Defined

Chapter 1

CH. 1

    “How would I know what I looked like without mirrors?” Marcus wondered as he searched for the flaws in his reflection. To the right of his chin had been a troublesome area the last few weeks so he leaned in to scrutinize.  The pimples there seemed to be going away and hopefully the others would soon follow. The ones on his back weren’t as concerning because he was the only person to see them on a regular basis. His attention then shifted from face to body. The tank top he had slept in clung tightly to his muscular frame, revealing his cut and well-crafted form. Even so, he pulled it off and slung it to the ground in one fluid motion. Light bounced off his rigid angles as he flexed and focused on each body part one at a time lingering on the cold bathroom tiles. Reaching the end of his routine Marcus put his tank top back on and walked into his room to get money and supplies.

    From his top dresser drawer he extracted some of the money he had earned from his summer jobs. During the day he was a member of his uncle’s roofing crew laboring in the exhausting sun. He was no stranger to hard work though, having worked in an identical fashion for the past three summers. At night he took on a second job as a janitor at a local gym. His main purpose there was to make sure things looked clean. The place wasn't exactly what one would call a fitness club. It was more of a grimy room surrounded by mirrors where really intense bodybuilders would go to improve their already brooding physiques. It was a land of big men getting bigger free from the distraction of women in leotards bouncing around in aerobics classes. It wasn't long before the manager, Wallace, entrusted Marcus with a key. Though there really wasn't much damage he could do. There wasn’t even a register. In the event Wallace needed money he would call on one of the Goliaths he called a “regular” to pay his monthly dues.

    But it wasn’t the pay that allowed Wallace to retain Marcus as an employee. The best perk of the job was the freedom to work out whenever he wanted. When he was finished cleaning after everyone had left he would spend hours by himself in front of those mirrors just trying to get the smallest of advantages. He needed to be bigger and stronger than anybody else on the field. And not just on his team or at his school or in his state. Anybody that picked up a ball or a bat was competition.

    Money in hand Marcus moved to the closet where he took out a pair of his father's dress pants. They had been kept for him to wear but they were a little too big and hung loose around his legs. From the pocket he retrieved his supply pouch and returned the pants to the closet. "I'm safe," he thought to himself. "Mom has no reason to go in my clothes and she would never go near those pants." Without notice the minutes had passed away while Marcus was in front of the mirror. He glanced at the clock and was surprised to see how late it was. He left his room quietly, closing the door behind him using very deliberate steps to navigate his exit. The little house groaned and creaked. He made it through the front door and stepped out into the warm muggy morning air. Although his summer was over the weather was no indication. Sweat started to gather on the back of his neck where his hair met his skin after five full steps. Despite the weather he managed to keep an expeditious pace not wanting to keep Jason waiting.

    The sun still hadn’t risen by the time he reached the gym. He opened the door and walked to the counter. Wallace folded down his newspaper nodded at Marcus then went back to reading. Marcus worked his way through the maze of weights and into the locker room. He sat down on the bench and opened his pouch as Jason came around the corner.

    "So how’s the swing looking?" asked Jason. He usually started off his conversations with a question about his customer's game. Just a way off conveying his genuine interest in their life and well-being. The first time he saw Marcus working out he had asked him that very same question. Marcus had been wearing an "East Baseball" t-shirt which caught Jason's eye, being a proud graduate and all. Jason watched the baseball box scores very closely so the name Marcus Robeson was more than familiar to him. After several encounters and conversations he became Marcus Robeson the client rather than Marcus Robeson the name in the paper.