Roy & Max: Vol. 2 - Part 5: A Heron Calls (Patreon)

ROY

MAX: Alright, Teddie and Ezra have been escorted away. Can’t say they were happy about it, but there it is. 

ROY: Thank you.

I know Max is trying not to show how concerned he is. I’d be freaking out too, if I were him. 

Ugh, this is a mess. 

MAX: Everyone’s still partying downstairs. I just told ‘em you needed some air. They’re all still having a blast, you don’t have to worry about them. 

ROY: Good. I don’t want this... I don’t want this ruining our big day.

Who am I kidding? It’s already ruined. I swear to God I’m gonna murder Ezra for bringing my brother into this, and shooting his big fucking mouth off. 

I know I was gonna have to tell Max eventually, but not like this. I had good reasons.

I just hope to hell he understands. 

MAX: We got this suite to ourselves, big guy. No-one’s gonna come bursting in, interrupting. So...

Why don’t you start at the beginning? What’s this thing that you need to tell me?

Boy oh boy, where to start? This wasn’t how I imagined this day going, that’s for damned sure. 

ROY: Okay... (swallows). 

So, as you heard, my original name was Heath. Heath Roberts. I know it’s... a shock, and this probably all seems like a lot right now, but what I need to tell you is kind of a whole saga, so please just bear with me, okay?

MAX: It’s... weird hearing that, I can’t lie. But I promise I’ll listen. 

ROY: Thanks, sweetheart. That’s all I ask. 

I promise it will all make sense. 

The whole thing started maybe 15 years ago...

(ROY’S STORY)

”I was in my early 20s, just me and Teddie living in our family apartment after our mom had passed and dad had flown off with all the money. We think he spunked it all away in the desert, but that’s not important. Me and Ted had to fend for ourselves, both taking any jobs we could get to keep the roof over our heads. This was back in my hometown of Pleasance, by the way. Things were tight. 

I was stocky back then, but not what you’d call big. Nowhere near my size nowadays, but that’s kinda the point of the story, I suppose. Anyway, I had a little heft on me, so I was taking on jobs in private security. Mostly contract gigs, but it paid okay. I bounced at the local dive bar a few nights a week, and manned a fancier club in the next town over at weekends. 

One night at the fancy club, this guy comes out to talk to me. I guess he was in his 30s, losing his hair, average build, and he spoke with a real posh British accent. He talked kinda hoity-toity, you know? Honestly I thought he was gonna be an asshole, maybe make a complaint or something, but he wanted to talk to me about the gym. That was kind of a shock. Like how many times a week I was going, what kinda weights I was pushing, stuff like that. He even wanted to know about my diet; asking me about protein and shit. He seemed super into my build.

Well, at that age with no money, I was just about getting by. I was sneaking into the local community college gym at nights, and just eating whatever I could, I guess. As I said, I wasn’t huge by any stretch. 

Anyway, this guy introduced himself as Mr Heron, and said...”

HERON: I’m here in America on business for the summer. And if you don’t mind my saying so, I see great potential in you, ho ho.

”He had this weird laugh.”

ROY: Oh yeah? What kind of potential?

HERON: Well, I shan’t mince my words, dear boy. I think you could bulk up bigger. Much, MUCH bigger. You have the frame for it. I have an eye for these things. 

All you need is the right help. 

ROY:… Go on.

”Remember, I was poor as shit, living paycheck to paycheck.”

HERON: How would you like to increase your muscle mass for me, in exchange for funding? You’d be well compensated. I could help you grow very large and beefy indeed. We could pack a LOT of muscle onto you. 

ROY: How well compensated, exactly?

”Okay, I was a little cocky in my youth. I was pushing my luck.”

HERON: Well, for a start you wouldn’t have to work here, ho ho. With my help you could simply... focus on getting bigger and bigger. No distractions. No... living hand to mouth, as it were. Just bulking and bulking.

How does that sound?

ROY: And what do you get out of it? Cos if this is a sex thing, then...

”I knew I liked guys by that point, but hadn’t had much experience. And I sure as shit didn’t want to get into some kinda Indecent Proposal deal with this upper class chump.”

HERON: Oh no no, nothing of that sort to worry about, ho ho. If you’d permit me to view your results, put on the odd show for me now and then, maybe some touching, that’s all I ask for. A simple return on investment, that’s all. 

”It sounded like a fair enough deal to me. I wasn’t sure if he was for real or not - he could have been full of shit - but I agreed there and then. He was over the moon. And I guess I was cautiously optimistic about being funded, not having to bounce nightclubs, maybe making enough to really take care of myself and Teddie.

The next day he made good on his word: He signed me up to a local powerlifting gym, paid me up for a year, bought me like 10 tubs of protein powder, had ‘em delivered to my place, and handed me a thousand dollars in cash, just like that! I couldn’t fucking believe it! He told me to spend it on food, bigger clothes, the rent of course, and anything else I’d need. As soon as I’d burned through it, he promised more. 

I mean, this was just completely surreal. Like, who does that? You know what I mean? But he was one hundred per cent serious. The guy was genuine. I couldn’t believe it. 

So... I got to lifting, properly I mean. Heavier. I got a coach at the powerlifting gym. Mr Heron paid for him too. And I ate. Boy, did I eat! I started cramming in as much protein as I could. Chicken breasts, chicken burgers, chicken everything! I ate like there was no tomorrow. I lifted pretty much every day. Sometimes Mr Heron would come and watch me train. Sometimes he liked to watch me eat. That always seemed to get him excited, and he would encourage me to really push myself further, harder, bigger. 

After a while I found I could fit more food and more shakes in. He said he didn’t mind me getting a belly too, so that’s what I went for. My arms got thicker, my chest blew up, my legs and my ass started padding out with more muscle, and I got this like power-belly, I guess you’d call it.

As I’d promised, some days I showed off for Mr Heron. He was renting a swanky hotel suite, so I’d turn up and strip off my shirt, flexing my newly swollen biceps and my quads, my back, all that. He wanted to run his hands over my bigger body, but honestly he wasn’t creepy about it or anything. It was more like... I don’t know, pure admiration. Like he was in awe. 

And so for that summer he kept paying and I kept growing. I went from like 230 pounds to maybe 280 or thereabouts. I think Teddie found the whole deal a little odd - and it was, honestly - but we had money coming in. That was the most important part. He got that.

When that summer ended, Mr Heron had to go back to England, but he wanted to keep things going with me.”

HERON (over the phone): I can keep sending you the money, I’ll wire it straight to you, just... please don’t stop. You look incredible, Heath. I would so love for you to get even bigger. You’d like that too, wouldn’t you? I think you would. 

ROY: Uh, yeah, actually I would. 

”The truth was I LOVED being bigger. I loved the way the bulk felt on me. How my body carried the extra size. The way my shirts clung to my muscles. When I walked into a room, people looked at me. I caught folks staring at my arms all the time - men and women! 

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the attention. I was young and... well, who wouldn’t?

So we carried on for the rest of the year. He kept the money coming and I just kept on lifting. It got a little more intense as it went on: He started paying for me to take steroids and testosterone, so I did it. And I blew UP.  It started getting to the point where I was among the biggest at the gym. I mean, I was getting ridiculously strong. When I got into the mid-300s, I could lift Teddie above my head. And man, my APPETITE! Holy cow, was I eating a metric ton! 

I took pictures and videos for Mr Heron. And after about 18 months, he came for another visit."

HERON: Good GOD, Heath, you’re enormous!

”I’d hit 400 shortly before he arrived.”

HERON: I can’t - I can’t believe it! Your biceps are bigger than my head! I can’t stop staring at you...

”No-one could. I was so big, everywhere I lumbered, people’s mouths hung open. It was... well, as much an ego boost as it was a little embarrassing too. I didn’t fit into cars so well, or certain chairs or booths. 

And Mr Heron wanted even more. He wanted me even BIGGER."

HERON: Heath, I’m deadly serious. I think we can get you into the 500s. 

What do you think about that? I really, REALLY want to do it. 

ROY: Haha, that sounds pretty awesome to me. I’m into this. Big time. Fucking large and in charge.

”Maybe I’d let it go to my head a little...”

HERON: Excellent! Splendid! In that case we should make it official.

ROY: Official? What do you mean?

HERON: I have a contract here. Don’t worry, it looks serious but it’s not really. It’s just so we’ve got it in writing that you’re going to get even bigger for me. Basically just everything we’ve talked about. 

”I wasn’t sure about it, but that night he took me out to dinner. We ate - HUGE portions for me, as usual - and we drank too. At some point I guess I’d had so much to drink that I just signed the contract there and then. 

He’d already proven himself, he’d paid for my whole life. Me and Teddie were even able to stash some money away thanks to Mr Heron. He’d saved us, in some ways. So it didn’t seem like a big deal to sign his contract. I’d guessed he was some sort of bigwig business guy anyway, so it didn’t feel too out of the ordinary. 

But that’s when everything started to change. 

Oh, over the next few months I got even bigger, alright. He would frequently fly back and forth to check up on me, but then one night..."

HERON: Heath, to celebrate hitting 500 pounds, I want to take you somewhere. Somewhere special. 

ROY: You mean like one of your fancy restaurants? We could hit another buffet, if you want. There’s the Black Oyster across town we haven’t tried yet. Or LobsterLand-

HERON: I was thinking of something more... select. 

Somewhere private. 

ROY: This hotel suite isn’t private enough? Haha. 

HERON: Ho ho, quite. No, I had something specific in mind, actually. It would just be us and... a few friends.

”Something about that didn’t sit right with me.”

ROY: Friends? Like who?

HERON: It’s probably easier to show you in person, dear chap. 

I wouldn’t worry. They’ve also got your best interests at heart, just like I do. 

ROY: I don’t... I don’t know about that.

”My intuition was telling me this wasn’t good.”

ROY: I think I’d rather just keep this between you and me. Just like it always has been. I don’t really want... anyone else involved.

HERON: Ho ho, I understand, my boy. But the pickle is... this is all in the contract you signed, see...

ROY: It is? 

HERON: In a manner of speaking, yes. 

ROY: I, uh... Well, I’m sorry, Mr Heron. I just don’t - I’m not okay with that, to be honest with you. 

HERON: No, quite, quite. We can leave it for now. 

ROY: Okay...

HERON: Perhaps you could resume your flexing for me. You do it so well...

”But as time went on, he wouldn’t drop it. He wanted me to come to this... this event... or whatever it was. Sometimes he made it sound like a kind of initiation, almost. It just creeped me out. And he got insistent.

Each time I said no. But pretty soon I started noticing THEM. 

This is going to sound full-on tin-foil-hat-paranoid, but I swear it’s true. There were these guys in grey outfits. They started showing up everywhere I went. At the gym, at the supermarket, at the gas station. I even started seeing them sat in an SUV outside my apartment. It was creeping me the fuck out. They’d started following Teddie around too. 

When I asked Mr Heron about them, he told me they were just looking out for me, like they were there for my own good. But there was something in his voice. It was like... like he was afraid of them. 

I didn’t know what the fuck was going on anymore, and I didn’t like it one bit. I knew things had gone too far. I’d gotten involved in something I shouldn’t have, and fallen way too deep down the rabbit hole. 

Mr Heron was determined to take me to this damned ceremony-thing with his “friends”, and the guys in grey were watching my home almost every night. It was fucked up!

So... 

That’s when I knew I had to get out of there. I had to get me and Teddie away from these people. Something just told me they were dangerous. I mean, people don’t just stalk you like that for no reason. Not good people, anyway. And they sure as hell weren’t “looking out for me”. We had to get the fuck away. 

During one of the rare moments they weren’t outside watching - maybe they were swapping shifts or something, I don't know - I threw everything we owned into the car, took all the cash I’d saved, and grabbed Teddie. He knew what was up. He was just as scared as I was. 

And we drove. 

We drove for miles and miles and miles, and we didn’t look back. We crossed state lines, paid for everything in cash, and kept going for days. 

We never went back to Pleasance. 

I won’t get into all the boring details, but eventually we settled someplace where I was able to get my name legally changed - Teddie would only agree to changing his surname - so we went with Baker. And in time I just... started again. I found other work. We got separate apartments this time, eventually going our own ways. I got into computers and after many years that led me to MorganCorp...

I never saw Mr Heron or those guys in grey ever again. And I never wanted to...”

MAX:...

Holy fucking Jesus, Roy... I don’t... I don’t know what to say...

ROY: I couldn’t tell you, Max. I just couldn’t. I always felt that telling anyone about it, that was sorta like drawing them into it. The risk of getting you caught up in all that... It was... 

Can you understand? I could never get you involved. 

Please, please understand, Max. I don’t know what I’m gonna do if you can’t. 

MAX (nodding): I... Yeah... Yes? You have to realize, this is a whole LOT for me.

ROY: I know. And I’m so, SO sorry for not telling you before. But the thought of getting you involved in that shitshow... I just couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t... bring it into our world, this life that we’ve built together. Does that make any sense?

I wanted to tell you, Max. I thought about it all the goddamned time. 

But if it ever came back to haunt me, and then they knew about you and it got you involved... Jesus, I don’t know what would happen... 

You have to understand, there was something fucking sinister going on with those guys.

MAX: … You were trying to protect me.

ROY: That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.

Oh God, it’s like... shame and relief and self-loathing and God-knows-what-else all rolled into one. I can’t hold it in any longer…

MAX: Come here, big guy. You don’t have to cry alone. Put your head here, right here, that’s it. 

ROY (crying): Ughhh, I feel fucking horrible... I'm sorry...

MAX: You did what you had to do. I understand. 

ROY: Do you? I love you so much, Max. I don’t wanna lose you... I was just so worried that telling you about it would mean getting you dragged into it in some way. I wanted to keep you safe...

MAX: I love you, Roy Morgan-Baker. That’s not going to change. And I’m not going anywhere. Okay?

All I’ve ever wanted is just to be with Max. If I could hold him forever, I would. 

MAX: It took a lot for you to tell me all that. And I see why you kept it bottled up for so many years. 

You may have had a different name once, but you’re still my Roy. And you’ll always be my Roy, got it? What did we sign up for earlier, huh? Til death do we part, the whole bit. 

ROY: (Sniff) Yeah...

MAX: It doesn’t matter how you got so huge. None of that matters. You’re a beautiful person, Roy. And I love you more than you can ever know. That’s never going to change. Never ever. 

Ugh he is everything to me. So kind and so understanding, even after a bombshell like that. What would I do without Max? I honestly don’t know. 

ROY: Can we... stay here for a little longer? Will you keep holding onto me?

MAX: Of course, beautiful. I’ve got you. I’m never gonna let anyone hurt you. 

ROY: I love when you stroke my hair. 

MAX: Then I’ll keep doing it. 

ROY: You think everyone’s wondering where we are?

MAX: Fuck ‘em. Let them wonder. 

ROY: God, I hope Teddie or Ezra didn’t tell anybody else about it.

MAX: Even if they did, I’m sure it’ll come to nothing. It was so long ago now.

ROY: You really think?

MAX: I know it.

I hope so, Max. God, I hope so...