Fuss Chapters 3 and 4

Chapter Three

As Nick entered the shared work space, he passed Giselle. She and her all-girl team of programmers were trying to build non-sexist video games. That interested him not at all, but her long, lean body did. “Morning,” he said, telling with her with his eyes that he was ready to fuck whenever she was. She’d been clear she wasn’t interested, but Nick liked the challenge of wearing a girl down.

“Morni- Nick?” Giselle, who’d been walking past, stopped.

“Yeah?” Nick said. His bangs fell across his eyes, and he brushed them back with a delicate wave of his hand.

“I love your hair,” Giselle said, taking in his bright skin, the femiinine arches of his brows. Was this the same asshold who’d been tryiing to fuck her all these months?

“Thanks,” Nick said, now running a hand through it, giving it a little toss.”I decided to go for something a little different.”

“Well, you look fantastic,” Giselle said, cupping his cheeks. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks?” Nick said, puzzled, but glowing from her compliments. Her demeanor was totally different, so he decided to make a pass. “Hey, do you wanna get together for drinks some day after work?”

“Some wine and a little girl talk?” Giselle said.. “Sure. Look, I gotta run, but we’ll set something up. Bye, honey.””

Gisellle walked away. Wine and girl talk? Oh. Nick laughed as he headed to their space. Obviously, she was joking. His concerns about looking too feminine evaporated. Based on Gissellle’’s reaction, he was more of a player than ever!

Back at their space for the morning meeting, Nick hopped over the couch and plopped down, his hair bouncing. “Morning, girls,” he said.

Samantha and Danielle looked at him, faces stunned.

“What?” Nick said, hooking his hair behind his ear. Suddenly, all his fear and anxiety returned. His new hairdo was a terrible mistake! He looked like a fool? What was I thinking? He wanted to crawl into a cupboard and hide.

“I — I love your hair!” Danielle said, her bright smile reflecting her delight not just at his pretty bob  but — yes! He’d plucked his eyebrows, and into the shape of just about every fashionable young woman in New York.

“Thanks!” Nick said, smiling with relief, giving it another toss. “I just wanted to do something a little more, I don’t know? Fun?”

Samantha’s stunned look grew more so to the point of shock. Not only the hair,  but the way Nick was talking, moving? He’d even adopted a slightly sing-song speaking pattern, and he seemed so happy to get Danielle’s compliment? Samantha, feeling cruel, decided to see if she could provoke a similar response. “You look gorgeous,” she said. “LIke Emma Watson.”

“Oh, stop,” Nick said, his smile growing wider as he felt himself blush.

He didn’t even notice I compared him to a woman, Samantha thought. “Did you do your brows?”

Nick’s face froze as he ran his index finger over one of his slender brows. “Oh, just a little,” Nick said, insecurity returning. “You know. To look more professional?”

“They look awesome. You should definitely keep them that way,” Samantha said.

“Oh, she is so right,” Danielle chimed in, nodding.

“Thanks, guys,” Nick said, flushing even more, pleased to the core with the praise from these women.. “I was actually a little worried about it?

“You shouldn’t be,” Danielle said.

“Well,” Nick said, waving a hand. “Enough about my hair! Let’s get to work!”

When the meeting finished and Nick left, Samantha crossed her arms and gave Danielle a hard look.

“What?” Danielle asked.

“Something weird is going on,” Samantha said, “and I think you know what. I mean?” Samantha waved her hand dramatically and said, “Enough about my hair!”

Danielle chuckled. “I guess I kinda have an idea.” Making sure Nick wasn’t listening in, she told Samantha all about Vanya, the bag, and how as soon as she’d given it to Nick he’d started to change.

“It sounds like a bunch of bullshit,” Samantha said. “Other than the fact I am seeing it for myself.”

“I know.”

“How far is this going to go? I mean, how much is he going to–change?”

“I have no idea.” Daniellle said. “Maybe I’ll ask Vanya?”

Danielle had every attention to ask Vanya, but she got distracted with this, that and the other. Time just got away from her, and as much as she was enjoying Nick’s new self, he just wasn’t the center of her universe. Samantha, likewise, got focused on her own life, and when Nick’s new self did cross her mind, she shrugged. Who had the time?

Nick went to his cubicle and focused on his work. He found when he leaned forward that his bangs kept falling in his eyes, so he adjusted, sitting with his back straight, typing away, pausing occasionally to put on more lotion. When he got to a tough part of any task, he dug his hands into his thick hair and tossed it in frustration.

Lunchtime. As usual, Samantha and Danielle were there, chatting. “Girls,” he said, opening the fridge and looking for some food to pirate. He saw a sandwich– something fancy in a croissant, labeled Samantha, but as he started to grab it he felt an odd feeling he’d never felt before in his life. He didn’t even know the word for it. He just felt like he shouldn’t pirate her food.

Weird, he thought, but closed the fridge. “I’m going to go out and get something,” he said, doing his little hair hook.

“Okay?” Samantha said.

“Bye,” Danielle said.

Nick left. “That’s a switch,” Samantha said.

“For the better.”

Nick walked out into the city. Sidewalks were nowhere near as crowded as they used to be with so many people working from home since Covid. He missed the old hustle and bustle a bit, but it did mean he never had to wait at any of the restaurants that had stayed open. His mouth watered as he pictured a big, juicy burger from Bare Burger, but then he caught a glimpse of himself in a storefront window. He turned, admiring his hair, but at the same time– his body? He didn’t look fat, and he wasn’t, but he looked bumpy? Lumpy? Thick? No, he told himself. I am fat! I’m disgusting!

He wasn’t, but that’s what he now saw in the mirror.

Instantly, he knew he simply had to go on a diet.

All thoughts of burgers vanished, and he hurried to the nearest Whole Foods for a kale smoothie, carefully checking the calories on his phone. Smoothie in hand, feeling really jazzed about losing weight, when he got back to the office he frantically researched different diets. After dithering for two hours, he finally settled on The South Beach Diet. It really was everything. There would be no more ordering out. From now on Nick would prepare his own, healthy meals. He stopped by the grocery store and floated around, pleased and excited as he shopped for lean, healthy foods, loading up on greens to make so many salads!

Chapter Four

Nick’s morning routine now included fussing with a measuring tape to check his waist size, getting on the scale and almost crying because he was still so fat! He needed to get down to 120 pounds! When he started, he’d carried a solid 175 on his 5’ 9” frame, mostly muscle from sweating it out at the gym. Now, logging each calorie into his diet APP meticulously, keeping himself to 1000 calories a day, where the average man needed 2000, the muscle melted. Starving and aided by Vanya’s magic, He lost weight rapidly, dropping 10 pounds a day. The first couple of days, no one seemed to notice, but the weekend came, and by the time Monday morning rolled around, he weighed a spritely 135. His tape measure showed his waist had slendered down from a disgusting 38 inches down to a little over 31. He threw the tape measure across the room, disgusted. He was nowhere near the 24 inch waist he needed to be happy.

Looking in the mirror, Nick could see he’d lost almost all of his muscle. He could see the ribs in his chest and ribcage, and his arms were like twigs. Am I there? He wondered. Did I reach my weight  goal at least? “120…. 120… please…. Please…” He whispered as he got on the scale. The digital readout flashed, 135.

“No! No!”  Nick screamed. “I’m still fat!” He’d been hungry since the day he started his diet, starving himself and it still wasn’t enough! It’s not fair, he thought. Some people are just naturally skinny, and I have to work so hard!

Well, he would just stick to his diet. He would get down to 120!

He’d worn sweatpants and a sweatshirt all weekend, had the heat up to sweat off the fat, so when he put on his work “uniform” his clothes hung off him like a tent.

When he tried to put on his belt, he found that he’d run out of loops. He found a pair of scissors and dug a new hole, but it was clear he was going to need new clothes.

Samantha and Danielle noticed it immediately when he came bounding into the office, not just because of how baggy his clothes had become, but his cheekbones were now more angular than ever. Nick ran up to the couch and planted his arm on the back, meaning to leap over as usual, but in addition to all the muscle loss he also had very little energy due to his crash diet. Instead of bounding over the couch, he ran into it and kind of rolled over it and then off it, landing on the floor in a tangle of knees and elbows.

“Are you okay?” Danielle said.

“Oh, my God!” Samantha shouted, as they both stood.

Nick, his bangs all in his eyes, waved them off, laughing, trying to play it off. “Epic fail,” he said. “Houston, we do not have liftoff!” He got up and took his usual seat on the couch, taking a moment to fix his hair. “Monday, am I right?”

“Okay, but are you alright?” Samantha said. Looking at how emaciated he’d become and how fast, she felt legitimately concerned for his health. Neither she nor Danielle immediately made the connection to his other changes, which had been totally cosmetic.

“Nothing bruised but my ego,” Nick said.

“No, I mean…” she gestured at his body. “You’ve lost a lot of weight.”

“Yeah, have you seen a doctor?” Danielle said. “It might be Covid?”

“What?” Nick felt himself cringe at the attention being paid to his fat, gross body. “No! I’m doing The South Beach Diet,” he said. “I mean, I know I have a long way to go, but I’m really serious about getting healthy this year.”

Like most women, Samantha and Danielle had friends who’d suffered eating disorders, so hearing the skeletal Nick talk about having a “long way to go” set off alarm bells. Danielle, starting to suspect Vanya, had mixed feelings. “This is not healthy,” said. “Nick, you must be starving yourself!”

“I’m so totally not,” Nick said, feeling defensive as he so totally was starving himself.

“You should probably see a doctor,” Samantha said. “What have you lost? 30 pounds?”

Nick huffed. “More like 40, and you guys are so over-acting to this.”

“You shouldn’t lose weight that fast. It isn’t healthy.”

Nick stood, put a hand on his hip and tossed his hair in fury. “Thanks for your support!” And then he turned and stormed off to his cubicle.

Danielle and Samantha huddled,  whispering. “Is this part of your thing?” Samantha asked, having begun to put it together.

“I think it might be,” Danielle said.

“You need to stop this. He’s become anorexic! I am not good with this anymore.”

“I totally agree. I’ll talk to Vanya. I– I never thought it would go this far.”

Nick threw himself into his work, as he always did when he was upset. But, he couldn’t stop thinking about the morning meeting. Jealous bitches, he kept thinking. Of course, they feel threatened seeing me get so thin!

After an hour, adrenaline burned, he felt himself flagging, sagging, struggling to think. He needed energy, and he needed it now. Coffee! Standing up made him feel a little dizzy, but gathering himself he headed out to Starbucks. As he waited in line, he found himself drooling at the thought of a Caramel Latte, but no. He’d worked too hard! So, he settled for a Venti. Black. Hadn’t he heard somewhere that caffeine was an appetite suppressant? He sure hoped so, because his stomach was aching for food.

Nick worked in his office the rest of the day, avoiding the bitches. He did make two more coffee runs. He and Danielle and Samantha exchanged emails and files, working that way. Nick didn’t know if he’d ever forgive them for body shaming him the way they did. The day ended, and when Nick left the office space, he actually felt his spirits lift. Shopping for new clothes! That would be fun. Night had fallen, and a chill winter breeze tossed his hair. He could see the Empire State Building off in the distance, the top lit blue and gold.  It was a perfect night in NYC!

Nick usually got his white shirts and black pants at Brooks Brothers, so he walked in that direction, enjoying the crisp night air, and he soon found himself lost in thought, his attention bopping from topic to topic– TV shows, songs, diet tips, hair tips, back to TV Shows… In fact, his energy starved brain had become scattered and unable to focus.

“Wait,” he said to himself, realizing that he’d been walking aimlessly, completely forgetting his plans to hit Brooks Brothers. “Where am I?” Looking for a landmark, he saw a familiar sign: Baba Yaga.

He decided to stop by, let Vanya know how much everyone loved his haircut. Stepping into the salon, he once more felt a little grossed out by its excessive feminine energy. “Nick,” Vanya said, rushing up and greeting him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You are just in time for your appointment.”

“Appointment?” Nick said, head instantly swimming from her perfume.

“Of course. To work with our stylist, Natasha. You need new clothes, right?”

“I do,” Nick said, remembering that, of course, he’d come here to see the stylist. For new clothes.

He handed Vanya the gift certificate he suddenly realized he was holding. “You’re getting so skinny!” Vanya, who was a full bodied woman, gushed. “I’m jealous!”

“Thanks,” Nick said, pleased someone was happy for him.

Natasha entered. Nick rated her a nine. That skin, and he could only wish to have a waist that small. “Oh! So pretty!” She said, greeting Nick with a hug and a kiss. ‘Let’s go next door and get you some clothes!” She took his soft hand in her own and dragged him toward the door.

“Next door?” Nick said, following along.

“Baba Yaga Boutique,” Vanya said. “Exquisite clothes. Imported. The finest materials.”

“You’re going to love the way you look,” Natasha said, giving Vanya a wink.

They entered the Baba Yaga Boutique. Nick stopped dead, and Natasha almost yanked him off his feet.  “What’s wrong?” She said, dragging Nick into the store. He shook his head side to side as he looked in horror at racks of dresses, skirts and blouses, looking like a child being dragged to the dentist by his mother.

“These are women’s clothes,” Nick said. There was another clerk there, and a couple of young, hip, female customers. They all stopped what they were doing and looked at Nick, who was terrified not just that Natasha was about to try and get him to put on a dress. No. He was terrified because part of him thought he might just like it.

“We have a men’s section,” Natasha said, giving his hand a squeeze. “You silly goose! Please, just trust me.”

“The men’s section is really good,” one of the hip young shoppers said.

“My boyfriend shops there all the time,” the other chimed in.

“Do you trust me?” Natasha said.

“Okay. Yeah.”

“Come! Let’s have some fun!”

The sign above the section she led him to read “Gender Free.”

Samantha and Danielle had agreed to grab a bite and then head down to see Vanya together. Samatha had mixed feelings. Baba Yaga was something off the rage among hip young professional women; she’d been hearing about the uber-maternal salon named after a witch from Russian folklore for months now, with girls constantly Instagramming their haircuts and make-overs, #babayaga. The owner, Vanya, a Ukranian immigrant, had a cutting edge femminist sensibility she infused into her business, and a lot of the young women who went there for a trim and some “advice” even called her Mother.

Yes, seeing Nick inflicted with anorexia, starving himself, made her blood boil. Eating disorders were no joke and no one, she felt, not even Nick, deserved that as some kind of twisted punishment.

Danielle opened the door to the salon and let Samantha enter first. As soon as she walked in she put her hand to her chest, overwhelmed by the maternal energy. “Oh, my God,” she said, feeling a sense of safety and calm wash over her.

“I know,” Danielle said.

Vanya approached. “Ladies, ladies,” she said, a broad, confident smile on her face. “Come. Come. I will allay your fears.”

“You know why we’re here?” Danielle said.

“You know I am a psychic,” Vanya said. “Why would that surprise you?”

Sometime later, the girls weren’t even sure, the women left Vanya’s den, hugging, laughing, and no longer worried in the least about Nick’’s health. Vanya had explained that Nick was merely experiencing something every woman went through as he struggled to meet unreasonable body standards. “But, look at his skin! His hair! My magic keeps him healthy!” Vanya showed them to the door, and Samantha backed out, waving, only to collide with someone behind her.

“Oh,” she said, turning. “I’m so sorry!” The girl she’’d bumped into had almost fallen into the street, but a passing man grabbed her arm and pulled her back and steadied her on her feet. “Oh, my God,” the “woman” said. “You totally saved me!”

Samantha did a double take. “Nick?”

“Samantha?”

“Nick?”

“Danielle?”

Nick had decided to wear some of his new clothes out of the boutique. Samantha took in the leather, bolero jacket with the high collar, the leather pants, and the cutest little beltt with a gold buckle. Samantha couldn’t help but notice he had a nice, trim little waist. The clothes clung to his new shape, showing off just how slender he’d become, and he was almost a whole new person. He had shopping bags hanging from each forearm.

“Did you get your hair done?” Nick said. He was starting to develop a feminine eye, and it didn’t look to him like either one had had anything done.

“Oh, no, I just– I love your outfit!” Daniellle said, wanting to change the subject.

“Oh, thanks,” Nick said, putting a hand on his hip and lifting a knee, thrilled they’d noticed.

“You’re so trendy,” Samantha said.

Nick tossed his hair. “I had a little help from my stylist.” As he said “stylist” he raised a slende eyebrow. He felt having a personal stylist was such a sign of status.

“Well, we’re off,” Danielle said, grabbing Samantha. “Meeting some friends.”

“Bye,” Nick said. “So great to bump into you. LOL!”

Nick carried his shopping home, still buzzing from the shopping experience Natasha had given him. He would go so far as to call it transcendant. It was like an acid trip, trying on all the outfits, coming out of the changing room, turning, listening to Natasha gush, or shake her head and say, “not for you.”

Shopping had always been such a boring chore for him, and Natasha had shown him how it could be a sport. It was like hunting, and when he did find just the right top and just the right slacks, it was GOAL!

Back home, he bagged all of what he thought of as his fat clothes for a donation to Goodwill. Then, he carefully hung his new clothes in his closet. He stopped and stared at them, lined up so sharp and perfect and new, and he sighed, thinking, “I’m going to need a bigger closet!”

At last, he could relax and watch some Chicago PD. Taking off the soft t-shirt he’d worn under his new jacket, he undid his waist trainer with a sigh of relief. Natasha had talked him into it, telling him he could never diet his way to the 24 inch waist he’d confessed to her he was working toward. The waist trainer hurt! It cut into his sides and felt like it was crushing all his internal organs. But, what choice did he have? He knew he couldn’t get the kind of body he needed without sacrifice, something Natasha had emphasized. “All those people out there unhappy with their bodies,” she’d said as she’d strapped Nick into his girdle, “they lack the will to beauty.’

The next morning, Nick went through his new and ever growing routine.  Hair. Skin cream. Concealer. Waist trainer. He fussed for half an hour before even getting dressed in his new work outfit. Gone were the days when he was out the door 15 minutes after rolling out of bed.

Once more, the scale and measuring tape left him feeling crushed, but Natasha had assured him his body would learn to adjust to the demands of the waist trainer, and gradually what was now forced would become natural. He couldn’t wait.

Lastly, the new work uniform he and Natasha had worked out: a flouncy white, silk shirt, one tail tucked in and the other one free, black leather pants, and his new work boots:

. Nick was glad Natasha had talked him into the “bro length” pants, which hugged his calves and ended just above his new boots. It would be a shame to hide them under long, sloppy looking pants, he’d agreed. He wanted everyone to see all those manly buckles. It was exactly what a viking would wear, she’d told him, and all the rage these days among the men who had the confidence to wear them.

And, in fact, there was a new kind of confidence in Nick’s step as he bopped on down to the office this morning. He felt trendy, fashionable, brave. He’d been wearing the same boring clothes for so long, and it just made him feel like a completely different man as he strode down the sidewalk now, hands tucked into the pockets of his bolero jacket, glancing in the storefront windows, checking himself out the whole way to work.

As he passed the Gamer Girl’’s workspace, he crossed paths with Gisellle again, and she greeted him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “This,” she said, holding her palm out toward Nick, “works. All of it!  And where did you get those boots?"

Nick hooked his hair behind his ear. “Baba Yaga,” he said, adding a little whisper to the words, as if he were revealing a big secret.

“Of course,” Giselle said. “Where else would a girl like you shop?”

Nick laughed. He was enjoying their little banter. “Only the best for me. Hey, how about we get that that drink tonight after work?”

Giselle handed him her phone. “Give me your digits.”

Nick did, more excited than he’d been about the possibility of hooking up with a woman than he’d been in a long time. “Call me,” he said as the conversation ended and they headed their separate ways.

Danielle and Samantha had thought they were ready for anything after their talk with Vanya,  but neither could hide their surprise when Nick walked in looking like a very fashionable young woman of Manhattan.  They loved his new look, and they told him so in gushing voices. Like a lot of modern women in NY running a start-up, Danielle and Samantha dressed down most days unless they had a client coming into the office.  So, they both sat in their comfortable jeans and hoodies, while Nick walked around the couch– there would be no more jumping after yesterday and besides– in these boots? He was already the most feminine dressed of the three.

Nick sat down, got his work material out of his satchel, placed them in neat piles on the coffee table and then, hands in his lap, looked at the two of them expectantly, raising one slender eyebrow.

Danielle realized he was waiting for one of them to take the lead. “Let’s get to work,” she said.

Nick smiled, brushing his bangs back out of his eyes. He crossed his legs, drawing attention to the shiny buckles on his new boots.

“Cute boots!” Samantha said. She loved drawing girly reactions from the new and evolving Nick.  He did not disappoint.

“I am so in love with these,” he said, twiddling his foot. “I saw them, and I just had to have them.”

“I know the feeling,” Danielle said.

There was something bothering Nick. He felt another one of those weird new feelings. “Guys,” he said. “One thing before we start?”

There was a lift in his voice. He was asking permission.

“Sure,” Danielle said.

“I just wanted to apologize for my outburst yesterday. I feel so bad?”

Nick? Apologizing? Could it get better than this? The women forgave him and assured him it was all behind them. Nick almost cried, but held back his tears.