The Only Way is Up

Part One

As expected she snapped a response. "You think I'm going into a mirrored torture chamber full of plastic-titted women who'll look at me like I'm the dregs of the earth. I've never liked the gym, and I can't imagine going now."

She was almost on the verge of tears, she'd never felt so helpless, so useless and so unattractive.

Kim sighed, she'd watched her best friend have every ounce of her self confidence stripped by the bastard that she married, and she couldn't take it anymore. "Look, he's got that new place, across town, part of the sports complex he and his partners bought a couple of months back. They were going to renovate the gym as it's to quote him, 'earthy', but it's surprised him, it's busy with a proper understated crowd. A few boxers, some of the staff at the complex, busy but low key, no Lycra, no gym bunnies, no one to put you off. Just normal people and normal trainers. Let me speak to him, get you set up with one of them."

Nicole looked terrified as Kim prodded her, "come on. The Ball is eight weeks away. At least you'll feel you've done your best. Yes?"

As she entered the gym three days later, Nicole was still grossly unsure of what she was doing there. Her dark lank hair was pulled up into a pony tail, and she'd tried to hide her lumpy, obese body under a shapeless black t-shirt and loose joggers. Keeping her eyes down and ignoring the rest of the room she entered the ladies changing room and she nervously tossed her jacket and car keys into a locker then turned to re enter the gym and wait for the trainer that Mike had promised her. Eight weeks, that was all she had to endure.

Kim was right though, this was no normal gym, as she stood she looked around, hoping she appeared discreet and not terrified. To her left were a bank of treadmills, to her right a bank of static bikes, but the rest of the room comprised of a boxing ring, some punch bags, and a lot of free weights. There were three machines that she recognised from the last time she was in a gym many years ago, but everything else was grossly different.

A few muscular men stood in the corner chatting, towels around their neck, another three were spotting each other as they did some form of bench press, and a woman was power lifting under the instruction of a middle aged bald man. No one looked up, no one stared and there was no air of pretention.

There were a lot of things to say about this gym, but it wasn't imposing for the same reason that other gyms were. She didn't immediately feel like she was out of place, she didn't feel intimidated in the same way. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing.

Maxim Chertoff was about to blow his one remaining fuse. Mike Parfitt sat behind his desk and whilst he wasn't smug, he wasn't appreciating exactly the effect he was having.

"You are telling me that I am training someone? You've made me into a personal trainer? Is that what I'm worth?"

Mike shook his head, "of course not. I am asking you to do this as a personal favour. Look Max, you owe me a favour, this is me calling it. I wouldn't ask, but this is a very special person, I need someone I can trust. Ok?"

Max followed Mike's eyes out of the one way window that looked down on the gym and suddenly saw the woman stood there looking nervous. Quite rightly so. He'd never seen someone look so out of place. She looked middle aged, dressed in what looked like gardening clothes, and the way her eyes were dropped to the floor she didn't exude any positivity. Hell. That was what this was, another overweight woman wanting a personal trainer to take responsibility for her own bad choices. He wasn't a personal trainer and he resented this SO much.

"That? That is who I must work with?"

His Russian birth barely made it to his accent these days, it was so long since he left his mother country, but when he was angry or stressed it was more than a subtle hint in his voice.

Mike eyeballed him, "that is a person who needs this place and I'm asking you, as someone despite all this that I trust. Don't let me down Max."

Max scowled at him, then left the office slamming the door in his wake. When he hit the gym floor he knew he needed a moment, to walk away and take a deep breath. As he strode forward the woman looked up, her whole demeanour told him that she didn't want to be there. A hint somewhere deep in him told him that it was his job to change that, to make her see that this could be what she wanted it to be, but he was too busy trying to control his own emotions.

"You're here for personal trainer?"

The face that peeped up from under the thick unruly fringe of hair looked terrified, she bit her bottom lip nervously before nodding. He nodded back then pointed to the corner of the room.

"Warm up, treadmill, ten minutes." Then he headed back into the office to speak to Mike again, he had to get out of this as quick as he could.

Nicole watched him disappear, she was shaking. Everyone in the room was casual, older, normal looking, but the man who'd just scowled at her was the opposite. Her heart was still pounding from his glare, from his scrutiny, and from his scorn. This was all wrong, firstly he was significantly younger, then everyone in the room, including herself, she'd have put him at maybe twenty five. And he was sinfully handsome, despite the scowl, the scraped back collar length dark hair, the facial hair that was scruffy, unruly whilst looking natural and in keeping with a feature in Vogue. His t-shirt did little to hide the toned and athletic body underneath, and the sweat shorts revealed shapely calves. The man, or rather the boy, was beautiful, and she had no intention of spending any more time with him than was necessary, this was the exact thing she was hoping to avoid, her imperfections being displayed for all to see against something so perfect.

He'd be a good match for Vincent's new love Shelley, and for a moment she considered trying to set that up. But that meant that she was thinking of Vincent again, as her heart sank even further, she headed in the direction of the treadmills and a 'warm-up."