[Spirit of Lust 2] Chapters 160 & 161. (Patreon)

Chapter 160: A gym acquaintance.

The day before had been strange. In wanting to give the girls their space to talk, I was practically just a bystander in my own house. Isabelle, being herself, had little issue talking to the girls she once supposedly hated, but with a group of six people there, all wanting a turn to talk, I could do nothing else but stand back and silently watch.

I suppose it was a good thing that the girls had fun, but I couldn’t let go of the nagging feeling in the back of my head. Just being there, not participating, watching Isabelle seamlessly get along well enough with Mila, Grace and Sarah… It was bugging me in ways I didn’t understand. Good thing I was in the right place to let go of some frustrations.

I stepped into the gym. Wearing my uniform still, I quickly headed to the changing rooms. I had little time to spare, since I had to go to work right after this.

I changed into my workout clothes and went back to the main area, where I did my stretches in front of the mirror. Again, I felt eyes on me and did my absolute best to ignore them. By now, however, I was positive it wasn’t just my imagination. People were actually looking at me. From clear novices who were stepping into the gym for the first time to regulars who happened to come at the same time as me.

Ignore them. Ignore them. You’re here to work on your arms and shoulders for an hour, take a shower and go to work at the coffee shop. That last one was a big enough source of social stress, so better not even try to imagine what everyone else was thinking when they watched me.

I went to an open bench press, looked around just to make sure it really was open, and started putting the weights on. Then, as I finished setting the last one, getting it to 80 kilos, a loud, booming voice startled me.

“Oliver, my boy! How’s the day treating you?”

It wasn’t that he was shouting. The man was just naturally loud. Believe me, you know when he’s shouting.

“Mr. Carlos,” I said, turning back to face the large man. “Good afternoon. I’m doing well today.”

If I tell you that Mr. Carlos is a professional bodybuilder, it should give you a general idea of what he looks like. He’s Brazilian, 36 years old. He has dark skin and he’s about as tall as Thomas, so around 1.80 meters tall, maybe a bit more, yet his build was about three times that of Thomas. His arms and legs were thick like tree trunks, his figure was a massive inverted triangle without looking… How do I say it? Grotesquely muscled. He wore a black tank-top and red shorts that reached just above his knees. He fully shaved his head and kept a thin mustache.

“That’s good to hear. And going at it already, huh? Do you need a spotter?”

I nodded. “If it’s not a bother, sir.”

“Please.” The man let out a hearty chuckle. He stood behind the bench press while I laid back on it, wrapped my hands around the barbell and took a deep breath.

I lifted the bar and fully braced myself for what was to come.

“COME ON! DO IT! GUTS, OLIVER, GUTS! ONE! TWO! THREE!”

Mr. Carlos’ voice boomed in the large hall. I did my reps with him watching, counting and yelling his encouragement.

We met like a week ago, when he saw me getting ready for the bench press and offered to spot for me, just like he did now. I nervously accepted, and when he started shouting I very nearly dropped the barbell and all 70 kilos on my face from being so startled.

Mr. Carlos then spent the next 10 minutes apologizing with shame written on his face. He explained that his personal trainer did it for him, and that he felt really motivated when he did. Other people he helped seemed to find it encouraging as well, so he assumed it’d be the same for me.

From then on he started greeting me every time. He had almost the same schedule as me, but he didn’t come to the gym on weekends. Those were for his wife and daughter, he said. Mr. Carlos talks a lot. For example, he said he shaves his head and keeps a mustache because his idol is Sergio Oliva, a really famous bodybuilder from Cuba.

I finished my reps, set the bar back where it was and sat up, catching my breath.

“Excellent! Excellent, Oliver!” Mr. Carlos praised. “You even went up 10 kilos from last week.”

“I… thought I could handle it,” I answered with a small smile. “Thank you, Mr. Carlos.”

“Don’t mention it, boy.” Mr. Carlos beamed. “It just makes me happy to see someone as young as you working so hard instead of staying cooped up in your bedroom playing video games.”

I flinched. “I… I do play video games,” I said weakly.

“O-Oh. I see…” Again, shame was written all over the man’s face. “I’m sorry, Oliver. I don’t mean to judge, it’s just…”

“I understand, sir,” I said with a small smile. “Obsessing over things is not healthy, right?”

“Exactly! You understand! Even professional bodybuilders need to take their minds off the workout and live their lives. It’s the obsession that’s dangerous.” The man sighed in resignation. “If only my dear daughter could understand that.”

I hesitated to ask because I didn’t know if it was appropriate, but Mr. Carlos was so willing and seemed so happy to talk about his family that I dared to.

“Is your… daughter obsessed with something?” I asked.

“Her drawings, yes. She’s been spending all her time drawing on her computer. She sometimes forgets to eat and her grades are dropping. She’s in college, you see, moved to an apartment closer to her school, so we can’t keep an eye on her. She’s a fantastic artist, no doubt about that, but to draw so much she forgets to eat…” Mr. Carlos shook his head ruefully.

He seemed like a doting parent.

“Anyway, I’ll stop prattling.” He laughed. “Are you meeting your friends after this?”

“No, I have to go to work.”

“Oh my! You have a job? Where?”

“Maria’s Coffee Shop,” I told him. “I’m a waiter.”

“So hardworking. I was such a lazy bum at your age!” Mr. Carlos laughed loudly. “Well, tell me if you need anything, Oliver. Be careful not to hurt yourself.” The man left to do his own deadlift reps and I went back to my own routine.

************

Chapter 161: Second day of work.

I never enjoyed the act of washing dishes. I was never against it, but I never found it fun like some people claimed. That was until I realized it was a break from having to wait on tables.

Being a waiter was stressful, I had learned. It was nerve wracking and busy. Washing dishes, on the other hand, was quiet and peaceful. A pile of dirty dishes and cups was a welcome sight because it meant I didn’t have to deal with customers and could leave it to my boss for a while.

Pro tip: When you don’t enjoy every second of your job, learn to appreciate the more peaceful moments. It won’t make it all better, but it’ll help recharge your batteries for a moment until your shift ends. That advice comes from older me.

The pile of dishes, however, disappeared as I set the last one to dry. Peaceful times were over.

Maria walked into the kitchen, or more like peeked her head inside. “Oliver, another group came in. Are you done with the dishes?”

“Yes. I’ll see them right away,” I answered.

“Thanks!”

The door to the kitchen was behind the counter. I walked out and saw Maria working on an order for a group of girls from my school. The new group she mentioned was yet another three girls from my school, still in their uniforms. That made it eight customers in the shop right now.

I took a second to brace myself. My heart was pounding already. This was my second day working here, and I still couldn’t fully get used to dealing with customers. That first Saturday, however, was eye-opening in many ways. I felt more ready now than I did last time.

“Welcome to our shop,” I greeted with a small smile. I still remembered Maria’s warning about me frowning too much, but I feared too big a smile would just make me end up looking creepy. Please don’t laugh, but I tried practicing in front of a mirror last night and managed to get something decent. So far, the gentle welcome seemed to be working well.

“Th-Thank you,” one of the girls said, blushing, and her friends giggled to themselves as they took their seats at table six.

The girls looked younger than me. They were from my school, but I didn’t know them. Sophomores, by the looks of it. They shared knowing grins as they looked at me.

I took their orders, now writing them as abbreviations to get it done faster. I wrote them as full words on my first day, and that took a lot of time. Now I was going for something like this:

-T6: Fr.T+Lat; Chck+Moch; Dnt+esp.

That meant: Table six, fruit tart + late; cheesecake + mocha; donut + espresso.

So long as I understood it, it was fine to get weird abbreviations, and it helped save time.

“I’ll be back in a moment, then,” I told them, keeping my formal smile and going back to get the order ready. Even if I didn’t feel it, I had to at least try to look as calm as I could. Remember, people come here to have a relaxing time, not to be glared at.

Maria was going over to table eight with a full tray, so I got the juice and all the pastries ready before she came back to ask her to prepare the coffee. I had learned to operate the machine, but coffee duties were still the boss’.

As I walked with the tray to table six, my ears caught more giggling from table eight. The three girls there were looking at me, too. Ignore, ignore, ignore. Let it get to you and you’re bound to trip, make a fool of yourself, and worst of all, owe Maria for wasted food and broken cups.

I was serving the cups and plates, when one of the girls, the most outgoing of the bunch, apparently, spoke to me with a flirty grin.

“Hey, you go to our school, right? What’s your name?”

I felt my chest freezing and a knot forming inside my throat. It was one thing to greet and thank people, to take their orders and wish for them to enjoy themselves. I could look at it as nothing but business, and that helped me relax enough to get it done. But making conversation with strangers? Nope, still not quite there.

NEVERTHELESS! I couldn’t run away. It wasn’t an option at all. I couldn’t be rude, either, so ignoring them now was out of the question. I had to watch my words. Be polite, smile, act sure of yourself. Fake it until you make it, as they say.

I widened my formal smile just a bit more as I answered. “Yes, I go to the same school. I’m Oliver. If you need anything, just call.”

I gave them a little nod that was just short of a bow. That sent the girls into another giggling fit and allowed me to safely retreat without seeming rude. Once behind the counter again, the tension on my shoulders left. Somewhat. And as I relaxed, I began to think of what I had just done.

That was… good, right? It felt good. I didn’t think I did anything uncalled for, I gave my name in a polite way, I smiled and offered to serve as best I could. But those giggles… Could they have been laughing at me for something weird I said or did?

“Very nice, very nice,” Maria praised me. “You’re handling yourself so much better today. No stuttering, and you have a very nice smile. Yes, keep that up, Oliver.”

A genuine smile crossed my lips as pride swelled inside me. It wasn’t wrong to do that. I’d done well. If I could keep this up, then…

“But you know…” Maria muttered, glancing around at the customers in her  shop. “I didn’t expect it to work THIS well. Word spreads fast.”

The bell at the door rang, and every muscle in my body tensed up again. I turned around to greet our new customer, and all that tension went down the drain when I saw it was Thomas who was coming in.

“Yo!” he greeted me with a big grin and a casual hand wave. “Busy day, by the looks of it.”

“Thankfully,” Maria answered.

“H-Hello, ma’am!”

I held back my snicker. The moment he addressed her, he got all stiff.

“Here to cheer on your friend?” she asked.

“W-Well, yeah,” Thomas laughed. “Never in my life would I have imagined him as a waiter. I can’t help but worry.”

“Have you boys known each other long?” she asked.

“No, not even a year,” Thomas admitted. “But we get along.”

“That’s nice. Well, what will you have?”

“Um… An espresso and some cookies, please.”

“Coming right up.”

Maria went over to the display to gather the cookies for his order, and Thomas’ eyes followed her like they were glued to her.

“Well, that’s an improvement over last time,” I said, grinning and leaning on the counter.

“Shut the fuck up.” He groaned and hid his face in his hand. “I’m here to check up on you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, you don’t believe me, do you?”

“That excuse won’t last you very long.”

“...Have some mercy, man.” Thomas’ shoulders dropped in resignation.

“Sorry, sorry.” I chuckled.

“It’s not that I’m going to… Ugh, it’s stupid, okay? I just… felt like coming here after practice.”

“Thank you for your patronage.”

“I liked you more when you were quiet,” he grumbled and went over to a small table while I laughed.