You'd always been lean and tall, which was fine when you were a little kid. As you aged and hit puberty, though, and you didn't develop... anything... anywhere... you started to feel self-conscious about your body. Seeing your ribs and spine sticking out against your skin was alarming, and you got called into the counselor's office more than once in school with concerns that you were suffering from some sort of eating disorder. Anyone who knew you knew you had no such problems: you easily consumed twice as many calories than average for your size and still gained nothing.
You identified as genderfluid, so the androgyny was nice, but a little bit of squish wouldn't have gone amiss, either. You were already in your early twenties and you were still shopping in the teen section. Adult clothes had to be altered to fit properly, and you just couldn't be bothered to do it.
You'd never once considered yourself attractive, and even wondered if there was something wrong with you. Dozens of doctors had examined you over the years, and the only thing they'd ever diagnosed you with was hypoglycemia. Apparently, you just had an extremely active metabolism, but there was no underlying cause. It's how your body was built. Frustratingly.
The thing you hated more than anything was when people told you that you shouldn't be complaining, that plenty of people would love to have that sort of problem, and that it wasn't a big deal. It was all you could do to not snap their heads off whenever they dismissed your concerns.
After years of just trying to gain weight, you started to wonder, what about building muscle? Could you do that? You could try, but you didn't know how. The internet had a ton of information, but a lot of it was conflicting and you didn't know which way would work best for you.
"Why don't you hire a personal trainer?" Your friend, Keisha, asked one day at lunch. You had been talking to her about your desire to bulk up.
"Personal trainer?" You echoed, eating your normal mountain of food. "You mean go to a gym? No thanks."
"No, no, there are some that come to your house," She said. "That's how I lost the baby weight for my wedding. I can refer you to someone, if you'd like. I think I still have a card for the studio I used."
You hummed uncertainly. "I don't know if I'm any more comfortable with that, either."
"I could come to your first session, if you like, for security purposes," Keisha said, rummaging through her purse. "Ah, here." She handed you a business card. "I actually had two. Keith was the first one, but he changed jobs halfway through my training, so he referred me to Lantern."
"That's a strange name," You said, looking the card over.
"I said the same thing when I met him," She said. "He's a tabaxi. They have really specific naming customs. His full name is Light of the Lantern, he's the muscle building specialist and a certified nutritionist. Super pretty, lovely eyes. You'd probably like him a lot. I don't know if he's single, though."
You snorted. "Are you trying to hook me up with your personal trainer?"
"Maybe," She said, scrunching her nose at you playfully. "Give it a shot. You might like it; the worst that can happen is you don't decide to continue. Hell, I'll even pay for the first session. Think of it as an early birthday present."
You sighed. "Alright, fine. I guess one session couldn't hurt."
"That's the spirit," She said. "Let me know your schedule and I'll set an appointment."
"Yeah, yeah. Are you going to eat your bacon?"
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