Chapter 1

Have you ever been around someone genuinely charismatic? Not the everyday pretty, or smart, or funny- truly charismatic. When they say something, they describe a vision of the world, and it’s not just a world you want to be in- it’s a world that seems fundamentally more *real* than mundane reality. People don’t just follow them because they like their ideas or think they deserve to succeed- they follow them because the idea of doing anything else feels like an absurdity.


Certain people have it. Some celebrities, some politicians, some business leaders. You can tell, when you’re around it. Maybe there was someone in your high school who had a taste of it- when they told you a plan for the weekend, the idea of suggesting something else to do seemed insane. A girl, maybe, who changed everything when she walked in the room- all eyes were on her, and whatever she said, went. Maybe you’ve worked for someone who had a hint of it- when they walked into your store, you suddenly realized why they owned the business, and you were working a cash register.


Some combination of animal magnetism and instinctive behavior. Maybe it’s genetic. You can learn some of it; take speech classes and learn to control your body language, change your appearance to be more attention getting. But it’s not really about attraction; there are ugly, short men who models will fling themselves at for their attention. It’s not about being an ‘alpha’- sometimes the person is the quietest in the room. It’s something about vision- seeing a different future then us regular folks can see, and having such sheer force of will that the world starts falling into place around that vision.

It’s not necessarily a good thing. People who have ‘it’ can make you break your own boundaries before you’ve even realized you were getting close to it. Sometimes, people who have ‘it’ just waste it- building a company that makes a lot of money, but could disappear from the earth without making a real difference. Sometimes, people use it to do terrible things.

Maybe, the key is appetite- people who have that charisma just *want* more then the average person. There are people who will ask you to give them anything- a politician who will ask you to give money, and volunteer, and call people at dinnertime. A boss who will make you work overtime and miss family events. Even a lover who will make you alienate your family and friends, so you can give more and more time to them. Once you say yes once, it gets easier, and easier to keep saying yes. And they will never notice your sacrifice- it will never even occur to that politician that you missed your daughter’s recital to volunteer for him, or to your stunning new girlfriend that you might have wanted to do Christmas with your family, because their vision is so all-consuming.

Anyways, I’m not sure why I brought this up. She’ll be awake soon, and I have to help get her breakfast ready.

“Seriously?” I half smiled as Erica snatched another chicken nugget. “I would have gotten you some, too, but you said you weren’t hungry.”

“I didn’t know you were getting nuggets! And besides, I only want a little.” She snagged her fourth out of my bag, used it to scoop up the entire contents of the little boxes of ranch, and popped it into her mouth, all without mussing her makeup.

“I just need a little snack to tide me over so that James doesn’t think I’m some fat pig.”

“James? The ‘I like a woman with an appetite’ James? The one who spent like three hundred dollars on drinks and appetizers, James? The one whose hands were glued to your butt the entire way home, James? The one who took you out for breakfast the morning after, James? I don’t think that boy has an issue with your weight, Erica.”

Erica pretended to look wounded by my comment, crossing her hands over her heart. I knew for a fact that, despite the hours she had spent picking out an outfit, getting ready, and stressing she was already perfectly aware of how this date would go.

The older man would fall hopelessly in love with her, spoiling her with gifts and trips, staying over or having her over more and more frequently. She would talk about how wonderful he was. Then she’d get bored. Just like every other relationship I’d known her to have since we met in high school.

I wasn’t resentful of my friend. I think she genuinely did fall for each of these guys. She just…she had an appetite for life, and she liked new experiences.

“Besides, one look at your butt in that dress, and he’s going to be begging you to marry him. He seems like the type to want a big family.”

Erica smiled as she popped another nugget. I had stopped pretending like they were even mine anymore, and had pushed them over to her side of the table. Another thing that I wasn’t quite jealous of my friend over- when she gained weight, she looked thick. The kind of BBW that Drake had in mind when he wrote the song. I just looked stocky and lazy. Honestly, having Erica absent mindedly steal half of every meal I bought might have been the best thing that ever happened to me.

“Is Oliver coming over?” she asked as she dipped fries into barbeque sauce and checked Instagram with her other hand.

“Yeah, but he’ll probably be gone by the time you get back. If you come back tonight, slut.”

“Is that jealousy I hear? The bitterness of a lonely soul, trapped in a loveless marriage?”
People tended to make assumptions about Erica-namely, that she was a vapid bitch.

Usually, they just saw a pair of enormous tits, and didn’t figure the person attached to them was capable of joking around, of being funny, of being a human being with thoughts and feelings. I wondered how much that was the reason for her usual public bimbo act.

Her phone chirped. She stood up, undid the camel toe that formed literally every time she sat down, and checked her hair in the phone’s camera one last time.

“Hey. Have a great time tonight.” I smiled at her. Too serious sounding. “And try to be quieter if you come back here this time.”

“Thanks, Dani. And, no, no promises. Also, try to do something fun tonight. Don’t let him talk you into just watching arthouse movies on the couch all night again.”

Erica jiggled out the door. I sighed. Despite her frequent barbs, I was more then content with my life. “I like boring. Sometimes.” I muttered to myself as I scrolled through Prime once again, trying to pick something to watch.

**********

“You know, babe,” Oliver said as he put a hand on my thigh. He always did that when was going to say something that he was worried might offend me. “Considering how often you tell me that you can’t stand your best friend, you really do talk about her a lot.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s just…a lot of ‘Erica this, Erica that.’ You just seem like…like, she stresses you out. Like she takes up a lot more room in your mind then is maybe…healthy? For a friendship?”

As aggravating as the topic of conversation was, I didn’t think he was entirely wrong. Erica was…she was a big person. She displaced a lot of metaphysical mass, in every room she was. She was funny, she was hot, she was charismatic. Being in her shadow all of my life, being the sidekick…it could be exhausting, sometimes.

But on the other hand, I loved her. She was my best friend. She had been there for me through everything- breakups, college angst, my dad’s death. I would do anything for her.

**********
“HEYYYY!” The door slammed shut with an alarming bang. Oliver and I hastily sat up from our state of deshabille, before I remembered this was my best friend, not my mom. She slammed the door shut loudly, and plopped herself between me and my boyfriend.

“Oooh, pizza,” she said, grabbing a slice and chewing gustily.

“Date didn’t go well?” I managed to croak out, sleepily. It was close to two am. Oliver hastily scooched slightly to the left on the couch, a bit further away from the sudden overflow of plump chonkiness.

“No, date went great. I just had him get me a Lyft home- I have some things I want to do in the morning.” I almost snorted. “Morning” for Erica traditionally meant sometime around 11:30.

She finished her first slice and went for another piece of the now-cold pizza Oliver had ordered. “Anyways, weird request, but do you think you could help me with a project tomorrow? I just need you to take some pictures. Shouldn’t take too long.”

I didn’t really have plans for my Saturday outside of going to the gym. I’d wanted to go mid-morning when it was emptier, but I didn’t really have any particular need for that. “Sure. I’m happy to be your photographer for the morning.”

She grabbed a third slice of pizza, clutched it in between her thick lips, and pushed herself up from the couch. “Alright, time for bed. You two party animals keep it quiet, okay?” she said, laughing as she walked to the master bedroom of the apartment.