Gaining for You

Harrison

Standing in front of the mirror, he gives way to muscle memory as he fastens the cuff links to his dress shirt and then tugs at the sleeves until they sit perfectly under his suit jacket. 

He grabs a rolex from the velvet tray of watches on the counter and fastens it to his wrist. 

Looking directly at his reflection, Harrison peels off a fresh sheet before beginning to roll the invisible lint supposedly clinging to the entirety of his suit.

Another day, another benefit. The appeal seems very... lackluster. He'd never admit it to his benefactors but he's becoming a bit jaded at the entirety of it. He's starting to understand why a lot of wealthy people willingly involve themselves in shady things. Nothing like straddling the law to keep you on your toes. 

Bored.

That's how he's feeling lately. 

He pulls at his tie and then leans in closer to the mirror. He pulls at it again and then decides to take it off. Harrison readjusts his collar to sit flat and leaves the tie on the sink's ledge. As he walks out of the room, he pulls out his phone to go through his emails to remind himself of which nonprofit he's holding a banquet for tonight. During his search he comes across a speech someone has written for him to give tonight and flags the email. 

Without looking, he grabs a pair of keys from the glass bowl at the front door and heads to the garage. He puts his phone in his pocket as he approaches the vehicles and indulges in a game of roulette. He presses the unlock button on the key fob and one of the vehicles wakes up to greet him. Aston Martin DB11 it is. He lowers his frame into the car and drives to the banquet hall in silence.

When he gets there, someone from valet offers to park his car but Harrison insists on doing it himself. He backs into a parking stall and turns the vehicle off. He sits there in silence for a while, staring out of the tinted windshield. He watches as older versions of himself, accompanied by beautiful women, walk in through the main doors.

He hasn't let go of the steering wheel yet. Harrison lets out a drawn out breath as he slowly lowers his head until his forehead meets the top of the steering wheel; then he groans. 

The event organizer's name lights up on his phone screen and he immediately grabs his phone and jumps out of the car before he loses motivation and drives back home. He locks the car and drops the keys in his pocket. He walks briskly towards the entrance hoping that the blood flow will help thaw out his pre-canned personality. 

It seems to have worked because he sees his smile reflected on the first face he meets. He and some random man shake hands and exchange small talk; a way of christening the long night of handshakes and small talk he's going to have to endure tonight.

All things considered, he has to admit that the venue is rather nice. It doesn't look like it from the outside but the interior reflects everything of an old historical building. The aesthetic is old and Victorian; a dark academic's wet dream. The walls are high, the paintings are elegant. They probably hold ballets and operas here. There are multiple floors and many elaborately curved stairways throughout. He's glad that the venue has depth to it through the many rooms and floors as it gives him many opportunities to hide away from masses of people. For a second, it ignites an excitement he'd feel as a child upon approaching a large indoor jungle gym. 

After fulfilling his major duties of the night (giving a speech, taking photos with huge boards made to look like cheques, nodding and smiling and making empty promises), Harrison allows himself a couple flutes of champagne before retiring to the upper balcony. He places both hands onto the railing as he peers down at everyone below him. The large foyer reminds him of a living "Where's Waldo" page and he finds pleasure in picking out the people that he knows. He needs to make a note to ask his event organizer to reuse this venue in the future. It has made the night that much more bearable. As he goes to look down at his phone, someone catches his eye.

The night just keeps getting better.

He watches a woman in a tight green dress saunter through the hall with no immediate purpose. The dress fits her shape well. Her muffin top sits well on top of her wide hips and her stomach protrudes out from her center quite a bit. The dress' length comes down to about her knees but he can tell her thighs are probably touching underneath the fabric. Her arms press against the sides of her body spreading the flesh and making them look twice as large. Harrison's eyes wander to her hips and take in the crease dividing her lower body from her well-endowed upper body. Her shape makes him wonder how she even got the dress on in the first place. Then he starts imagining it playing out. It seems like it would be nothing less than a struggle and the struggle would probably have her out of breath... the image of this stranger being red in the face manifests itself between his legs.

Harrison adjusts his pants and takes a step away from the railing before he gets charged with public indecency. His eyes are still glued to her and he watches as she makes her way over to the buffet table. Her gaze wanders over the table of delicacies before reaching out to grab her choice. Her body turns to face the room and he gets a good look at the front of her body all the way up to... her face.

"No fucking way."

Harrison's surprise is drowned out in the sea of murmuring. 

The memory of Genesis revealing her feelings for him months prior resurface immediately.

This woman likes him enough to change her entire body in hopes that he might be attracted to her. How flattering.

The concept sounds crazy, so he goes to pick her out of the crowd again just to make sure it is her and not just a figment of his imagination. It is her. Genesis Winters, looking fine as fuck. Knowing that it's Genesis makes this all the more exciting. He already knows her and already feels comfortable around her. He can't wait to get his hands on that bloated waistline. Harrison watches as she places a powdered donut into her mouth, wiping away at the dust that coats her lips.

Harrison laughs as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head at how perfect this all is. He passively told her to gain sixty pounds and she did; maybe even more. What else would she do for him if he asked?