Take My Body (Curse Bound 2)

Chapter 1 - Caspian

“You can do this. You’re twenty-three, a grown man. You don’t care anymore how others judge you,” Caspian told himself, staring at the newest Instagram photo of a bodybuilder he followed. The bastard had two women hanging off his flexed arms, as if he were a tree, and he’d surely eaten Caspian’s daily calorie allowance for breakfast. Since everyone went low-carb nowadays, his diet was likely based on nuts—one of the many mundane things that could kill Caspian.

It seemed to come so easily to this guy, as if he actually enjoyed several hours of exercise per day and never got bored of grilled chicken. Perhaps Caspian was looking for excuses. Nobody had blocked his way into the college gym, but the shame of revealing his frail arms and legs to anyone there terrified him to the point where he never used their facilities despite paying for the membership each year.

He’d tried calisthenics and workouts utilizing everyday objects, but neither did anything for him, and after attempting a ‘healthy’ diet several times, even the scent of protein powder gave him nausea. Still, those were excuses.

So maybe he’d never grow taller than five-foot-three, but he could most definitely gain muscle mass, and exceed the hundred and twelve pounds he’d been stuck at since graduating from high school. If he was lucky, maybe he’d escape the purgatory called undateable while he was at it. Despite the dislike for his physique, Caspian could see he wasn’t ugly. He did have a good enough face, with plump lips that could have been considered sexy, and if he gained weight, his large blue eyes would make him look attractive rather than childlike.

Tonight, he would stop holding himself back. He’d just obtained his bachelor’s degree, chosen a specialization, and returned home to work at Dad’s firm. And since he considered this the start of a new life, he was determined to make a change. To no longer be the nerdy kid who tried to fit in by means of self-deprecating humor. So he motivated himself with more photos from the same Instagram account and stepped into the dark parking lot, facing the sprawling gym across the street.

As soon as he spotted the bulky men in tank tops chatting in front of the entrance, his instincts screamed for him to hide in the vehicle. They told him that he could use his mom’s kettlebells for at-home weight training. That he could eat two extra chicken breasts a day instead of putting himself through this grinder.

But what he needed wasn’t a workout video on YouTube. Only real engagement, advice, and the motivation of being watched during exercise could change things. Maybe, just maybe, he’d even meet someone with boyfriend potential, but that wasn’t his priority. No. This was Caspian staking his claim. Battling for ground in uncharted territory. Molding himself into the man he was meant to be.

Fortune favors the bold.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled once he stood behind the man blocking his way into the gym.

Nothing.

“Excuse me,” he repeated to no avail. “Excuse me?” Caspian tut-tutted in frustration and dared to tap the man in front of him on the arm.

The human tank turned his bald head in surprise. “Didn’t see you there.”

“That’s okay.” Caspian lifted his eyebrows expectantly and glanced from the guy’s square face to the door.

It was only then that the living mountain stepped away from his two friends, creating a corridor for Caspian. Mumbling his thanks, Caspian walked in, assaulted by the bright lights revealing every detail of his small form. He always dressed in layers to create the illusion of more bulk on his upper body, but the LEDs were merciless and surely cast shadows on his narrow cheeks, making him look as if he were starving himself.

He didn’t like it here. Unlike the sleek gyms in the city where he studied, this one seemed… unwashed, for lack of a better word. Like the kind of guy who maintained the very basics of hygiene but sported oily hair and wore the same clothes three days in a row. Ugly graffiti covered the walls in the exercise space, and the floor had cracks no one had bothered to repair. Worst of all, it smelled—of sweat, cheap male deodorant, and dust. Hint of mold maybe? But what was he to expect of Grit, Ohio?

The woman at the reception desk gave him a wide smile, which was more professional than he’d expected from this dump. But he still hated having to interact with her in a place where men like the three at the entrance passed through the door every single day. She might not see how bony Caspian was through his clothes, but there was no hiding the fact that she was taller than him.

Caspian endured a brief introduction, signed papers, paid, and accepted a key before hiding in the locker room. Relief made him exhale when he realized the small interior with light blue tiles on both the floor and walls was empty, even if a bit grimy. At least the faint scent of disinfectant promised he wouldn’t be getting athlete's foot. Hopefully.