During his hospital stay, a cute man loses an unhealthy amount of weight and discovers that his body is now similar to that of a supermodel. His girlfriend convinces him to join her as an art phony by using his new look.
I didn’t know what to expect when Maxine opened the door to her loft. I hadn’t really thought about it, but there she was, holding it open for me. Her place looked like the hideout of a very stylish, sophisticated thief, who had just robbed a Sanrio store. That is to say, all the furniture was sleek and minimalistic, classy even, but it was piled high with cute Japanese toys. A large window overlooking the arts district dominated the loft’s main room.
I quickly headed for the chair nearest the door, and as I sat down I felt a dull pain where its wooden frame pressed into what was left of my butt. Maxine stepped out to get my bag which now contained everything I owned: 3 pairs of sweatpants, 4 T-shirts, and 4 pairs of non-skid hospital socks. But she quickly put it down when she got back inside. “God John, you look uncomfortable,” she said in a concerned voice. “Wouldn’t you rather lie down on the couch?” I sighed and started propping myself back up, then carefully shifted my weight to my feet, shrugged off Max’s help, and made my way over to the couch.
I lay there, just resting my eyes for a second, and when I opened them again the whole room had gotten dark, Max was in the corner chair playing a game on her iPad. “Good evening Mr. Sleepy, did you have a nice nap?” I looked around, only just aware I had fallen asleep. “Yeah, actually I do feel a lot better,” I said stretching my arms out. “See, just like the doctor said, you’ll be your old self again in no time.
You know you had me pretty worried there for a while.” “You and me both. Hey, thanks for letting me stay here. You didn’t have to do that.” She smiled back at me as though to say yes I did, and said, “Why don’t you hop in the shower, I’m going to order us a pizza, my treat.” “Thanks, I haven’t got any money.” “I know, I know. Things can look pretty dire, trust me. But you’re almost through this, no need to rush, and no worries. You don’t need to keep thanking me. You’ll be alright in no time, once you’re back on your feet, then you can say thank you.” “Okay, well-” She cut me off. “Don’t say thank you.” She made a face like she might smack me if I did, but it was a cute face. “Fine. Just-” She made her “don’t say thank you” face again, this time without uttering a word.
I bit my lips and made my way to the shower. Max popped in and out of the bathroom once while I was in there. I wasn’t sure why until I got out and found all my clothes missing. I wrapped a towel around my privates and passed the running washing machine on my way back to the main room. She looked at me and then at the washer. “Oops!” she exclaimed. “Oops??” I asked. “Oops,” she confessed.
I stood there for a while looking at her until it occurred to her that the problem wasn’t going to fix itself. “Umm, why don’t you go back in there and shave.” she was stalling. “And uhh… when you get done, I’ll have something figured out.” I stared at her coldly. She rolled her eyes at me. “Oh come on, your three-month hospital beard looks pretty scraggly anyway. Best put it out of its misery.” “Fine,” I huffed, though not really mad at her, and went back to the bathroom. “New razors are in the top drawer,” she called out after me. And they were.
They were also pink, the kind of razors girls use on their legs. But once I got over that, one worked just as well on my face as the newest, manliest 12-bladed razor named after an air-to-air missile that money could buy. Max had been correct, my beard was patchy and pathetic. I’d never tried to grow one before my stay in the hospital, and now I was glad to be rid of it. It made me feel almost human again. When I stepped back out of the bathroom, Max was dressed in a pink baby doll nightie, her bare legs sticking out the bottom.
My eyes followed them all the way down to her pink toes. She turned around just as I was picking my jaw off the floor, and exclaimed in as unsure a voice as anyone can exclaim, “Pajama Party!?” Before she trotted over and handed me some pajamas. As I unfolded the faded pink Hello Kitty t-shirt and matching pajama pants, she could see how uncertain I was about the whole affair. I mulled it over in my head for a little while.
If I could get through all those humiliating moments in the hospital, I could get through wearing a pink shirt while my clothes were in the wash. And seeing Max dressed that way, wouldn’t hurt either. “See John, and before you say anything I put on the girliest thing I own in an effort to make those Hello Kitty pajamas, the only thing I own that might fit you, seem more manly.” It was only as she said this half-heartedly, and I could see her looking over my body, that I realized just how skinny I’d become.
I smiled, shrugged my shoulders, and concurred, “Pajama Party.” Before stepping back into the bathroom and pulling the Pink Hello Kitty pajamas over my body, I was completely engulfed in cute Japanese commercialism. The pajamas, if anything, were too loose everywhere except in the shoulders, which fit just a touch to snugly. Three months in the hospital will do that, I sighed and stepped back into the living room.
Max assigned me the task of finding something to watch on TV, which wasn’t too easy because she had all the channels, and all the internet services as well. I had just typed “Sci-fi comedy” into the search box when the doorbell rang. Max made an annoyed face, “I forgot about the pizza guy.” Looking down over her own body, just then realized how promiscuously she was dressed. “I don’t suppose I could get you too” She looked over my pink hello kitty-clad body and said, “Oh never mind.” The pizza delivery boy was a pimply-faced sixteen-year-old boy, who stood about 2 inches shorter than Max’s 5' 9" frame. I heard him take a step back when Max opened the door in her nightie, and she responded with a case of giggles.
The boy was obviously intimidated, and Max found that hilarious. Once they had completed their transaction and the boy turned to leave, I remember him saying very distinctly, “You girls have a nice night!” Max slammed the door behind him and turned back at me, letting out a giggle fit. “Ha ha! He thought you were a girl!” she said in a playful mocking tone. “Yeah, you noticed that too, did you?” “Oh come on, what’s wrong with that?” “As if I couldn’t feel any lower, I mean look how skinny I am.” I held one of my biceps between my thumb and forefinger to illustrate. “So, eat some pizza,” she said handing me a slice. “Besides it’s better to be a man that looks like a woman, than a woman that looks like a man.” “How do you figure that?” “Well, we are the fairer sex, aren’t we?
Only an unusually pretty man can look like a woman, whereas, it takes an ugly woman to look like a man.” “So you’re saying I’m a pretty man?” “Well, yeah you are aren’t you?” “I’d rather be handsome.” “Pretty is better than ugly isn’t it?” “True, just I’m not feeling really good about my body right now. I’m like a ninety-eight-pound weakling.” Max sighed, “Well at the risk of making you feel worse, I kind of think you’ve got the waify body of a supermodel right now. You’re not really ninety-eight pounds are you?” “No, but I’m not much better than that. I’m down to one eighteen with clothes on.” “Look, don’t worry about it.
You’ll be back to normal before you know it.” “Wait a minute, Did you mean a boy supermodel or a girl supermodel?” “Well, there are a few boy models that model women’s clothes.” “Great, just great.” “Plus with three months’ worth of growth to your hair, you know you do look kinda cute. If you’d smile once in a while.” I nervously started twirling my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, It needs to be cut doesn’t it?” “John, that’s not my point.
My point is that if being sick and going to the hospital, makes you look like a little girlie for a while, who cares? I mean it’s a temporary thing right?” “Are you saying I should start wearing dresses?” “I’m just saying if I had to look like an attractive man for a little while, I’d try to make the most of it. Hell, it might even be fun.” “You really think I look like an attractive woman?” “Well, I think you would. Half of its makeup anyway,” she started smirking. “And yeah your body would look killer in my silver dress.” “Stop making fun of me.
I would not look good in your dress.” “It’s not you it’s the situation. And yes you would.” I looked her square in the eyes. “No, I wouldn’t.” She arched one eyebrow. “Yes, you would. That sounds like a challenge.” “Not gonna happen.” “It has to now. We’ve built it up too much,” she said heading for her bedroom. “Oh no, it” I was cut off when she flung the silver dress in my lap. “Oh no no no.” She teased, “Don’t be such a baby. It’s manlier than pink hello kitty pajamas. Just think of it as a really long shirt.” “Alright fine, just to see how it looks.” She nodded.
I struggled to get the t-shirt off at first, but then Max lost her patience and helped pull it off of me. I was going to leave the pants on, but when I stood up Max pulled them off my waist and let them fall to my ankles. And for the first time in three months, with me standing there in my shorts, and Max in her nightie, I began to become aroused. Max paused for a second when she saw my pants tentpole, then she pretended not to notice and lifted the silver satin up to me.
Her hands touched me through the material. They brushed against my sides as she pulled it over my body. The smooth silver fabric felt electric against my skin. “You look pretty good to me,” she said motioning toward a mirror. And she was right. The long lines of the dress made my torso look even thinner, and like she had said, waif-like. I stood there staring at myself as Max teased my hair into a more feminine style.
I managed to stammer out, “See I look as macho as ever, practically like Bruce Willis.” She brushed her hand against the side of my face. “More like Milla Jovovich if you ask me.” “Now you’re just teasing me.” “Maybe, I mean I was, but now that I look at you, you do have to agree that you do look more like Milla than Bruce.” “Fine, then I know what we’re watching,” I said and started streaming The Fifth Element. About halfway through the movie, the dryer finished, so I got up and put on my sweats. At about that same time, Max got up, grabbed her iPad, and continued to glance at it during the rest of the movie. I would have gotten up and looked over her shoulder to see what was so interesting, but I really didn’t have the energy, as my body still needed a few weeks to recover.
A few times I caught her glancing over at me, looking at me, without trying for my attention. Once the credits were rolling, I turned down the volume and noticed Max still at her iPad. “You playing a game or something?” She looked up “No, I was just curious so I was checking on something.” she got awkwardly quiet. I didn’t know if she wanted me to ask about it, or if she was trying to drop the subject. She looked at her iPad, glanced over my body, and looked at my face for a second, before closing it up. “Come on, now you’ve got me curious.” “I don’t know if you’d want to know.
I mean maybe you would.” “What are you kicking me out or something?” “Oh no, geez I was just looking up male models, who crossdress. Now are you happy?” “I guess I shouldn’t have asked, well?” She shrugged and tried to speak nonchalantly, “Nothing, just I think you could pull it off.” she bent down beside me and showed me a picture of a rail-thin boy with long feminine hair, in tight-fitting jeans and a jacket. “See not so much a drag queen thing, more the androgynous look.” she scrolled down to show a picture of the same boy in a dress, then in the next picture he was wearing high heels and dark red lipstick. “If I’d seen the final picture on its own I would have thought he was a woman,” I said. “Yeah, well I was just curious.
Plus he still makes a super hot guy,” she flipped back up to the first picture. “Anyway, I need to get some rest.” And with that, Max helped me back to the bedroom. She had moved her own things into the office/workshop, stating she’d rather have free access to her work than a comfy bed she’d feel guilty about taking anyway.
Over the next few days, Maxine worked out of her loft while I tried to get alternating periods of exercise and rest. She ran a design studio out of the loft, specializing in custom high-tech interactive environments. Mostly home theater rooms, but occasionally things like dressing rooms or kitchens. She actually worked with a supplier in Korea that had most of the electronics premade. She was more of an interior designer working on giving them flair and fitting them into people’s homes. She only had a few clients, geeks, but they were rich geeks and she was at least breaking even. I’d try to stay out of her way whenever she had clients over, read quietly in a corner, or take a nap.
After a few days, I was feeling strong enough that I’d started taking short walks around the neighborhood. On the way back from one of my walks, I found two of her potential clients out back, smoking and discussing whether or not to use her. In the end, they decided against it and decided to go with another firm instead. I hadn’t been in, so there was no reason they’d recognize me, and I heard them calling her with their regrets as I brushed by them towards the elevator.
I had been prepared to comfort Max, and half expected to see her crying when I got back inside, but she looked more annoyed than anything. “Well, did you at least overhear why? Am I charging too much?” she asked. “No, actually they thought you would be a better deal value-wise. And I think they liked your design.” “Then what was it? Did I offend them or something?” “No, but” “But what?” “But they kept referring to you as ‘this girl’. ‘This girl’ has good prices, etcetera, like they didn’t know your name.
They seemed really excited about the other designer like it was a status symbol or something.” “I just wish I knew what I was doing wrong, but you can’t really ask your clients why they didn’t pick you. Wish I knew who they were going with.” “Oh, that’s easy. I think they said some guy named Vanders, Seth Vanders, I think.” “Never heard of him.
His name sounds like Darth Vader’s redneck cousin.” “Why don’t we go check him out? We could say we wanted to hire him. Make believe like we’re potential clients or something.” “What would we say if he wants the job?” “We’ll just tell him we decided to go with you instead.” Vander’s studio was in what looked like an abandoned building in the old industrial district. As we approached the building we heard the buzzing of power tools, mixed with intermittent hammering. “Are you sure we have the right place?” I said pointing to a “beware of dog” sign. “Yes, when I talked to his agent on the phone, she told me about that. She said he doesn’t have a dog he just doesn’t like solicitors but that clients are welcome.”
“He’s got a funny way of showing it,” I said pointing to the no-trespassing sign below his call box. Max pushed the buzzer, and a few seconds later the noise of the power tools stopped. We heard an incomprehensible voice come over the intercom and were buzzed in. Vanders turned out to be a bit of an eccentric. He ran his studio out of a previously abandoned warehouse in the industrial district. After the meeting, Max and I went down to the park and sat on a bench overlooking the reservoir to talk about it.
Max looked annoyed. “So what did you think?” I asked. “Well his designs are crap, I mean at least I think so. I’d hate to be wrong about something like that.” “I’m no authority on these things, but yeah I do like your stuff better.” “But then why is his stuff selling so much better than mine?” I started to respond, but then closed my mouth, I didn’t think Max was going to like what I had to say. “Oh come on John, just spit it out,” she said poking me in the shoulder. “It’s just that Vander’s is eccentric.” “And I’m not?” “It’s just that he’s ahh, eccentric in a more ahh, grown-up way,” I said and squeezed my eyes shut in anticipation of a severe poking. When one wasn’t forthcoming, I opened my eyes to see Max looking at me, not upset, but excitedly interested, so I continued. “He’s got a mysterious Eastern European Accent, and you have a lot of Hello Kitty.
He seems obsessed almost tortured by his work, whereas you, you seem calm like it’s something you’ve done a million times before. People want their artists crazy, working on a level they couldn’t understand, you know, to impress their friends.” Once I’d finished she turned away and quietly watched the sun starting to go down, its bottom edge clipped by the tops of skyscrapers. “Mind if I ask you something? Something about the you-know-what?” she finally spoke in a soft voice.
I sighed, “Go for it. It’s okay.” “It’s just that the whole time I never once heard you complain, or show any fear. Why not?” I sat and watched the sun go down a little while longer, “I suppose it’s because, by the time I could speak again, it was all over. But don’t think I wasn’t afraid.
The most scared I’ve ever been was when I was struggling to take each breath, you know how sometimes you make yourself breathe, and sometimes it just happens? Well the moment between when I couldn’t make myself breathe, and when my body started breathing on its own, that was the darkest I’ve ever been.” I felt her fingers intertwine with mine, and we watched the glare of the sun go quiet behind the city’s jagged edges.
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