Turn 21 of 28

reply to more comments and ask subscribers what they want to see next. They suggest a video that shows her current weight.

Lena opens the laptop again after finishing half the ribs and a full bottle of wine. The comment section on her second video has grown — sixty-one comments now, and she scrolls through them with sauce still on her fingers, leaving faint red smudges on the trackpad. She types out replies slowly, carefully, each one a small act of connection with someone she will never meet in person.

To a user called biggersoft who wrote "the way you don't even pause when you release — that's real," she replies: "it stopped feeling like something to pause for a long time ago. my body does what it does and i just let it." To witnessme, who tipped seventy-five dollars and commented "you look so calm. like you've made peace with something," she writes: "i have. i made peace with all of it. this body is exactly what i always wanted and i'm not going back." She replies to expandinghorizon, to softbellygainer, to a new user called alwayshungry who has commented three times on the same video. Each reply sends the warmth pulsing through her, and she begins to feel the community as something tangible — a presence in the room with her, a chorus of voices that see her and approve.

She opens a new post and types: "i want to hear from you. what do you want to see next? what do you want more of? tell me and i'll make it." She posts it and reaches for the macaroni and cheese, eating with her fingers while the laptop pings with notifications. The responses come faster than she expects.

feedmore: "honest answer? i want to see your weight. like the actual number. step on a scale and show us." growwithme: "seconded. we've watched you grow for weeks but we don't know the number. show us where you are." A user called thescalematters writes: "please. weigh yourself on camera. let us see the number. it would mean everything." More comments pile in — twelve, then fifteen, then twenty — all with the same request. They want to see the scale. They want to know the number. They want to witness the physical, measurable reality of what the wish has done to her.

Lena reads through all of them and feels a flush spread across her chest. She hasn't weighed herself since the early days, when the number first began climbing and she stepped on the scale every morning with a mixture of dread and fascination. She stopped weeks ago. The number stopped mattering because the growth was obvious in the way her belly hung lower, the way her thighs pressed together, the way her body filled the couch. But her subscribers want to see it. They want the number. They want to witness the transformation made concrete and measurable.

She finds a comment from deepgainer that reads: "it's not just about the number. it's about seeing you acknowledge it. seeing you look at the scale and accept what it tells you. that's what would make it real." Lena stares at it for a long moment, her belly resting heavy between her thighs, and feels the warmth pulse, steady and approving. She types a reply: "ok. next video. i'll find my scale and show you everything."