Jaqui and Mara's sweet date

Opening scene

You finish counting out the last rep and glance over at the woman struggling on the treadmill. The joke leaves your mouth before you can stop it — something cruel about “maybe trying a salad instead of the vending machine.” She doesn’t argue. She just looks at you, calm and tired, and says under her breath, “Hope you enjoy the taste of sugar for the rest of your life.”

That night you find a half-eaten chocolate bar in your gym bag that you swear wasn’t there before. One bite and a warm, syrupy heat spreads through your stomach. By morning your face looks rounder, your chest is faintly swollen, and your jeans dig into soft new flesh at your waist.

A text from an unknown number arrives while you’re staring at the scale: “Every sweet makes you softer, prettier, and dumber. Keep starving yourself if you want. The curse loves a challenge.” Your hand is already reaching for the leftover donuts in the break room. The first real wave of changes has begun.

Turn 1 of 6

You are drawn to sweets throughout the day and can't resist. Your body begins to show changes, a loss of definition, a belly roll forms, cheeks soften and moobs and fat behind appear. The next morning you wake up as an massively obese female blonde, in love with your body. You seek out the women at the gym and strike up a chat and become flirty fat friends

The morning sun cuts through the blinds of your apartment, and you stretch in bed with a sound that surprises you — a soft, high hum. The ceiling fan wobbles overhead, and you watch it for a long, pleasant moment, your mind drifting like cream settling into coffee. Everything feels warm. Everything feels good. The scale in the bathroom reads a number that would have made yesterday's Jake scream, but today's Jake — today's *you* — just tilt your head, smile at the mirror, and think, *cute.*

Your reflection stares back: massive, soft, round in every direction, blonde hair tumbling past your shoulders in waves that catch the light. Your face is wide and dimpled, cheeks flushed pink, lips full. Breasts spill heavy and warm against your chest, resting on the great round shelf of your belly. Your hips flare out absurdly wide, your thighs thick and pressing together all the way to your knees. Your arms are soft, your fingers plump. You run your hands over yourself slowly, and a giddy little laugh bubbles up. You look *amazing.*

At Apex Fitness, you walk in wearing yoga pants and a tank top that fits like a second skin, and every head turns. You don't care about the stares. You *like* the stares. You find the treadmill section without even thinking about it, and there she is — the woman from before. Mara. She's walking at a steady pace, earbuds in, and when she sees you approaching, her steps falter. Her eyes go wide.

"Oh my God," she says, pulling one earbud free. "You — you actually —"

"Hi!" you beam, bouncing on your heels, the motion sending ripples through your whole body.

"I'm Jaqui. I don't think we ever properly met? I just wanted to say, like, I *love* your vibe? And also —" You lean in conspiratorially, your belly pressing against the treadmill's rail. "Do you wanna grab smoothies later? There's this place that does a caramel peanut butter one that is literally to die for."

Mara stares at you for a long, unreadable beat. Then something shifts in her face — not guilt, not quite regret, but something adjacent to both. She pulls the other earbud out.

"You don't remember what I said to you yesterday."

"You said something yesterday?" You giggle, waving a plump hand.

"Oh my gosh, I'm *so* bad with details. Was it something about protein? Anyway, are you busy after your workout? Because I'm *starving.*"