Adorable

Chapter 1 a new job

Note to reader: All but the first chapter of this story is written from a shifting pint of view, when the POV changes the change will be indicated by a short paragraph containing only the POV character’s name. Like so.

Helga

I got a new job at a newly formed magazine, it was a surprise to see a new magazine these days. But the magazines focus is on “Body positivity” according to the owner, Terry Sanders. He decided to interview me himself. He said that he was surprised to see someone so skinny and toned applying for a position with FAM. The magazine in question. I honestly have no idea what it stands for, I figured I’d just keep an ear out for someone saying it to save myself some embarrassment of admitting ignorance of something so basic. But yeah, I was absolutely made for working at a body positivity magazine. I am incredibly positive about my body! I don’t think there is a soul alive who loves themselves like me. So this job sounds perfect for me. Besides, it’s finally a chance to use my business degree that’s been gathering dust since I graduated. But, in truth my main reason for being happy was simple. I was broke. I was already behind on rent since I’d lost my last job, and I’m too pretty to be homeless! Hell, if these people had said no I’d have to become a stripper or something. Lime, I’d never considered being a sex worker, and I despise the idea to be frank. But at least I’d be surrounded by people who loved my body all day. Thank God I got this job though, I really don’t want to do that.

Before I start working though I have to fill out a document asking for medical and general information. In the end what I’d turned in was,

Name: Helga Simone Sanchez

Age: 27

Height: 5’8”

Weight: 124 pounds

Ethnicity: Mixed

Hair color: black

Eye color: Brown

There were a few more pages to be honest, they had asked me everything but the size of my chest, it’s a large C cup if you’re curious. Like the rest of me they’re perfect. My stomach is perfectly flat. My butt is a perfect little bubble. Every part of my body is perfectly pert, perky, and tanned. So, it’s no surprise that I’m more positive about my body than anybody else. Everyone thinks I’m beautiful, and they aren’t afraid to tell me. I absolutely adore the compliments I get. It’s a guilty pleasure of mine to go over every praising comment I’ve heard that day as I have dinner, then again when I lie down to sleep, and again at breakfast the next day, then one last time as I drive to work. Then I spend the day gathering a new set of compliments. I am fully aware that I am extraordinarily conceited, but everyone has flaws, and loving yourself too much is far from the worst one out there.

So, I got up early on my first day of work to make sure I look my best. I did my makeup for the first time in months. I normally don’t bother with makeup too much, I was graced with unusually lively and vibrant skin that looks made up naturally. But it is my first day, and I’ll be spending a lot of time with these people. So it’s Worth a bit of work to look even better than I usually do, just to make a good first impression. So I spent even more time than usual looking into the mirror this morning. As I went out to my car I grabbed an apple from the kitchen for breakfast, I’ve got to watch my weight after all. The drive to work was uneventful, and I quickly found myself walking to a generic looking office building to see my new workplace.

I step into the lobby to be met by Mr. Sanders, he said “ Hello, and welcome to your first day at FAM.” And pointed down a hallway, saying “Your office is the last door on the left, but the magazine is still forming and there isn’t much for you to do just yet. So why don’t you take the opportunity to go around the office and introduce yourself to the rest of the staff? I think I’m the only one whose met you. Why don’t you change that?” I nodded and said “Of course,” as he left. No compliments, but I’ll get plenty more later I’m sure.

In hindsight I should have realized what was up based on the posters alone. It seemed like half of the walls were covered in paintings, pictures, posters, and magazines. Queen Latifah and Melisa McCarthy Were the thinnest people on any of them. With them were people I didn’t recognize. But they all had two things in common. They were all women, and they all looked heavy as hell. Don’t get me wrong, some were shockingly pretty for their weight, but that’s the most positive thing I could have said about them.

Then, after I finished looking over the décor a man I did not recognize walked by me. He had black hair slicked back in a way that looked greasy, and a tan that made you want to question it’s source. Sunlight? Fake tan? Just dark skin? He gave no clue. He did a double take when he saw me. I get that reaction a lot, but usually the guy’s face screams lust, this time was different. He just seemed surprised, maybe a bit confused. He said “Hello Miss, are you l” then he stopped mid word and gave a, clearly forced, cough before saying “I mean, may I help you?” I decided to roll with it. No need to make enemies on day one after all, I said “I’m just getting my bearings. It’s my first time here,” then I held a hand out to shake and said “I’m Helga by the way, I’m going to be the head of PR and advertising for F.A.M.” he took my hand and shook, his face still screaming shock. What the hell was going on here? He said “Umm, name’s Frank. Frank Le Croix. Pleasure to meet you.” The guy was friendly enough, but he seemed like his mind was elsewhere. That would explain a lot, nobody seems impressed or hands out compliments while they’re stuck in their head.

Then I met another man named Luke, he also had brown hair and eyes, but nothing else about him was like Frank at all. He wore a dress shirt with the top button undone and a pair of black slacks. He said that his real name is Lucious, but he hates how pretentious that sounds, so he goes by Luke. I got my first real compliment of the day from him! He said I have beautiful eyes. A very traditional introductory statement from a man who doesn’t want to seem like a freak, eight out of ten compliment.

Lastly I met the only other woman in the office. I heard her before I saw her, I was standing at the water cooler when I saw the water ripple. At the same time I heard footsteps behind me. It made me think of that scene from Jurassic Park. When I turned to face the source of the noise I saw a woman. A morbidly obese woman in a plaid top, it was barely showing beneath a grey vest and a pair of overalls. She was also quite tall, about six feet I’d think. I’d guess she weighs somewhere around four hundred pounds. Despite this she seemed bubbly, she’s the type who would practically bounce as they spoke. Her chest and stomach both seemed like they actually bounce when she speaks. The woman looked like one of those ancient fertility idols. No, she’s clothed, maybe a lumberjack. No, not a lumberjack, she isn’t that muscular. She has the style for it with those clothes though. Maybe the proprietor of a diner that serves lumberjacks.

As Shelly walked toward me I heard Frank’s voice say “Morning Shelly, looking beautiful as always.” Funny he didn’t say anything like that to me. They must be an item or something. I waved at her and said “Shelly was it? My name is Helga, pleasure to meet you. I’m looking forward to working with you.” Shelly looked me in the eye and held out a hand to shake. When I took it she pumped my hand up and down, saying “Glad to see there’s an F.A. in our fam” with a chuckle.” As she laughed I realized that her face was covered in small, easy to miss, freckles. The confusion on my face must have been clear, so she said “I take it you don’t know what F.A. means? No, you must know, this is an F.A. magazine.” Damn, she came so close to saying it. Oh well, I’ll find out later. Shelly continued “It’s good to know the boss man isn’t just hiring pretty big women for his own pleasure. I had thought that maybe he was just accepting women who he thinks are easy on the eyes.” Wait, what? What the hell did she just say? She thinks that she’s the office eye candy and that I’m the proof that Sanders isn’t hiring women for that? Does she even own a mirror? Whatever. I can deal with delusional people as long as I know that I’m the actual pretty one.

Frank came to the water cooler. Him and Shelly were already talking about something I don’t care about. I think football? They mentioned a coach and a guy named, Holms I think it was? Whatever. I got a little Styrofoam cup of water and began drinking very slowly just to have something to do while they talked sports. Thank God that Luke came in to save me from this dull conversation. Wait, what does he have in his hands? Is that a sketch pad? He must be the artsy type. Luke said “Oh, Hey everyone. Great to see you all together, it means I can show this off to everyone at once.” He then turned the pad of paper over to show us his work. On the pad was a drawing of a chubby woman, no, a fat one, she just carries it well. She had a huge chest and ass, clearly drawn by a guy. But wait, under that image was F.A.M. in huge letters, then underneath it was smaller text reading “Fat Admirers Monthly.”

I don’t even know what they were talking about next. I was in shock, maybe he was just crazy? No. Everyone else seemed happy with the drawing. Clearly it is correct, but how? Sanders came up to the group and said “Happy to see you all together. What’s the news?” and Luke showed him the drawing. He said “Normally I’d say it should just have the acronym. But this is our first magazine, so having the full mame for Fat Admirers Monthly makes sense. Regardless, excellent work Luscious.” Luke then gave him a funny look and Sanders said “Oh right, Luke. Forgot you prefer the nickname.”

It all made sense now. Frank looking confused, Shelly thinking she’s the eye candy. Hell, even the compliment’s focus on my eyes, the one part of your body that doesn’t care about fat at all. Even Sanders and his comment that he was surprised to see someone so thin. Everything. I did my best to disappear, this felt so, so wrong. I quietly excused myself to go to sit in my office, saying something about seeing the room layout as I left. Whatever. They all seemed so friendly to Shelly, and now it made sense. This was Fat Admirers Monthly. They must like fat for some reason or another. Of course they liked Shelly more. She’s nothing but fat it seems.

I sat at my desk in silent contemplation for what felt like years before Sanders walked in. He said “Hey Helga, I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed upset when you left, then you never came back. Is something wrong?” I sighed and answered, “This is going to sound stupid of me but. I didn’t know what F.A.M. stood for. I didn’t know what the magazine was about. I had decided to play it cool and act like I knew until it came up, so, I just found out and was trying to come to terms with it.” What I did not tell him was that I was going through a minor freak out for the dumbest reason ever. I’m skinny as hell, and I’m surrounded by people who think that fat is beautiful, not me. I’ve never had to deal with being the ugly one before. It feels absurd that anyone would ever think I was. Sanders said “Aahh, that explains it. I’d just figured you were either an ideolog or a lesbian who loved fat girls, since that’s our main focus here. Well, I saw your work on the application, and you being thin will save us a buck on your health insurance. So if you’re fine with it then I am too. So, do you still want the job?”

My head went back to before I was hired here. Stripper was my backup plan, and there’s no way in hell I’ll end up doing that. So I said “I’ll be honest, it was a shock, I’m still not sure how to feel about it. But yeah, if you’ll have me I’ll stay.” Sanders held out a hand to shake and said “Then welcome aboard.” I took his hand and shook, then Sanders continued. “I’m looking forward to this.” He looked me in the eye, and clearly knew that I was not looking forward to this at all. So Sanders said “If it helps I can share something about me?” I nodded and Sanders continued, “I know it sounds petty and base, but I’ve always loved bigger women a lot more than skinny ones, it’s why I started this magazine” Then he realized what he’d just said and continued, “No offense to you or anyone else thin, it’s just what I find beautiful. Eye of the beholder and all right?” I did my best to seem like I was not offended and forced a slight laugh, as if he was funny and not obvious. Sanders looked pretty awkward and said “Anyway, don’t worry about me spreading rumors. Mum’s the word.” Before stepping out the door and mumbling “Bye” still clearly embarrassed.

Sanders never did tell anyone, but I still felt weirdly judged. Months went by at that job and I felt like every moment I saw anyone else I was being told “You’re ugly. You stupid little twig.” Or the like. Logically I know that nobody at this office would actually say that, but it still wouldn’t leave my head. But the worst thing was Shelly. All the boys were fawning over her constantly as they all but ignored me, and yes, I know it’s just the normal order of things in reverse. Shelly would never let me forget that. Whenever she wasn’t working she was marveling at how different this place was than her entire life beforehand. People thought that she was cute, they were nice to her, they never gave her dirty looks. That should be me damn it!

The worst part was that I had no way to change things. I couldn’t diet and exercise my way out if this. Starving myself to get more love and favor out of the guys was nothing new. But they would actually like me less if I did that. I couldn’t even get fucking surgery! Lipo would make it worse too, and implants wouldn’t put me above Shelly, she looks like a double D would be too small for her. It’s almost like my best option was to get fat, and that’s a shit trade. My coworkers would think I was prettier, but everyone else would say the opposite. The only good news about this place was that the work came naturally to me. Sanders was beyond happy with my work. It was only three months in when he gave me a raise. A RAISE! I spent half a decade at my old job and only ever got tiny boosts to my pay so it would track with the price of living, and even that was given begrudgingly. It’s nice to have your work appreciated. It’s like an incredibly sincere compliment to get a raise out of the blue, and God knows I’m starving for those, I went a whole damned month without getting any adoration. I felt like I was going through withdrawals and just got a hit. I smiled all day and all night after that.

Then, half a year into this job I overheard Luke and Frank talking while I was on my way to the water cooler I heard Frank say “Yeah, I’m surprised such a skinny woman would want to work here.” Wait, are they talking about me? Normally I’m not quick to eavesdrop, but this is about me. So, I stayed out of sight to listen. Luke answered “Yeah, she’s the image of beauty elsewhere, why would she want to stay here all day?” Frank replied, “Honestly? I overheard Sanders on day one. He said that he thought she’s probably some kind of LGBT and liked bigger women.” Then I heard Luke say “I don’t know, she doesn’t seem interested in Shelly at all, like, I’ve managed to catch Sanders ogling her a dozen times already. I never once saw Helga doing it. Hell, if anything she’s probably just desperate for work.” Then Frank said “But Helga really is pretty, shame she’s so thin. She’d be gorgeous if she put on a bit of weight.” Luke replied “Yeah, if she was the size of like, her” and pointed up at the picture of Queen Latifa, “I’d have to ask her out. I mean, she’s funny and nice, all she’s missing is that she’s a twig.” Okay, that’s enough. Fuck them. I made a show of being present as I got some water, both men fell silent the moment I did.

I talked to myself as I drove home that evening.
“Frank and Luke were fucking pigs, looking at me like a piece of meat.” But no, I’ve always had guys saying bullshit like that about me, and it never bothered me a bit. But this time they thought I was ugly. “No,” I whispered, “they said I was pretty, just far too thin.” I parked my car and began walking into my place. “But then only people at work would like me.” I shook my head, “No, this bullshit is common enough to have a magazine dedicated to it. There have to be more guys into it than them. But who else could it be?” As I stepped inside it felt like the memory of every guy who ever didn’t like me flashed before my eyes. It could be any of them. No, it could be all of them. I stepped into my restroom and looked at myself in the mirror, said, “Yeah, that would make sense. Everyone admits that I’m pretty. Hell, even those two pigs thought that I was pretty, they just thought I was too skinny to be sexy. It was the office staff were who I saw the most anyway. So maybe. . .” and I pulled out my cell phone, thinking aloud. “It’s been ages since I’ve had pizza anyway. Besides, it’s not exactly an all or nothing deal. Maybe I’ll just relax my diet a bit and see what happens.” I then begin to dial Domino’s Pizza.

God this is just too good. I haven’t had pizza for years. I’m starting to see why people get so fat so often. It even did the thing from the adds where you pull a slice away after taking a bite, for the cheese to stretch instead of breaking off and you get a giant string of cheese going between the piece and your face. I had to laugh when I saw that. I had a slice and went to put the rest in my fridge out of habit. Just before I could open the fridge door I thought to myself, if I only have one slice a day then some of it will probably go bad before it’s eaten. “Well, I’m not wasteful.” I said as I grabbed a second slice, putting the rest into the fridge.

That night I went to bed feeling like a cat who’d just had a can of tuna. I felt so happy that I think I fell asleep with a grin on my face. And that joy didn’t fade for the entire next day. Maybe it was because I had another slice of pizza for breakfast? I don’t know. Maybe pizza just does that to me? Regardless of why it was I had to squeeze myself in the car when I got to the parking lot hugging my torso and rocking back and forth. I normally thought that was childish, but I was just so happy. I walked into the office with a grin still plastered on my face.

“Lookin’ good Helga.” Were the forst thing I heard walking in that morning. It was Mr. Sanders, on his way out with a stack of papers. “You know, I don’t think I’ve seen you so happy before. Did you win the lottery or something?” I was feeling good, and felt I’d play along with him, saying “Nope! You’re stuck with me boss man.” And started laughing myself as I stepped into the building. I got what felt like a dozen more compliments that day, it was so nice that I didn’t even care when one of the pigs said I need to smile more, and that I’m pretty when I smile, I didn’t even remember who’d said it.

As I sat down in my office I went to check my email, talking to myself, “Maybe I should have pizza more often.” No, it wasn’t the pizza. It was because I was happy. Even if the pizza is why I’m happy. Maybe I should treat myself more often. I spent the rest of the day thinking about what I could get for dessert. In the end ice cream won.