The Gym

Your first thought, instinctively, was the gym. Like, it made sense. You never went to the gym, of course, despite having received various memberships over the years from friends and family. Despite not necessarily being in 'peak' condition, the simple thought of waking up early and tearing yourself away from the warm embrace of your bed, just to exercise, as well as not necessarily needing to, turned you away every time. Knowing this, you'd never be discovered by people you actually know in the place, no matter how sad that sounds. In addition, you'd have access to women wearing more sexually appealing clothing, like training bras and yoga pants.

From the one or two instances where you actually DID go inside the gym, you have a fairly good idea of what it looks like. You imagine the two-story building, with the cute receptionist that you never ended up getting past due to lack of effort. The big glass windows in the front that showed off the people inside getting their daily workout in.

With that mental image forming, Charles asks, almost on queue, "Got a place in mind, have you?" Nodding in response to his question, he proceeds with a warm, "Alrighty then! I'll be opening the door now. The light's gonna be a bit blinding at first, but just will yourself and walk on through, understand?"

Giving him another one of the countless nods you've provided today, the man grasps the glimmering silver handle, and steps backward, his momentum bringing the grand doors with him. A powerful white light pours into the room, consuming your vision entirely.

"Remember, lad," you hear Charles speak up as you close your eyes in the shower of light. "Don't overthink things. It's that simple, you hear?"

Unable to see anything around you or confirm your surroundings, you take a step forward and begin walking towards the light...

...

...

You hear the electronic sliding of doors, snapping you back into 'reality'. Standing in the entrance of a tall building, you stare into the oddly familiar lobby, the hum of various fans filling it with noise.

Were you just daydreaming?

The sun, still low, as if you had come to exercise early in the morning, shines on your back. The room before you is moderately sized; a few chairs and weight racks lining the wall. In one corner, next to one of the aforementioned fans, is a big pink exercise ball. Spanning across the wall parallel to you, save for hallways leading further into the facility on either end, is a long, marble, quarter-circle desk. On top of the structure, with its shining marble top, rests the pale feet of an angsty looking receptionist.

You remember her from the few times you've walked past the building. Her lack of motivation seemed so odd, given her job. Aren't gym employees supposed to be preppy and excitable? Catalysts for motivation? Nonetheless, there she was. Sitting like a bump on a log, cracking gum, and exuding utter apathy as she scrolled through her phone.

Given the fact she didn't even bother looking up at you as you entered the room, you had a moment to check her out. Her chin-length hair was dyed bright green, and a long sleeve, black shirt with a retro skull logo was covering her perky breasts. Some piercings accentuate her face; primarily a silver septum ring, and a set of snakebites on her lower lip. Various shades of black and blue makeup paint her face, excessive amounts of eyeliner and mascara forming circles around her eyes. Leaning back in her work chair, you see the girl's dark blue skinny jeans hugging a set of crossed, surprisingly toned legs. The dark denim cuts off just above her ankles, leaving every inch of a strikingly pale pair of high arches visible for you to drool at.

God... between the hazy recollection of your odd dream, and the undeniably arousing view in front of you, you couldn't remember her name. It was on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, you just couldn't recall it. The thought doesn't linger for too long, though, as your growing boner seems insistent on reminding you of that strikingly realistic daydream from before. Glancing at the exposed soles, despite how badly you might want it to be real, you can't actually manage to get your hopes up. This was because, despite what appeared to be her providing easy access to her delectable looking soles, you recall the receptionist being in an extremely similar position last time you saw her. Just with purple hair, and a change of clothes.

As you think to yourself, you begin absentmindedly walking towards the front desk. Some part of you knew you'd come here for a reason, and standing stationary at the entrance of the building wasn't it. As you move, the nameless receptionist moves her heavy-lidded eyes up to you as a small pink bubble begins forming between her dark blue lips. The resulting pop causes you to jump slightly, grounding you back in the physical reality of the moment. Staring back at the woman, you wait for her to say something. What shocks you, though, is how she simply lets out an almost knowing sigh, before uncrossing her legs, and going back to her phone.

Taken aback momentarily, your brain begins running on overdrive as you think to yourself. Was that just... her preparing to get up? Or adjusting to get comfortable? What if the Charles thing WAS real? Was it worth ruining any potential future interactions with this person to find out? Maybe you could just... look for clues elsewhere, before risking your chances, here?