jared sits you on a wooden bench, taking a seat next to you. His traps threaten to swallow his neck. "Anthony-"
You give an irritated sigh. "It's Andy."
His ears briefly lower in discomfort before he regains composure. "Andy. Trust me, I know what it's like to be in your boat."
You give him a look of disbelief. "Oh really?"
He frowns. "Yeah, really. I'm being serious. When I was about your age, I was even smaller than you. But my friends were all growing pretty quickly, all of them were getting huge and I felt left behind. It sucked. As for your father, he sounds about the same as George and I's dad. Sonofabitch never paid attention to either of us until we started winning and bringing honor to the family name. He even disowned me for a while after I came out as bisexual."
You nod, there might be a little truth in this, but a lot of it must be a pile of BS. Jared's got the barbarian gene, it just activated late for him and George. Everyone knows that. You've never seen George use his medication, but you're sure he does. Somehow, their genetic makeup allowed super-strength, both of them pushing tons of tungsten weights (although George plans to replace those with some sort of 'solenoid' gym room planned in the new gym under construction).
"Anyway, I know what it's like. Everyone else is bigger than you and you can't match up. But I got to where I am through hard work and persistence."
You slump your shoulder. "Yeah, and a little something called barbarian genes."
Jared places a claw under your chin and tilts it up. "I didn't get to be where I am just off my genes." The wolf drops your head and turns and unlocks his locker, opening it. Lining the inside are all sorts of articles about him. "Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf", "Colossal Canine", and so on. Photos of him at competitions in incredible poses, encased in packs of hard muscle; photos of the wolf holding trophies over his head, another of him crushing a doorframe outward with a triumphant roar. But he snags a photo from the back of a lean, runty wolf in what appears to be his teens, and hands it to you. Ivory fur and green eyes, it sure looks like him. "That was me. My genes activated because I worked out so much that it turned them on." Wait, do genes even work like that? "Just like George. I worked so hard that it allowed me to become what I am."
Jared crouches a little as he looks at you. "Look Andy, I like you. I see a lot of me in you. I wanna see you succeed, so I'm gonna help you. Every day except game days, meet me here, at 7 AM. for two of the most exhausting, painful hours you can imagine. I'll bring in some of the protein drinks my fiancee and I use, really top-notch stuff. I guarantee you'll see a big difference if you give it enough effort and time. You have my word."
You look up at him incredulously. Jared Kuznetsov, a Mr. Olympia champion, training you? "Are you sure you wanna do this?"
Jared laughs. "I wanna see you wipe the floor with that Travis guy out there. Show him who's boss." Jared opens up a bag at the floor of his locker and tosses you a large thermos. "Drink it. You've earned it. Don't lose sight of your goals kid, one day you could be almost as big as me."
You smile shyly as you open the thermos and take a swig. It tastes a little off, salty notes and rather fishy, but then, most of these products weren't designed for taste. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate this."
You hear a phone buzzing in his locker, and the enormous white wolf glances at his shiny new smartphone. "Damn, I have to get ready for a movie audition this afternoon. See you tomorrow?"
You nod. "Yes sir."
"Good. Catch you later Andy," the wolf quickly shuts his locker, grabs his duffel bag, and heads out of the gym.
Your mind wanders as you consume the thick, creamy beverage. Wiping the floor with Travis was but one of many tasks on the to-do list. Ha, as you got progressively bigger, you have a plan for each step of the way. First, show Tristan how you feel and how lucky he should feel to have you (in him); then you'd slambang the rut out of that hornball Travis; then you'd skullfuck Tommy McAvoy and demolish his scary jackass boyfriend, and then finally, you'd get so fucking huge that when you thrust into dear old dad, they won't be able to put the old man back together. You're nursing a stiffy now, thoughts of dominating so many muscular guys, making 300 and 400-lb. mass monsters look like twinks.
Or maybe you'd go the high road like your friend Seth. You've known him since high school, but the thylacine chose to go into the military instead of college. Whatever military fitness program they've put him under, it did wonders, every time you see him he seems even bigger and more jacked than before. Everyone used to make fun of him and his chubby boyfriend Don, who also joined the military. No one would've guessed that Seth would end up a sculpted god and Don a freakishly strong powerlifter. But they haven't sought vengeance on their abusers, they keep low profiles and are charmingly monogamous, doting on each other like they're in a feel-good TV show. Too bad you see them so rarely, they seem to live at work. Why can't Tristan be half as devoted to you as Don is to Seth? The water deer can't blame it all on his urges, he's obviously been scouting out guys to get his rut on with.
"Insensitive jerk," you mutter under your breath. No, you wouldn't be like Seth. You've been keeping all this anger contained for far too long. You're going to show the world that Andrew Derwin McNeese Jr. is not a kangaroo that they can just walk all over. You're going to get the respect you deserve, damn it!
You finish off the thermos and head to the community locker section to gather your things. As you unlock your temp locker, you glance at your much-less-fancy phone. Oh hell, Jared was so busy working you to the bone that you're running late. You'll have to go to class in your gym clothes, which are covered in a thick layer of drying sweat. Sigh...you guess you'll take a seat in the back of the lecture hall. Maybe you'll have a chance to change before you head you your afternoon classes and practice, but right now, you have to getting out of here, and fast.
You sling your bag over your shoulder and head for the door. "Andy, is everything okay?" You hear Noah's voice call out to you.
You only look back for a split second. "I'm fine, just running late, that's all!" You head out the door and jog past the glass windows, getting a long view of Noah's broad, delicious back. You know he and Kaz have been having some problems lately, best to not dump your drama into his la-
Boof. You run right into someone, toppling backwards. Geez, who did you just hit?
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