"I don't know," she replied. "Just tell me anything. Show me something you've never showed anybody before."

He grew still, and she backed away, hoping she had not offended him.

He just stared into her eyes, searching for something she could not identify.

After a few moments of silent, telepathic interrogation, Bethany got nervous.

"Trent, did I -"

"Will you promise not to make a big deal out of it?"

She blinked. "What?"

He took a deep breath. "If I do what you ask, if I show you something no one else has seen, will you promise to let me explain before you react?"

She shrank back a little, her heartbeat like a tiny pulse in her chest. What was he saying? What was he going to show her?

She did some searching of her own, and found a child in Trenton's eyes: scared of her reaction, yearning for her approval and attention.

She nodded slowly. "I - I promise."

Yet another silent moment passed between them, and then Trenton rose from his seat. He took her hand in his and led her through the familiar twists and turns of his home. Every footstep raised her curiosity, and strengthened her dread. She had the distinct feeling that this would change everything, whether for the good or for the bad.

He paused inside outside one of his doors, which had been closed every time she had been here. In fact, she had never seen the inside of any of his rooms, save his bathroom and kitchen. She wondered if the room were what he intended to reveal to her, and, if so, what would she find past the threshold?

The door led into his bedroom, which was as immaculately organized as each of his offices. She glanced around, and perched on the edge of his bed when he gestured that she do so. His plain taste extended even here, in the white walls and nondescript furnishings that were obviously intended only for function, not frivolity.

Trenton's heavy sigh was what brought her eyes back to his face. His upper lip was sweating, and his hands were shaking as he began to unbutton his shirt.

Her mouth opened involuntarily.

"Trent...what are you - "

He shook his head, silencing her question. His hands continued down, separating the vertical stripes bit by bit. Her nerves stood on end when he dropped the garment onto the bed next to her, and she could feel her knuckles going white under her thighs, where her hands were gripping the sheets.

He had removed his shirt, and the bulge of his stomach was much more evident with just a pristine white tank top to hide it from the world. He took in another labored breath and lifted the scrap of clothing over his head, tossing it on top of the other piece. She watched the white cloth longer than was necessary, terrified to look at Trenton's bare chest. Was this what he had decided to show her?

Before she had gathered the courage to look, he had removed her hand from the sheets and flattened her palm against his skin. A gasp escaped her lips, and her eyes flew to the place where his fingers gently gripped her wrist. He just held her there for a moment, waiting for her to relax. Eventually, she looked up and caught his eyes, and he smiled shyly. She felt his hand move, and her gaze flashed to it.

He guided her fingers down a bit, to sit just below his nipples, where his large belly began. He curled her fingers, and she felt the tips slip into a pocket of warm flesh. She tried to jerk her hand away, but he held her fast. Her fingers had disappeared into the warmth she felt, nearly to the knuckles. She tested the depth, curiously moving her hand further into the pocket and meeting no resistance. Trenton just watched her, and when she removed her hand in wonder, he reached for something on his back.

She watched in horror as the swollen lump that was Trenton's stomach slowly began to grow. It protruded further and further until, just where her hand had been earlier, a seam appeared. She gasped, then stopped breathing, sure that if she suffocated in this nightmare she would wake up to reality.

She did not wake up, and the chunk of false flesh fell away, revealing Trenton's true body, which was decidedly less flabby. In fact, it was smooth, and hard with muscle, like someone had exchanged his face with the body of Superman. She replaced her hand on his chest, awed and desperately trying to understand what was happening.

Trenton let her run her hand over his skin, but he had not completed his transformation, as was evidenced when he reached up to find a seam on his hairline as well. As she gawked up at him, his horrible comb over slid away, a full, closely-shaven head of hair left behind.

Who was this man? Why was he dressed as Trenton McDermott? Clearly, it could not be the man she had always known. As his facial hair, his glasses, and his nose joined the pile on the bed beside her, her eyes began to go dry. What was she seeing?

This man was nothing like the person she had kissed on a busy street. That man had been ugly; this man was the kind of beautiful that was reserved for the movie screens. Where there used to be a soft, plush belly, now there was a hard, flat plane; where once existed a head begging for the hair of its youth, now grew a mane that was healthy and thick. Where was Trenton's pudgy face? She could not find it in the chiseled jaw line or the pointy nose. What had become of the lips that adored a fat, Cuban cigar, and kissed with the expertise of a man trained in passion? Even those, which had remained physically unaltered during his conversion to beauty, seemed entirely unusual when settled amongst such unfamiliar features.

She stared. Her eyes ran the gamut from his head to his feet, and marveled at the phenomenon before her.

She knew what he meant now. A hundred questions swarmed her mind, even after he moved away from her shaking palm and threw his tank back over his head. He crossed his arms - how had she never noticed the definition of muscle there? - and leaned against the door. Her hand seemed unable to move, and remained suspended where it had been when his skin had been there for it to rest upon.

"I can explain."



Before and after pictures above! Any thoughts on this chapter? :D <3

What You Don't Know (Sequel to &quot;Secret Love&quot;)(Hunter Hayes/James Marsden)Where stories live. Discover now