BHM Canned Love (Sequel to Acid Orchid) ~SSBHM Realistic WG Infidelity

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Well-Known Member
Mar 29, 2020
Canned Love
by magodamilion2

Scene 1: The Final Weekend

It took time to get used to having a nearly six-hundred-pound boyfriend.

But after seven months together (and three months actually living together), Mia pretty much had it all figured out. Sometimes she’d even forget, she’d gotten so used to looking at Scott that the novelty of his weight had worn off. Most of the time now, she didn’t consciously see how big he was, he just looked like himself.

But then every so often, she’d catch him at a certain angle or in a room she hadn’t seen him in before, or interacting with someone new, and it would be like seeing him for the first time all over again.

In those moments, Scott’s size honestly still shocked her. Like yesterday morning for instance, she was in the bathroom brushing her teeth, looking at herself in the mirror, when he walked in to grab his hair gel. She watched as he stepped through the door, having to angle himself sideways to avoid smacking his absurdly wide torso against the doorframe. As his reflection filled up the mirror, it became glaring how mismatched they looked. In the context of standing beside her, he looked impossibly large, like to the point where it almost amazed her that he was still able to stand upright. And in moments like those, she’d feel turned on with such an urgency, she didn’t even try to contain herself. As he walked out the bathroom, she immediately spit her toothpaste into the sink, though she wasn’t finished yet, and darted to their bedroom.

If he’d been a normal sized person, she would’ve grabbed him in a hug and flirtatiously pushed him into the bed. But as is, she only managed to push herself into him with such a lack of force, he was able to continue gelling his hair as if she’d only lightly touched him.

He had raised his eyebrows, while continuing to look at his reflection and said, “Um excuse me, can I help you ma’am?”

“Yeah, you can stop what you’re doing and take off your clothes,” she’d said mischievously.

He had laughed, one of those scoffing quiet laughs where it just sounds like a quick exhale, but it still lit up his face. He pretended to check his watch, “Oh so sorry, I can’t, I’m just way too busy.”

He was teasing her, he had nowhere to go for another two hours. But he loved it when she got desperate for him. He put down the gel and started walking towards the living room. So, she moved her arm in front of him, squeezing herself into his massive bulging belly as hard as she could muster, as if she could stop him from leaving the room.

“Ma’am! What are you doing! You can’t physically accost someone like this! This is assault!” He’d begun to do some sort of goofy falsetto fancy voice, like an impression of an old woman.

She laughed, sliding her hand down his belly, trailing the underside of his overhang, then slipping her hand into his boxers. Lucky he wasn’t dressed yet, this would’ve been impossible if he was wearing jeans and a belt. Lately he had taken to wearing his pants over his belly instead of under, which she didn’t love because you could no longer see the full outline of his lower belly. It was still kinda hot in its own way though, since the pants cut right through his mid-section making his fat swell outwards on either side. It always looked like he was on the verge of bursting out of his clothes.

“Now it’s sexual assault! Am I going to have to perform a citizen’s arrest?”

At that point he swooped her up and plopped her onto the bed, taking his shirt off and following into the bed.

She remembered how long it had taken her to get him to relax about taking his shirt off in front of her. The first time she ever saw him shirtless was after they’d already had sex like three times. Back then, a few things surprised her about the way he had looked shirtless. For one, his man tits were far bigger than they had looked when he was clothed. The moment she saw them she just wanted to sink her face in them and play with them. They were so full and pert almost like woman’s breasts, they didn’t sag all the way to the side like so many other obese men’s did. Really it was only the size of his stomach that had prevented her from noticing them for that long, because in a shirt his big belly forced the fabric to skim over him chest. She was also treated to the look of his naked shoulders and arms. They looked firmer than she had expected, despite how puffy and rounded they were. His arms were covered in stretch marks, at the time she didn’t even know before that arms could even have stretch marks. His chin fat sat right on top of his chest area; she didn’t think there’d be that much contact between his skin there. There had been so much to look at, she was completely overwhelmed.

But fortunately for her, she’s gotten to look at his naked form again and again over the course of months, admiring all those same observations from the first time, as well as new ones as she’s gotten to see him in different lights and different positions, as he’s gained and lost and re-gained weight.

There was always something new to enjoy when it came to looking at Scott naked.

Unfortunately for her though, he was on another weight loss kick, and had been for the past few months. He’d been going on about it even more than usually recently, since it was the final week before they moved to Chicago for him to go to law school.

He’d made a goal of getting down to under 550 pounds before they moved. Even though it was a pretty unambitious goal, in fact his original goal had been to get under 500, but he’d revised after realizing he wouldn’t make it. Still she hadn’t expected him to get this far. He’d been hovering around 560 for the past two weeks but had been going especially hard for their final week living in Dallas.

Today was the day he was supposed to check back in again and weigh himself.
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Well-Known Member
Mar 29, 2020
Scene 1 Cont
When evening arrived, she watched as he nervously stepped on the scale.

He was silent for a moment, as she turned to her phone waiting to hear the results. She heard him gasp slightly. Hmm was that a happy gasp or an upset one? She couldn’t quite tell.

“Wow, fuck!” he said from across the room.

Was that a happy ‘wow fuck’ or an upset one?

“I made it!” he sputtered in excited disbelief.

She looked up from her phone, to see him facing slightly away from her in the scale corner, with a huge smile on his face.

“546! Ha! Can you believe it?”

In fact, she couldn’t believe it. She really didn’t think he’d make it with how inconsistently he’d been dieting over the past seven months. Starting at his highest ever weight of just under 590, it shouldn’t have taken him over seven months to lose forty pounds. But he could barely manage to properly control himself on a consistent basis.

“Oh my god that’s so awesome! I knew you’d make it!” she feigned enthusiasm, scrolling on her phone again. She didn’t love the whole intentional weight loss thing, though she understood it and supported it logically. At least she could still enjoy how far his standards had dropped. He was getting this excited about weighing close to 550 pounds, as if that was some impossibly low weight. That says it all really.

The smile on his face was so genuine and impressed with himself, normally she found it sweet when he looked like that. She didn’t know why it irked her today. He lumbered over to the bathroom to look in the mirror.

“Can you tell at all?” he said scrutinizing the reflection of his upper body, “I think I might look a bit smaller…like a little bit less…” he made some vague outwards gesture. She found it easier to tell when he’s gained or lost weight by looking not at his actual body, but at how he fit into the world around him. For instance, his car was a good marker. At 590 his belly had finally begun to firmly press into the steering wheel. No matter how he shifted himself, he was no longer able to get it not to touch. Only by virtue of how big his car was, was he able to avoid that happening for so long. She still ached to see it push a little further than that, for it to press heavily into the entire steering wheel, not just the bottom edge, till he had to suck in to even get the car to turn.

The same thing applied for most interior doorways. Just like at his heaviest, he still filled them to the point where he reflexively turned sideways to get through. And once he was just through the door, she couldn’t see all of him, because his belly stuck out further than the door edge and his thick lumpy upper back fat pushed out further than the door edge’s other side as well.

He walked back out of the bathroom to look at her, he opened his mouth to say something, then shut it. He sat down in the couch beside her, his wide fleshy ass seemed to melt into the chair, some of his side flab flopping on top of her. He looked at the ceiling his eyes a bit glazed over, then at her.

“Do you think they’ll be able to take me seriously now?” he said with an artificial lightness in his voice. As if he didn’t care and was just throwing the idea out there. But she knew he was getting more concerned by the day, about how the people at Northwestern would perceive him. Even before he’d heard back from any law school, he seemed worried about the possibility of having to be around ‘impressive’ people again, at his current enormous size.

He acted like it was because people like that were more judgmental.

He’d go on his spiel about how he’s grown up around these sorts all his life, and no one has ever given him as much shit about his weight as upper-class high achieving people. How being in those spaces made him think of himself as physically extreme and abnormal, before he even actually was. And that if he’d grown up where she did, he probably would’ve felt normal and average all this time, which ironically might’ve prevented him from ever losing control to this level. Whenever he’d say that stuff, she kinda wanted to burst his bubble and remind him that being a 300 pound 14-year-old, is actually genuinely pretty extreme, but she never said that.

Really, she suspected he was scared that with high achievers he’ll have nothing to one up them with in his head. After being with him this long, she knew how much he relied on being able to mentally one up people with something. Being able to think, eh so what if he’s nearly six-hundred pounds, at least he’s smarter/cooler/richer than whoever is judging him in that moment. At law school, that would likely no longer be true.

“Yeah, I think so.” She did not in fact think so. “And who cares if they don’t? You’ll be there for three years, they’re not the ones who have to give you a job.”

The implication there was that maybe he’d lose weight in the three years, but she really hoped he didn’t.
He leaned his head back into the chair, “Yeah…”

She rested herself against him, “You just have to do better than them. Force them to take you seriously.”

He scoffed and drew his head back slightly, “Easier said than done,” he said with more seriousness than she expected.

“Well I’m sure you’ll at least be on par with the rest of them.”

“Yeah sure,” he nodded skeptically, “But that’s beside the point. The issue is that average performance, in combination with how I look, gets interpreted as below average. Significantly below average, even.”

“I don’t think that’s totally true.”

“No, it’s a thing, definitely. It’s something I’ve observed over years, and that’s been well observed by other people too,” he’s doing that thing now where he’s so frustrated, he puts on his professional condescending voice to make his argument sound better.

“You’re psyching yourself out,” she exclaimed, he was talking to her as if she wasn’t on his side about this.

Abruptly he sits up straight, sending the rolls on his side, which her head was leaned on, into a violent jiggle. She turns her head to look at him, though her face is still level with the side of his upper body. As he pulls himself up, his man tits which were perched up high on his chest when he was leaned back, flop down against him, heavy and full, crashing into the top of his belly. Oh dear, he’s sitting up now, he must really have a point to make.

She cuts him off before he can speak, “Hang on, I’m not saying it’s all in your head. I’m sure people do react to you differently than they would if you were average sized, but why worry about it so early? You already know it’s gonna happen to some level, obsessing over it won’t help.”

“I’m hardly obsessing,” he mutters, “I’m not even complaining, really. You make it sound like I’m all ‘woe is me, I’m oppressed’ about it. But all I was doing was trying get your opinion on whether I’ve taken the edge off at all. Or whether I look pretty much the same.”

“Honestly?” she said nervously.

“Yes, honestly. Obviously.”

She proceeded cautiously, “I think…um…You look pretty much the same. I can only kinda sorta see a difference in that you fit in your car a little better. But other than that…I think you still look a bit bigger than when we first met.”

He looked at the floor, his face dejected. She bit her lip, regretting being so honest already.

After a moment, he took in a deep breath, “Okay… You’re probably right… But see this is where I think you’re wrong, and maybe it’s cause you see me every day now and you hadn’t before, or maybe you’re just trying to be negative and make me think I haven’t progressed, but I’m only twenty-something pounds heavier then I was when I met you. And that shouldn’t be noticeable at all, it isn’t enough to make a difference. So really, I should already be back to looking how I did then, you’re just not noticing it. Or pretending not to notice it, for whatever fucking reason.”

The contrast between what he was saying and how he looked was almost comical. There he was, this gigantic round blob of overflowing fat, with a disproportionally small head tacked straight onto his puffed-up shoulders, insisting he looked visibly smaller. She could’ve pointed out that if twenty pounds is too small to make a difference, then it should make sense to him that he’d look the same after losing forty pounds. But she couldn’t be bothered to press it.

She shrugged, “Yeah maybe it is because I see you every day now.”

He seemed pleased with her answer, “Exactly, you’ll probably not notice until I’ve lost over a hundred pounds or so. But that doesn’t mean other people who see me less frequently won’t notice sooner.” As he spoke, he settled again into a slumped back position, his flesh almost appearing to melt in with the couch.

It still fascinated her how much his shape seemed to change based on his positioning. When he was seated upright, gravity made him look much more rounded and balanced. The fact that his belly was able to sag between his legs, made it look a little bit less big. But leaned back like this, everything spread and softened. He looked shapeless, flat, and wide. As if his body were made of liquid or some sort of gel encased in skin. Basically, his body behaved like an underfilled water balloon.

Looking at him sitting like that, she knew he was right. The people at law school were going to judge him.
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Dimensions' loiterer
Sep 29, 2005
The great white north, eh?
a) I only just discovered that there were reactions beyond "like". Sorry for not having used Love on your story before
b) Now I want something beyond 'Love' for reactions, because I'm loving this start so hard!


Well-Known Member
Mar 29, 2020
Scene 2: The Fair

It still boggled Mia’s mind sometimes that they were actually moving to a new city together this coming Monday.

She hadn’t lived anywhere other than Dallas since she was five years old. And now she was moving. For a man, no less! Her mom always told her never to do anything like that, never to put your own life on the backburner to accommodate another person’s life trajectory. Unless you were married to them.

She had been looking for something fun to do, that she could invite everyone she cared about to for her last Saturday there. There wasn’t much everyone could agree on. She had to consider the interests and needs of nerdy friends, party club-goer friends, her 50-year-old mother, her rebellious teen mom little sister, her niece and smattering of little kid cousins, and perhaps the most restrictively, her morbidly obese boyfriend with semi-limited mobility. She also somewhat wanted to do something they wouldn’t have in Chicago. Finally, it occurred to her. They could go to the Texas State Fair!

That night, as they were lying in bed to go to sleep, she mentioned it to Scott.

She tried to sell it, put as much enthusiasm in her voice as she could, “We should go! It’s our last weekend here, we should do something specific to here!”

As she expected, he sounded unenthused, “It’s not really my thing.”

“Why not?”

“I dunno, isn’t it more for kids? What would we even do there?”

Normally, before they fell asleep, they laid close together, with Scott lying flat on his back and her straining to cuddle him, despite not being able to fully stretch her arm over his waist. As he said that, however, she let go of him.

“Um no, it isn’t for kids at all? They have roller coasters, kids can’t even go on most of them, and there’s like fair games and stuff, fair food, they fry weird things. Fairs aren’t for kids at all, haven’t you ever seen a rom com where they’ve like gone to the fair and the guy wins the girl some cute prize and it’s a whole thing? It’s sweet.”

“Yeah well you should go then. With your people, have a nice goodbye weekend. I don’t really need to be there, do I?”

She glared at him, though she knew he couldn’t see her, “I’d like you to be there.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll be around me enough when we move and I’m the only person you know.”

“But I want everyone I care about to be together! Why are you so difficult?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“I’m moving for you! I’m giving up my whole world, to continue to be with you, the least you can do is spend like five hours somewhere you find boring, because it’s important to me.”

He sighs loudly and shifts away from her.

She was beginning to get very frustrated, “Hey maybe you might even be able to fit in some of the rides, now that you’ve lost so much weight, yeah?” the words poured out of her before she’d thought through how awful it sounded.

He sounded tired yet unphased, “What, are you making fun of me now? For being excited that I lost weight? That’s great.”

She decided to play innocent, “No! I’m serious! I meant not just cause you lost weight, but cause it’s the Texas State Fair! I’d think they might be more accommodating on their rides then like six flags, like half the reason people go is for the fried food, so surely their rides would be a little more…inclusive.”

“They’re not,” he sounded very certain about that.

She was sputtering, unsure of what she could say that would be convincing, “Yeah …well... you don’t have to go on rides then. Not everyone will, you can just be there to hang out with my friends and family.”

“How enticing,” he mumbled.

“Is it cause you think you’ll have to walk around too much?”

Now he sounded irritated, “No, why do you keep making it about my weight? Not everything I say no to is about that. Sometimes I just find things uninteresting. Fairs are boring. That’s all there is to it.”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe cause you literally always make me go to everything by myself, because you’re in pain or it’ll be too much walking, or you don’t know what kind of furniture they’ll have.”

Without being able to see him, she could almost feel him rolling his eyes.

“Go cry about it then,” he muttered dismissively, rolling onto his side, away from her.

It had become a needling annoyance in their relationship. The list of fun things she couldn’t do anymore because Scott was too fat, was endless. That was the plain truth. So, for almost everything they got invited to, they went through this same argument. At first, they’d both been kinder about it. But now they’ve had time to build up an acclimation to each other, a comfort, a resentment.

She knew where this argument went from here too. There were a couple possibilities.

If she wanted him to go to whatever thing badly enough, she’d go grovel when she stopped being mad, till he got into his denial oh-I’m-still-perfectly-physically-capable state of mind and he’d say yes and regret it later when he got to wherever and found all the same challenges he knew would be there. Or they’d both stay mad and she’d get put off by the idea of having to go somewhere by herself, since she never was that socially competent, and they’d wind up both staying home.


The sun had set prematurely. Bright rainbow lights from every direction lit up the night sky into a dull starless gray.

The dizzying heat, the smell of sweat from hundreds of people melting together in mass, and the sound of Mia’s loud shrill family, was enough to make Scott fantasize about just calling an uber and leaving without saying anything. He couldn’t imagine how big of a fight it would cause though.

How stupid was it that she kept going on about the state fair being ‘unique’ to Dallas? Every goddamn state has a state fair and they’re all exactly the same boring fucking human zoo shitshow with nothing to do but wander around and scream at each other over all the noise.

Just generally he didn’t love going out with Mia’s friends and family, cause they all got so hyped and noisy when they were together. Plus, with Mia being all distracted by them, he didn’t really have anyone there to talk to.

Tonight, was especially annoying, because it required constant walking and they all walked so much faster than he could. Every so often, Mia would notice him and try to keep at his pace, to slow everyone else down, but most of the time she’d get too zoned out and return to her natural walking speed.

As they walked to the next ride, the rest of the group already several feet ahead of him, he watched them from afar as if they were strangers. How funny is it to think those people over there is his group that he came with? They were so dissimilar from the groups he normally went places with. This gaggle of tiny Dominican women, taking oodles of group photos every three seconds, so ridiculously hopped up to be at the goddamn fair of all places. These were his people? Really? How did he end up here?

The gap between them continued to widen. Really, he ought to be glad they kept taking group photos, otherwise they would’ve left him in the dust by now. As they continued to hustle ahead of him, he started to feel like he should remind Mia he was there and that it was physically impossible for him to walk at those speeds. Not for lack of trying, he was pushing himself as fast as he could, but his legs were simply too fat. There was too much flesh in the way, forcing his feet at a distance from each other that made him unable to do much more than a plodding swaying waddle. Plus, when he went too fast, he quickly felt he was running out of air, it gave him this horrible lung burning underwater feeling.

He took in a deep breath to prepare to call out to her. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to get her attention that easily. It was too loud and crowded there for his voice to travel.

As they walked away, he decided that even if he could get her attention easily, he couldn’t be bothered to. This is exactly what he wanted after all.

Finally, he could just do his own thing for a while and let them come find him when they were ready to go. Oh my god, he could even sit down for a while now, he was feeling relief just at the thought.

He noticed an area with seats very nearby, right by a set of food tents. Thank god.

As he reached closer, he discovered it wasn’t the ideal set up.

Scott hadn’t been able to sit normally on the park style benches with attached tables, in years. For a long time, he’d continued trying to anyways, sitting the normal way, with most of his ass hanging off the back and nothing to support him. But eventually, that didn’t work anymore, and he realized he had to sit facing backwards.

As he eased himself onto the bench, he found even that way of sitting was going to be a challenge for him now. The seat itself was far too narrow, only a small sliver of his butt was actually supported by the chair. Most of his weight had to be pressed into his legs still, as if he were doing a squat. The length of the seat also wasn’t great. He took up nearly the entire bench. And he could feel it beginning to slowly sink into the soft dirt below.

He silently cursed Mia in his brain, why did she make him come to this? She didn’t even need him there. She’s forgotten about him entirely by now.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed an extremely large middle-aged woman, speedily drive past him in a mobility scooter.

He raised his eyebrows, well didn’t she look like she was having a nice time.

The moment he saw her he felt a twinge of judgement. He didn’t know what exactly he was judging her for, it was as if he were still judging her for her size, despite that she was about as big as him. Or maybe he was judging her for using a scooter, because she was overweight not disabled due to some other thing. As far as he knew.

But at the same time another part of him was only thinking one thing: I wonder if they rent those out here?


Well-Known Member
Mar 29, 2020
Scene 2 Cont

“Jayden fell asleep, and we didn’t bring his stroller.”

“Come on, you can just carry him around! It’s fine you can stay longer!” she found herself negotiating with her mom and her sister trying to convince them to stay. They’d only been at the fair for two and a half hours. The two of them lived together still with her sister’s kid, so when one of them left both of them had to leave. And with three people gone, she wondered how much longer the hang would last.

“Sorry Mia! We’re gonna head out. Tell your boyfriend we said bye!”

She sighed, “Yeah okay, I will. Will I see you guys again before we leave?”

“Yeah we can have dinner together tomorrow,” her mom said quickly, as they began to walk away.

“Where did Scott disappear to anyways?” her friend Katie slid into their conversation.

Mia shook her head at the thought, “He got bored, so he ran off somewhere on his own, I guess. He texted me that we should just come get him when we’re done.”

“Oh,” Katie shrugged, “He must be even more bored sitting by himself for hours.”

“Yeah, you’d think. He’s very stubborn though, he’s just mad cause he didn’t want to come to this, and I pressured him about it.”

“Guess you can never please people! You’d think he’d be happy with all the fried foods they have here to try.”

Her eyes widened, “Hey!”

“What! I thought we were shit talking him cause you had a fight?”

“Not about that stuff. He’s my partner, you can’t shit talk him to my face.”

“I’m sure he can take it. He seems pretty thick skinned,” she said rolling her eyes at Mia’s outrage.

What remained of the group continued to wander around and ride roller coasters for the next hour.

They had just gotten off a ride, when Mia’s little cousin tapped on her shoulder, “Oh hey, we found your boyfriend,” he said.

She turned around to see where he was pointing. She could feel her entire body shrivel up and cringe in embarrassment at what she saw.

Scott was seated at the end of a table, in what looked like a super wide electric wheelchair, with several paper places of ambiguous fried foods placed in front of him. His girth overfilled the seat of the scooter, the sides of his belly seemed to pour out over the armrests.

He genuinely looked too fat for a mobility scooter, my god. Since his belly fat was covering the armrests, he had to rest his arms on top of himself, at least the one arm that wasn’t busy shoveling fried Oreos into his mouth. His shirt was covered in powdered sugar.

She counted five plates on the table in front of him. And as she stepped closer, she noticed he was also balancing a plate she hadn’t noticed on his stomach. Six plates covered in funnel cakes and other junk, and he was plowing through them with ravenous speed.

Once she got close enough, she saw the pleasure on his face. He was doing that thing where he closes his eyes because he’s enjoying his food so much. And softly moaning between bites. He was breathing heavily as well, and she could hear him hungrily chewing as he stuffed one fried morsel into his mouth after another. No wonder he was panting, he was giving himself no time to take a breath!

She could also see his pile of empty paper plates, stacked on top of each other. How much had he already eaten before these six plates of food? This was a fuck ton of food, even for him. It must be because he’s been dieting so hard, his willpower has run below empty.

It would’ve been incredibly arousing to see him stuffing himself in public, with such reckless abandon and the evidence (the mobility scooter) of how much damage his addiction to food has caused him in glaring view, had her whole family not been there.

She wouldn’t have stopped him immediately, if she’d been alone. She’d love to keep watching this display. But she couldn’t let her cousins and friends see him like this any longer.

“Scott,” she said quietly and aggressively, like a whisper grunt.

He looked up at her, his eyes wide with horror, “Oh shit.”

It was eerie to see him looking up at her, normally she saw him from a lower perspective, even when they were sitting down.

“Fuck, I didn’t think we’d run into each other,” in a scramble, he removed the plate from his gut and begins attempting to wipe off all the sugar from his clothes. He only winds up making his huge stomach wobble, as the sugar stays firmly stuck on his shirt and he continues to smack at it. All that jiggling must’ve made him a bit queasy, as he then pressed his hand back on his belly to force it to stop shaking. He rushed to stand up.

She glanced behind her, the others had stopped a respectful distance away from them and hopefully couldn’t hear them talk. They were talking amongst themselves, trying to pretend they hadn’t noticed this humiliating display.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she says through gritted teeth.

He raises his arms up, like he’s not sure where to begin, “I- uh. Hmm. Well. You guys left me. Cause ya’ll wouldn’t quit fuckin’ power walking. And so, I had nothing to do. So… I was very bored. And… all this shit was being advertised in my face…and there was nothing else to do so I guess I just wanted to try some it. And I got carried away. There were so many people here, I didn't think anyone would see me.” He said all of this very fast and kept shifting his gaze between her and her family.

“But- why are you in a wheelchair??” she sputtered.

He scratched the back of his head guiltily, and looked at the floor, “Oh right. That. Well… the seating here wasn’t great. And I saw someone drive past in one, so I just though, oh that looks like it’d be worth it. For me to use. Cause I can’t exactly stand or sit in chairs I don’t fit into for the next however the fuck long you guys are gonna take here.”

She looked down at the wheelchair, the vision of him sitting in it seared into her brain. Now that she had a moment to process it, she felt incredibly unsettled by it. He had looked so vulnerable and… just tragic sitting in that chair. She hated the sight of it. It made her almost feel nauseous.

“I’m so sorry we left you,” she said her mood rapidly flitting from embarrassment to a nervous sadness, “I didn’t realize… you didn’t say anything! I thought you were with us, then you were just gone, and you’d been so pissed at me before, I just assumed you felt like walking off.”

He seemed to recognize her mood shift, and switching into the mode of comforting her, “Hey it’s okay. I’m fine,” he pulled her into him and patted the back of her head, “…I don’t actually need a wheelchair, you know that right?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, sinking her face into the endless softness of his body.

“I’ll just return go it, and we can stay a bit longer yeah?”

“Okay,” she said still hugging him.

He stiffened, as if her were about to speak, but stopped himself.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing… Just that, I mean since I already rented it, if I were to just keep it while we’re here, I would be able to keep up with you guys a lot easier.”

She felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she drew back from the hug to look up at him, “Are you…?” losing the ability to walk, she mentally finished her sentence.

She couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. After all, he was losing weight! Things should be improving for him. And here she was, just the other day still be fantasizing about him gaining more weight and stopping his efforts to lose. She was so naive...

“Am I what?”

“Are you… not ready to go? My mom and Estefani already left, so I think maybe we should kill it.”

He laughed quickly, “Fuck yeah, of course I am! I’ve been ready to go since we got here! I thought you’d never ask.”

They told the rest of the group they were ready to leave. She knew they were probably curious about what exactly they’d talked about, and she hoped they wouldn’t think about it too hard or remember the sight of Scott cramming his face with a mountain of fried food, in a mobility scooter. It wasn’t the final weekend in town of her dreams, that’s for sure.

But for some reason, it did make her feel ready for a new start.
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Well-Known Member
Mar 29, 2020
Scene 3: Nighttime Highway

It was their second road trip together. And it was a whole lot longer than their first one, the drive to Chicago was 15 hours total and they intended to do it in one go, swapping driver duties so the other could sleep in between.

They were about three hours away now. Scott was driving and Mia was snoring beside him, her phone still plugged into the aux cord softly playing music and the GPS.

It was 4 in the morning and no one was left on the highway except for them and fleets of truckers. In the pitch-black darkness, they were winding down the two-lane country road, littered with construction sites every few miles. It wasn’t the most geographically diverse drive. Turns out the middle of America looks mostly the same as itself. From Texas to Illinois, there was nothing but barely rolling hills and bright green summer tree forests. It made him kind of miss the route to California he made several times during his undergrad.

Scott never imagined he would get into Northwestern. That was the type of school more in vein with what he’d been aiming for the first time he tried to go to law school. But he went for it anyways because of their emphasis on international human rights law.

He was oddly embarrassed to tell people in person what kind of work he’d decided he was interested in doing. On its face it sounded a bit too lofty, a bit too do-gooder. It made him sound like he was this naïve bleeding heart, let’s change the world sort of person.

But he couldn’t help but choose that as his interest. It was interesting. He could read academic papers about topics in that area without feeling bored. And at the time, he figured that was the most important thing. Genuine curiosity.

In the last few weeks he’d been reading up quite a bit about what the experience of being in law school was like. It sounded kinda terrifying. He wished he hadn’t spent the past two years doing minimal work and under minimal time constraint, getting back into being busy would be a major transition to him. He’d gotten used to being mentally lazy.

He wondered what sort of backgrounds the other people in his cohort would be coming from. Mainly he imagined the worst. They’ll all be either academic wunderkinds, straight out of undergrad from Yale and fancy places like that, or they’ll be transitioning from some other impressive go-getter career after having decided they wanted something more fulfilling.

And then there’d be him.

He could see it now.

His first day of law school. Stepping into a fancy room looking like some crusty fucker straight off the front of that People of Walmart website, they’d probably all stare at him, wondering how he got there. They’d ask him about his background, and he’d have to say, “Ah why yes, I’ve spent the past two years doing fuck all, and before that I want to a state school with a 45% acceptance rate.”

Thinking too much about it made him want to make a U-turn and go back home.

It wasn’t too late to just give in and be a low achiever. He could have a nice life being mediocre. All he had to do was cut off everyone he knew in the past, so they wouldn’t see his shameful decline. Cut off his parents, especially. He could just spend all his time with Mia’s friends and family, they had zero expectations of him. They were all low achievers really. He could mesh into that comfy little world, settle into something new.

He could change his name. Maybe marry Mia and take her last name. Pretend it was in the interest of gender wokeness rather than trying to kill his old identity.

Scott Alfaro. Or he could go by his middle name even.

Patrick Alfaro.

Yeah, he’d be a totally new guy with that name. Never mind the cultural mismatch.

He was giving himself a headache.

Suddenly it occurred to him that he ought to be taking advantage of the fact that Mia was deeply, mouth hanging open asleep. Ever since she saw him in that mobility scooter on Saturday, she’d been in a new phase of trying to help him lose weight.

It was wildly fucking tiresome. She even insisted on packing meals for this road trip and wouldn’t let him stop to get any snacks of fast food. He might even prefer her when she’s in her horny fetish mode of trying to coax him into eating more.

But really what would be ideal is if she would just lay off, and never mention his weight or his eating habits again. Not in either direction. If she could just ignore it completely, it would prevent at least 30% of their arguments. But he knew that wasn’t realistic. His weight impacted too many things about his day to day life, for her to be able to completely ignore it.

He tried to drive as smoothly and quietly as possible as he exited the highway to stop at the first restaurant he saw. An Arby’s, it wasn’t his favorite, but he honestly didn’t care. He needed to seize this opportunity before she woke up.After all, he was on a road trip right now. It wasn't the time to worry about staying on his diet. He'd already achieved his goal weight, now he can chill til he settles into Chicago and sets a new goal weight. It's break time now.

It was going to be difficult to eat with one hand while driving smoothly enough not to wake her. And to eat silently. It’d probably be best not to order too much food, so he’d be able to pull it off and discard the evidence before she woke.

He pulled up to the drive through. In his quietest voice he said, “Hi, can I get the Smokehouse Brisket sandwich, the Reuben, and a-”

“Can you repeat that?” the loud abrasive speaker screeched, the feedback shredding his eardrums.

Panicked he looked to Mia. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake.

In a slightly louder voice, he repeated the beginning of his order, “and large curly fries, an apple turnover, and some jalapeño bites. And a large chocolate shake,” he crossed his fingers hoping they understood, and he could go already. He would the window up till there was barely a crack open so their response wouldn’t be too loud.

“Alright that’ll be $24.88, please move to the next window.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. Part one finished, and she was still sound asleep.

Once he was back on the highway he began to eat. Normally, he was able to eat very quickly, but now that he had a reason to, he was on turbo drive. Opening his mouth as far as he could go, he was taking massive bites of the sandwich. Briefly, he wondered if it defeated the purpose of being able to enjoy the food he bought, if he had to wolf it down that quickly and with that much time pressure. It was too late to change his mind now though.

In an impressive time of ten minutes, he’d eaten everything he’d ordered. Annoyingly, he didn’t feel that full, he could definitely go for some more food. But he wasn’t going to try his luck. He wound down his window and tossed out the bags and wrappers onto the road.

He felt a twinge of guilt as he went to throw out his milkshake cup.

Yeah, yeah, yeah it’s bad, it’s pollution, what the fuck ever, the Earth is dying anyways, what’s this minor contribution to dirtying a highway gonna do, he thought.

He couldn’t risk taking the time to drive off the highway again to find a trash can. And he couldn’t risk leaving the evidence of his eating in the car trash bag they had either. She’d give him too much shit for it, then she’d get all depressed, and tell him he was killing himself slowly or whatever annoying thing she felt like saying. He couldn’t wait till she got over this phase and went back into her fetishy mindset again.
Apr 8, 2020
United States
Yes!!! I am so happy this story continues. Acid orchids was one of my all time favorite stories. Thank you so much for continuing, I look forward to seeing what comes from this story. On one side I want Scott to eat with abandon and on the other I have the same feelings that Mia has from time to time. Thank you for writing this part in your stories, it makes them feel so real!!


Well-Known Member
Mar 29, 2020
Scene 4: CTA

Always be offensive.

Meaning, always be on the offense, don’t spend any time defending yourself. The more time spent explaining yourself, the more time everyone else spends thinking about you. And you never want to be the topic of conversation for very long.

Always deflect. Put the attention on whoever you’re arguing with. Respond to criticism with your own criticism about them. Respond to jokes with your own jokes about them.

And for any of this to work? You have to always be prepared. More prepared than your opponent. Mia was on the right track, when she’d said to him that he just needed to be better than everyone else in his cohort. He agreed. It synced up very well with his personal philosophy. But one thing she didn’t add, was that if you can’t guarantee that you’ll be better than the person you’re about to interact with, at the very least, you have to make sure you’re better prepared and ready to always be offensive.
This strategy had served him well for most of his life.

It was something his dad had taught him, when he was around nine years old. He was being hassled by some other kids, he couldn’t remember now what for, and he’d responded by punching out the main one bothering him. When he’d gotten in trouble and his parents had been called to the school, he had been so nervous they’d freak out at him. But instead his dad had congratulated him and told him he was on the right track, but he had to be a bit more clever about it.

Don’t worry about spending time countering whatever people might say about you. You won’t convince them of anything, all you’ll do is make yourself sound guilty at worst and at best you’ll make everyone else around spend more time thinking about what the person had said about you. You’ll be allowing everyone to dwell on their words. Giving them credibility. Punching that kid out was the right path, if only because it forced all the attention on the other guy. Now he was the weak one, now he was the one who needed to defend himself. Next time do that with words. Figure out what’s wrong with them and lean into it.

Whether it was because it fit so neatly with his own personality and natural tendencies, or whether it was because of how much he used to look up to his dad at that age, the words stuck, and he’d taken that approach in many contexts. He’d riffed on it a bit, given it his own spin. He’d come to learn what behaviors made that strategy work well and what made it flop.

When it comes to being prepared, that has meant different things in different contexts. It could mean carefully observing the people around him, figuring out their flaws before he ever gets into any confrontation with them. It’s also meant boosting his own credibility in targeted directions, whatever he imagined people might potentially believe about him, he worked hard to counter that as early as possible.

Right now it meant spending his first week in Chicago, staying inside doing as much reading in advance as he possibly could. One thing that was unique about law school, is how much they use cold calling in class. Meaning, even on the very first day of class, they would call on students to answer questions, giving ample opportunity for judgement and public humiliation if you come off unprepared or sound like an idiot when you answer. It was probably a good thing, in that few things motivated him to focus more than aiming to control people’s perception of him.

The first class he would go to was Comparative Law, which was basically an overarching survey of the differences in legal systems across different countries. It was a very broad topic, so he was curious how they’d manage to pack so much information into a single semester. As he worked through reading books and papers that were on the syllabus, both for next week and a couple weeks ahead, his appreciation for having majored in economics as an undergrad grew. He was somewhat familiar with a lot more than he imagined he’d be. And the reading he’d done over the past few months that he’d been waiting to move, also helped quite a bit.

“Why don’t you take a break from this now? I want to do some touristy stuff.”

He looked up from his laptop. Mia had walked out of the bedroom to the makeshift office (really just a desk in a corner) he’d set up in the living room. She was wearing the same pajamas she’d been in for the past two days, skintight bicycle shorts and a thin green nipple baring camisole. So in other words, she looked sexy, yet quite greasy and unwashed.

“Don’t you have your own work to do,” he said as more of a statement than a question. She was supposed to be applying to jobs here too.

She rolled her eyes, “No, not so much that I can’t go see the Bean or something.”

“Go ahead then! I’m not stopping you.”

She sank her hands into his shoulders and got right in front of his face, “Haven’t you heard that your brain needs breaks to properly absorb information?”

Her furrowed brows and overly serious expression looked very cute to him right then for some reason.

He cupped her face in his hands and pulled her forwards to give her a quick kiss.

“Fine, we can go look around for a bit. Go shower though please,” he said.

“Fuck you!” she laughed walking away, “I have impeccable hygiene,” her voice getting quieter as she returned to the bedroom to get ready.

When she returned, fully dressed, she said, “Wanna try going on the train? I’ve never been on one before. Or like any public transportation really.”

“Really? I have.”


He shrugged, “On like vacations, I guess. Paris, New York, Budapest. They’re not that exciting really, just dirty and crowded and way slower than cars.”

“Oh so you should be an expert then!”

He laughed, “Well I don’t know about all that. That was all when I was a kid, like when my parents were still together. The last time I ever went to Europe was when I was like…twelve-ish thirteen?”

“Oh! So, it’ll be more like a first time for both of us then,” she slipped on her shoes and they began to walk out the door.


Well-Known Member
Mar 29, 2020
Scene 4 Cont.

Scott fiddled with the map on his phone, “Okay there’s a train station a little under half a mile from here, then we’re gonna go south for like six stops. Then we’ll be there. Downtown.”

By the time they got to the station, Scott was already exhausted.

“Aright, we’ve had our break. We can go home now,” he joked weakly between gasps for air.

Mia looked worried, “Let’s sit down for a bit,” she found a bench just outside the station. Scott staggered towards it, and dropped himself in. He took up so much of the bench, she was barely able to squeeze into it beside him.

“I think we should stick with driving, in the future,” he groaned, “Public transportation is for people without cars.”

“We haven’t even walked that far though,” she said quietly.

Truthfully, he agreed with her. He could recognize logically that half a mile wasn’t very far, despite his entire body’s vehement protest to the contrary.

“I know,” he said matching her somber tone, “I guess I’m deteriorating,” he wasn’t even sure if he was being sarcastic or sincere. He was beginning to catch his breath though.

Leaning his arms against his knees, he heaved himself back into a standing position, “Okay, let’s go.”
They walked into the busy station. People were speeding in all directions, coming down and up the stairs, bustling through the turnstiles. Oh god the turnstiles, Scott stared at them. They were incredibly narrow. Maybe it was going to be physically impossible for him to even get onto the train. For him to get to the platform even.

Mia picked up on where he was looking, “Look, there’s a handicapped one too, you can use that,” she said in an optimistic tone.

Ugh handicapped, he was beginning to feel uncomfortable with how often that word was applying to things he needed to use. Even that looked like it’d be a tight squeeze for him.

He swiped the card they just bought and walked through the handicapped turnstile. It was tight enough that both sides lightly brushed against him, “Ugh why the fuck do they make these so small. What possible benefit is there,” he mumbled to no one in particular.

Now he looked towards the escalator to the south platform. It was the tiniest narrowest escalator he’d ever seen in his life. Each person on it was standing in a row, as it was impossible for two people, even two children, to stand beside each other.

He looked to Mia, “Is that not fucking insane? I swear, there are probably thin people that wouldn’t be able to fit on that escalator.”

She winced, “Well I wouldn’t go that far, but yeah… That is…crazy. It’s like they’re doing it on purpose.”

A scratchy husky voice interrupted them, “There’s an elevator in the back,” a CTA worker said walking past.

Okay, he breathed a sigh of relief, one more hurdle down, in this irritating train excursion.

Finally, they stood at the platform, looking out into the city. He could faintly see the downtown skyline from there. The architecture was so different from Dallas, all the apartments were made from the same worn brick, varying only in color. There seemed to be three varieties, pale beige, dark red, and warm brown. It was clear, this was the older city. The trees had already begun to change color, which surprised him. It still felt like late summer back home, but here it was already autumn.

“An inbound train for the Loop, will be arriving shortly,” the speaker announced in a robotic woman Siri type voice.

The train whooshed past at a face melting speed, before abruptly coming to a stop.

“Man how crazy is it that there’s no barrier?” Mia said.

“Yeah, I know. That’s how most places are though.”

They stepped onto the train. Much to his dismay, he realized it was pretty full and the seats were incredibly small. He would definitely need two seats.

He scanned the train car for any two seats place together. As it turned out, the only empty pair had a pole in between them. He was going to have to stand.

Mia seemed to have the same realization, she looked up at him sadly, “Are you good? Can you stand for that long?”

He glared at her. He hated it when she got this way and started talking to him as if he was this non-functional mess who needed a caretaker, “Yeah, it’s fine,” he said brusquely.

“Should I ask that guy to move,” she pointed towards the person sitting beside one of the chairs by the pole. If he moved to the chair on the other side of the pole, Scott would be able to sit down.

“Absolutely the fuck not!” He grunted at her quietly, “God, it’s like you’re trying to humiliate me.”

She didn’t respond.

Eventually, they got to a popular stop where a flock of people got off the train. Finally.

Scott went to sit down, the plastic seats hard against his back. He completely filled both seats, he realized. He didn’t think he’d take up so much room, he imagined he’d just spill over into the second seat, not completely cover it. The slight rise between the seats was cutting into his thigh. And he could feel the cold edge of the seat pressing into the skin on his lower belly, as it hung between his legs. Was his shirt riding up? Ugh he did not need these people seeing all that.

In that moment, he felt massive. He looked down at himself, and as always, all he could see was the slope and vast expanse of his big belly. Everything below was covered by it. He thought about how the other people on the train were seeing him. This whole public transportation thing was far too public really. It was one thing to feel uncomfortable about his immense size when he was alone, it was a whole nother thing to have that feeling when a bunch of random people were looking at him.

And they were looking.

He tried to look out the window to avoid noticing, but he could feel their eyes on him. Hadn’t they ever fucking seen a fat person before? He wasn’t that novel. That really was the worst thing about his weight, he thought, how uncommon it was. If there were loads of other 500-pound men running around, he probably wouldn’t mind as much. He hated being the biggest person in almost every room he went into. He didn’t want to be in the extreme at anything really, he wanted to go unnoticed.


She was zoned out in the seat beside him. It was weirdly difficult for him to turn and look at her, from the position he was in. He wasn’t quite sure why.


“I’m never letting you talk me into going on the train again.”


Well-Known Member
Mar 29, 2020
Scene 5: Festivals

Downtown Chicago was like nowhere she’d ever been.

She’d been around loads of skyscrapers and city vibes before, sure, but this felt more like New York. The fact that people were walking everywhere alone, gave it an entirely fresh feel. The bustle, the sounds the smells, she felt like she was on Sex in the City or something.

The only thing bringing her down, was how miserable Scott still was.

It was crazy to her how much their roles had switched from when they first met. He used to be the busy body one. She’d almost forgotten, how when they met she’d even been nervous that if she hung out with him, she wouldn’t be able to keep up with his lifestyle. She remembered the first time she’d found him on Facebook, being amazed at how socially active he was. Way more so than any of her friends even. It seemed he’d be the type to want to go out constantly.

And yet, now that she was with him, she found herself being the one who was pushing for them to go places most of the time. It seemed he was perfectly content the hermit life.

She didn’t understand what had happened.

After all, he’d been extremely fat back then when he was a party guy too, but back then it didn’t seem to affect him much. Maybe it was just a matter of time, staying that size, and even getting bigger rapidly, had worn him down, broken him slowly. It made her wish she’d met him when he was like 19 or so. She wondered what he would’ve been like. Did he seem like the same person back then? She couldn’t fully imagine her version of Scott being the same as the person she saw in those old photos of him.

The gaps between traffic lights were so wide downtown. Every time they reached the middle of one, she feared Scott was walking way too slow to make it before time ran out. So, at the end of each crosswalk he had to do a little run thing. His run wasn’t even that much quicker than his walk.

When they reached the bean, they wandered around looking at all the sculptures and art installations.

After about only fifteen minutes, he asked her if she was ready to leave.

“We haven’t seen everything yet though,” she said.

“Okay,” he sighed loudly.

They walked past a twenty-foot-tall rectangle with faces projected onto it. It sprayed water through the mouth for the projection into a fountain in between the two faces.

Scott looked at her, “You want a photo don’t you...”

She grinned at him, “Yes, you read my mind.”

“I really like the vibe here,” she said after they’d begun wandering again.

“Yeah? That’s good. It’d suck if you hated it,” he said.

“Do you?”

He shrugged, “It’s far too early to say. I mean it’s fine, looks like anywhere. I’d have to meet some people and see how they are to decide.”

Now that he was putting some slight effort into cooperating and allowing her to enjoy herself, she decided to return the favor by suggesting they leave soon.

“We should get dinner downtown, then head back.”


Well-Known Member
Mar 29, 2020
Scene 5 Cont

As they sat, waiting to order their first deep dish pizza, she tried to guide to conversation to Scott’s college days. She didn’t know that much about them. He told her some stories, but she wanted to know how he felt about them now.

She wanted to answer her question, was that party busy body side of him still somewhere in there? Or had he been irreversibly transformed by time into this curmudgeonly guy who never wanted to go anywhere?

“We should go to some of the music festivals they have here,” she said testing him.

He looked surprised, “Yeah! They have a couple big ones, I think. Depends on if we meet enough people here that we like that are down to go.”

“Does it?”

He nodded, “Yeah, for sure.”

She squinted at him, “Why couldn’t we just go together, by ourselves? I’ve never really been to a big music festival. Not an overnight one anyway.”

“Just cause it’s more fun in a group. I’ve been to a bunch of festivals, there are some people who go alone, but I dunno. It seems like it’d be a lot harder to have a good time. People who go alone normally wind up joining up with bigger groups of people and hanging out with them the whole time.”

At the end of his sentence he laughed and got this faraway look in his eyes.


He continued grinning, “Nothing, I just thought of this ridiculous story that happened once.”

“Tell me!”

He leans into the table slightly, “Aright, so we were going to Coachella, it was a big group of us. And my friend was dating this, genuinely fucking insane girl at the time. And I’m not saying that just like to be an asshole or whatever or to exaggerate, she was truly very strange.”

Her plan was already working. Just in beginning this story, he seemed to shift back into a different headspace, a lighter yet also more bro-ish headspace, than she’d seen him in in months.

“And she’d been acting kinda weird the whole drive there, cause they’d come with me in my car, it’s pretty far, like a road trip level distance from where we were, but I didn’t think anything of it cause, as I said, she was very fucking odd just generally right. Anyways, we get there, we go in, it’s all good, nothing’s wrong. The security guards let us in fine, no issues. But when we get to our camp and get everything set up, she pulls me and my friend, like the friend she was dating aside, and I don’t know why she included me in this, and tells us that she snuck in half an ounce of cocaine, and this is the kicker, up her pussy.”

Mia gasps, “Oh my god that’s ridiculous!”

His smile grows slightly, “Yeah I know. But she doesn’t tell this to us, like she’s proud or happy about it, or like she has the situation under control at all. She starts full on fuckin’ crying, as she’s telling us. And I’m like 18 years old at the time and kind of a fucking idiot with no sense of how much that is, so I’m just like ‘Oh my god, you did all that for us?’ just totally impressed thinking she was just taking one for the team.”

“Was she not?”

“No! Turns out, the reason she told the two of us, is because she’s trying to sell it for a ridiculously inflated price to the people at the festival. But she felt overwhelmed by her plan, so she was asking me and my friend to basically sell it for her, because she got too scared to do it herself.”

Mia stared at him, “Wow.”

“Yeah! And so, we did just me and him, we like running around all through Coachella, coming up with all these silly dumb ways of discretely offering it to people, and everyone who bought from us would then offer to let us do some with them. And imagine all this happening while everyone is wearing like goofy dramatic hippie music festival outfits, and it’s like 2011 so fuckin’ Kings of Leon or some shit is playing live in the background this entire time. And again I was kind of an idiot still, so I pretty much did it with every person we sold to, and man,” he looks nostalgic again, “I realize this story isn’t sounding very funny the way I’m telling it, but let me tell you. It was the craziest fucking night I ever had for a while. And a lot of funny stuff happened during it. It was wild, I guess you’d just have to have been there.”

“I wish I could’ve,” she says looking into his eyes.

He snorts, “Do you though?”

And she thinks about it for a moment, “Actually nope no I really don’t. That would’ve been terrifying. And I really have zero interest in doing cocaine. God I would’ve been freaking out! Yeah, you’re way less risk averse than me. You’re an actual crazy person.”

He laughs, “Well not anymore I’m not.”

The waiter approaches them, “Have you decide on your order?”

Mia answers before he can speak, “Ah yes, we’d like to do a small deep-dish meat lovers.”

Scott looks at her alarmed, then looks to the waiter, “Ah sorry about that, she actually meant a large.”

Mia smiles at the waiter, “No put down a small please.”

The waiter looks confused, “A small is the recommended size for two people to share. Deep dish pizzas are much more dense than standard ones, you’ll see.”

“Is it now,” Scott mumbles sounding mildly annoyed, “Aright, yeah that’s fine.”

When the waiter walks away, he squints at Mia in exaggerated annoyance, “A small. Really? I’m on a diet, not dead!”

“You don’t need all that! Do you know how big a large deep-dish pizza is? And I’m sure you’d probably end up finishing all of it.”

“Yeah, I probably would, and I’d really enjoy doing so. That’s the whole point.”

She took a sip of her water to calm herself, “Never mind, I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Yes, please, let’s never talk about this stuff anymore,” he agreed.

They were silent for a moment as she thought about how to transition back into their previous conversation.

“Do you miss doing stuff like that?”

He laughed, “Like what, like selling cocaine??”

No, you know what I mean. Like going out all the time, like you used to. You don’t party anymore.”

He shrugged as if she were being weird, “Well we’re in our mid-twenties now. Nobody parties like that anymore.”

“That isn’t true at all.”

“I mean sure, I guess some people do still party like that still. But I think only people who are on the verge of developing an actual drug problem. Out of my friends at least. The only ones who still party every weekend are borderline addicts in some way.”

“So it’s not cause you’re… like old and haggard and depressed now or something?” she exaggerated the question to prevent him from getting bothered by it.

“Nah… I don’t think I partied all the time for great reasons anyway. Mainly, I just liked the distraction, I guess. Like I don’t think it was because I was…like living my best life or something like you’re making it sound. I’m probably better off now than I was then.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah I think so. Well, maybe a bit. I dunno. I was probably fine then and now. But either way I don’t think then was necessarily better than now.”

She twirled her straw in her cup absent-mindedly, “Well I still think we should go to some festivals here.” She looked from her cup to him.

He nodded, “Yeah we can. Go make some friends here then… And I’ll try to do the same. But I don’t know if Northwestern law is full of party people. It might be. We’ll have to find out what the vibe is there socially. I can imagine it going both ways.”

“Yeah it’s a blank slate.”

He sighed, “Yeah… For the next two days it is at least.”


Well-Known Member
Mar 29, 2020
Scene 6: Day One

As he tugged the handle, he found the door was unlocked.

Yes, he gave a mental fist bump. He’d gotten to the room of his first class over twenty minutes early, because he wanted to scope out the seating and get his back-up plan set up if necessary. As he walked in, the lights turned on, their whirring electric sound breaking the dead silence. Without the lights, the room had already been well lit by the large windows, with a view of both the other skyscrapers and (if you found just the right angle) Lake Michigan.

The room was laid out on a slope, each row one step higher than the next. Long curved tables stretched the length of each row, with office style chairs positioned behind them. As he looked at the chairs, he realized his back-up plan would in fact be necessary. He was incredibly grateful he’d thought of it in time.

He walked to the back table, the highest part of the room, making his way to the back corner. The spot in which no one would have to move past him to get to their seat and pulled out his fold-out camping chair, rated to hold 600 pounds. With his position in the back of the room and the way he knew his body would pretty much completely cover the chair (at least when looking at him from the front) no one would be the wiser that he wasn’t using a normal chair. Really, he should’ve thought of this idea years ago, it would’ve saved him a lot of stress.

Gradually the rest of the class began to fill the room. As he imagined, there wasn’t a great deal of variety in the look of the other students. They were mostly white, maybe around 85% of them at least. He guessed the bulk of them were straight from undergrad but realized he likely wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a 22-year-old and a 28 or so year old by a glance. The gender distribution was close to an even fifty-fifty. They were all uniformly thin and posh looking.

The professor was seated at the front of the room, adjusting things on his computer. He looked surprisingly young, with silver wire rimmed glasses and massive dark eyebrows. It made Scott think of one of those cartoony disguises, as if his eyebrows were attached to the glasses. He stood and walked to the center of the room.

“Welcome to Comparative Law, and for some of you, welcome to Northwestern! How many of you are in your first year here?”

About half the class raised their hands.

“Okay, great. And for how many of you is this your first class?”

Around two thirds of that half raised their hands again.

“Ah I’m sure you’re all very excited. A bit nervous perhaps? Well I’m pleased to be your first introduction to our program. I’m Dr. Filipovic, you can call me Dr. Phil.”

The class laughs.

“Just kidding, you are absolutely not under any circumstances allowed to call me that.”

The class laughs again.

“So, to launch right into things, the scope of this class will cover foreign law, specifically within the context of US lawyers in international business or arbitration. We will discuss questions such as to what extent should US courts rely on foreign law in adjudication? How much and what kind of authority does foreign law have in the United States? How can we optimize our understanding of laws in culturally dissimilar nations, and really to what extent is it even possible to form meaningful interpretations of foreign laws that can apply in these intersections in which US businesses or residents are dealing in international spaces? You might have noticed already, the ways in which some of these ideas are relevant in our case reading for today. Harry Berggren, can you give us an overview of our case reading?”

Damn the cold calling thing really begins almost immediately, Scott thought nervously. Sucks to be Harry Berggren right now.

Though as the guy began to give his response, Scott realized he probably would’ve been alright in answering this. Providing an overview might be one of the easiest things you could be asked to do really, you don’t have to give any opinion and interpretation any thought. Just plain regurgitation of information.

The case they’d been told to read was about a US company which had acquired 94% of a Slovakian company but did not receive voting control of the company, which was supposed to be included in the deal. So, in other words, despite near complete ownership, they lacked the level of control they intended in their purchase. As a result, they sued the law firm which had facilitated the acquisition, for inadequately translating and explaining the Slovak law documents, leading to the incompleteness of the acquisition. The company won this negligence claim and were payed off by the law firm.

“Great breakdown Harry. One thing that was left out, that is necessary to mention for us to begin our discussion, can someone tell us why it was that they sued the US law from rather than the Slovak law firm who also facilitated this deal and was directly responsible for translating Slovak law to Bancroft? Hmmm,” he looked at his sheet of names, “Scott Pafford?”

Oh shit oh shit oh shit, he froze.

“Ahh, wasn’t it because…” he remembered reading this bit, but the information wasn’t drawing to mind.

The professor made a tutting noise, “Thought we’d spend the first day going over the syllabus and not getting into real discussions, did we? This isn’t undergrad folks. Okay, how about someone else, Amal Avdhesh?”

“Under Slovak law, lawyers are sole practitioners and thus firms have no liability.”

Fuck, he knew that! If he’d just been given like a second to think, he would’ve remembered, but this guy was so ready to chastise someone, he didn’t give him a moment to let his brain adjust to the surprise of being called.

“Exactly, and that is a key example of how some of these international differences can come into play,” the professor continued to speak.


The rest of class went uneventfully. The discussion and lecture were interesting enough. There were several moments were Scott thought of some good point to make, but he never got called on again. It irritated him beyond belief, if he’d only been called on deeper into the class, he probably would’ve been fine cause he’d be into the right mode by then.

The rest of the class had slowly begun to pour out of the room. Annoyingly, he had to leave after everyone else was gone, so they wouldn’t see him folding up his secret chair. He’d been ready to go from the minute class had ended, and all these people were taking a hundred years to leave. It must’ve looked like he had another class coming up in that room or something.

Finally, he was able to leave the room. He had another class in two hours, so he was just going to hang around the area to kill time. He walked into the elevator, another person from his class reached the elevator just ahead of him. She pressed the button for the ground floor.

As the door closed, she looked at him, “Hey man, sorry I stole your thunder,” she said, her voice higher pitched than he expected from looking at her.

She fit the profile of the average student there even less than he did. She looked on the older side, he guessed she must be in her thirties at least. Her clothes were excessively casual, everyone there had been casually dressed for the most part, but she was dressed like she was going to the gym. And not in the glamorous way, more in the old worn shirt you got for free ten years ago type way. She was a little overweight, with really big breasts, the kind you had to work hard not to notice. And she looked to be Indian or South Asian. Far south Asian he guessed, from the dark rich color of her skin.

At first, he didn’t get what she meant, then he put two and two together. She was the one who had answered the question he flubbed!

He shrugged, “Oh don’t worry about that. It’s not your fault my brain doesn’t work under pressure,” did that sound like he was joking? He was aiming to sound like he was joking.

“You’re in your first year, right?”

“Yeah, first year, first day. First class even.”

“Oooh you’re just a baby!”

What does one say to something like that?? The only thought coming to his head right now was ‘yeah I need a mommy’ which made him cringe violently, even when it was just in his head.

“Ha… yeah,” he said. Very eloquent.

The elevator reached the ground floor.

“Well do you know about the mixer later?”

He did not. “No, what mixer?”

She sighed giving him a ‘oh you poor thing’ look, “You’ve got to go to events you know, that’s how you meet people and build connections! They have a happy hour mixer for the beginning of each quarter, it’s lovely, lots of smart people to flirt with. You should come!”

“Where is it?”

“Roof on the wit! Starts at 4,” she started to walk away, now that they’d reached downstairs.

“Okay! Well I’ll see you there then,” he said loudly as she walked off.

Facing away from him as she walked, she gave him a peace sign and disappeared through the front door.

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