Muscles

The muscle card stood out with its golden and orange border.

He chose the muscle card, which transformed into three photos that looked like DMV headshots. He saw himself, the salesgirl from the shoe store, and Tiffany, one of his colleagues.

Choosing himself, the card now displayed the words: "Traits: Gymbunny, Oiled Up." The app chimed softly in confirmation as he glanced around to ensure no one was watching.

"Achievements unlocked: 'Uncommon Card I - 150 points,' 'All for Myself II - 150 points,'" the app proudly announced.

Alex quickly dismissed the notification, the words "Gymbunny" and "Oiled Up" lingering in his mind like an echo. He shook his head. He had more pressing matters to attend to, like getting through another monotonous workday without drawing attention to himself.

As noon approached, his stomach growled—a sharp reminder that he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. He glanced at the clock and decided it was time for lunch. He carefully slid his chair back and stood up, ensuring his heels were hidden beneath the desk as he straightened his suit.

He made his way towards the elevator, each step punctuated by a discreet but satisfying click of his Mary Janes. It felt like a private symphony that only he could hear, adding a layer of thrill to the mundane act of heading out for lunch.

The lobby was bustling with employees hurrying in and out. Alex kept his eyes forward, avoiding contact as he exited the building. Outside, the city hummed with energy—cars honked, people chatted on their phones, and office workers grabbed quick bites from street vendors.

Alex decided on a small café a few blocks away. The place had an inviting charm, with its brick façade and quaint outdoor seating area adorned with flower boxes bursting with vibrant blooms. He walked briskly, feeling fear and excitement as he navigated the crowded sidewalk. Each step felt more natural, the heels clicking against the pavement in a rhythm that seemed to sync with his racing heart.

At the café, Alex ordered a Panini and a cappuccino, retreating to a secluded corner table. He sank into the chair, the leather seat cool against his skin through his trousers. He glanced around as he waited for his order, absently checking if anyone had noticed his unconventional footwear. No one seemed to care; people were too engrossed in their lives to pay attention.

He fumbled with his phone, tapping the screen until he found the app. The vortex icons swirled as he clicked on them, revealing a countdown timer of 22 hours, approximately the same time he got the notification today. At the bottom, the navigation bar displayed several icons - an award, a shopping cart, and a card collection binder.

He began to understand how the app worked as he tapped each icon. The award icon displayed a list of achievements, with the Common and Uncommon cards showing a halfway-filled progress bar. He assumed that he would level up in those categories once he selected another card. However, the shopping cart icon appeared greyed out and inaccessible. When he clicked on the card collection binder, it showed him the two cards he had already collected and listed all his acquired traits at the bottom of the page.

When his cappuccino and panini arrived, the steam curled up in inviting tendrils. He took a sip, savouring the rich, velvety taste that momentarily anchored him in reality.

Alex finished his meal, feeling momentarily grounded by the comforting flavours. The slight clicking of his heels resumed as he returned to the office, each step a blend of trepidation and exhilaration. Upon entering the familiar confines of his workplace, he navigated through a maze of cubicles, nodding perfunctorily at colleagues who were too absorbed in their screens to notice much else.

He reached the men's restroom, a sanctuary where he could gather his thoughts and check himself. The room was empty, save for the hum of fluorescent lights overhead. He stepped in front of the mirror, eyes immediately drawn to his reflection. His suit was as crisp as it had been this morning, but those sleek black Mary Janes stood out starkly against the conservative backdrop.

Alex's gaze travelled upward, scrutinising his core. He noticed the faint outline of fat through his shirt, a product of years of procrastination and lack of sport. The app's influence whispered in his mind, urging him to embrace the "Gymbunny" trait to change that. He pulled out his phone again and looked for a gym between work and his apartment.

His search brought up a boutique fitness centre just two blocks away—FitNest. Its sleek website promised state-of-the-art equipment, personalised training programs, and an atmosphere that balanced intensity with chic comfort. Alex felt a tug of curiosity. Maybe this could be the change he needed.

He made a mental note to visit FitNest after work. The idea of transforming his body excited him in ways he hadn’t expected, not just for physical health but also to leverage the app's influence. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, looked at himself in the mirror, and returned to his desk.

The remainder of the afternoon dragged on with monotonous meetings and data reports. Alex’s mind wandered frequently, and he imagined himself lifting weights at FitNest, muscles straining under a sheen of sweat. The image was oddly satisfying.

As the clock hit five, he packed up swiftly and exited the office, careful not to draw Anna's attention. Her sharp eyes had a way of noticing the slightest inconsistencies, and he wasn’t ready to face her questions yet.

Before going to the gym, he stopped by a sports shop and bought multiple leggings, skin-tight shorts, sports bras, and tank tops. The store was awash in bright lights and vibrant colours. Racks of athletic wear stretched in every direction, and the smell of new fabric hung in the air. Alex first approached a row of leggings, running his fingers over the smooth, stretchy material. He chose a dark pair with neon accents that caught his eye and moved on to the shorts. Here, he picked up several pairs in shades of black, navy, and even a daring red.

The sports bras were following. Shelves held an array of styles and sizes. His pulse quickened as he selected one that matched the red shorts. It felt like crossing an invisible line—one step further into this new identity. Tank tops were easier; they felt like a smaller leap. He grabbed a few in neutral tones: white, grey, and black.

At the counter, the cashier—a young woman with dyed blue hair and multiple ear piercings—scanned his items without raising an eyebrow. "Going for a new look?" she asked nonchalantly.

Alex hesitated, then gave her a smile. "Something like that."

As he approached FitNest, the building's modern architecture stood out against the classic brick facades around it. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased rows of sleek exercise machines and disciplined patrons already working hard. A digital signboard above the entrance flashed motivational slogans: "Push Your Limits" and "Transform Yourself Today!"

Inside, Alex found a pristine lobby that smelled faintly of eucalyptus and citrus. The receptionist behind the counter flashed a professional smile, her eyes scanning him briefly before returning to her screen.

"Welcome to FitNest! Are you here for a membership or just visiting?" she asked smoothly.

"Membership," Alex replied, trying to keep his voice steady. This was all new territory for him, but the prospect of starting this journey filled him with unexpected excitement.

"Great! We have several plans available. Let me show you our tier options," she said, sliding an information pamphlet across the counter.

As Alex scanned the colourful brochure, he noticed the different membership levels: Basic, Plus, and Premium. Basic offered access to all standard equipment and group classes. Plus included spa access and nutrition consultations. Premium, the most expensive tier, provided a personal trainer, custom workout routines, and priority booking for classes.

The thought of having a personal trainer intrigued him. Someone who could guide him through his transformation sounded appealing. He made up his mind quickly.

"I'll go with Premium," he said, surprising himself with how decisive he sounded.

"Excellent choice," the receptionist responded, her smile widening. "Let's get you signed up."

As he filled out the necessary forms, he couldn't help but notice the hum of activity around him. FitNest was alive with energy—patrons lifting weights, running on treadmills, stretching in mirrored studios. Motivational posters and abstract art adorned the walls, adding to the gym’s chic aesthetic.

Once Alex completed his paperwork, the receptionist handed him a sleek membership card. "Welcome to FitNest, Alex. Your personal trainer will be Zoe; she's one of our best. She'll meet you in Studio 3 in ten minutes for an initial assessment."

Alex felt a rush of anticipation. He thanked the receptionist and headed to the locker rooms to change into his new athletic wear. The locker room was immaculate, with polished wooden benches and rows of gleaming metal lockers. He found an empty one, stripped off his work clothes, and carefully pulled on the skin-tight shorts and matching sports bra, covering it with a grey tank top.

He hesitated, then slipped into the dark leggings with neon accents. The sensation was both alien and strangely exhilarating. He examined himself in the full-length mirror on the wall. The transformation was stark—he looked like a completely different person, more aligned with his new path.

Alex left the locker room, feeling a mix of vulnerability and excitement. The gym seemed busier now, and patrons were focused on their routines. However, he felt their occasional glances briefly alight on him before returning to their tasks.

Studio 3 was spacious, with polished wooden floors and floor-to-ceiling mirrors along one wall. Zoe was already there, stretching with fluid grace. Her athletic build and toned muscles were evident beneath her workout gear.