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Costume Party
🕑 Added 2019-10-30 17:00:00 +0000 UTCI was so sick and tired of all these fitness influencers on social media acting like getting fit was easy and that anybody who wasn’t in perfect shape was just lazy. I worked a full-time job and barely found the time to see my friends once a week, let alone get to the gym on a daily basis. They would always pawn off products that didn’t even work and profit off the misfortune of others. As far as I was concerned they were a bunch of entitled brats who were terrified of doing even a single day of honest hard work. They’d won the genetic lottery and were making their money off of being pretty boys, that was it. I was disgusted by the whole thing!
As such, when I was invited to a Halloween party I decided that going as a stereotypical fitness influencer would be the perfect ‘scary’ costume for me. I didn’t look all too pleasant with my belly and sagging pecs pressing out against the tight tank top, nor did the short-shorts exactly make my legs and ass look great, but I was prepared to have some fun and get a few beers down me. It had been far too long since I’d been able to hang out with my friends in a party atmosphere - something those self-obsessed assholes on Instagram seemed to do each and every night. Some people might have said I was jealous of them but I maintained my stance: they were everything wrong with modern society.
As I crossed the threshold into my friend’s house - the party venue of choice - a shiver ran down my spine. I didn’t know exactly what had happened but there was something strange about the entryway, something which seemed to reverberate deep within me. Doing my best to shrug it off, I greeted my friends and made myself comfortable with a beer in one hand and a sprinkle-coated donut in the other. I was a few bites in when my brain reminded me that donuts weren’t exactly part of my diet and I should consider an alternate healthier option instead. Running on autopilot, I discarded the donut into the trash before finally returning to my senses. Since when had I given a damn about keeping a healthy diet? That had been so unlike me - and a waste of a good donut!
Such strange occurrences continued to happen over the next hour so, each one without me noticing until it was too late. I engaged friends in conversation about diets I’d never heard of and the latest football results - a sport I famously refused to follow. My friends seemed just as confused by my sudden interest as I was, although I noticed that some of them weren’t quite acting as themselves either. Tony, a fairly timid guy who had come dressed up as a cop, was getting louder and even barking orders at people, although continued to claim he was just joking around. Joey, a big muscle-bound guy who had been the star of our college football team but never went pro, had arrived dressed as a dalmation and was even drinking from a bowl on the floor, although he always seemed embarrassed in the following moments.
As the party continued I began noticing more and more oddities in not just my friends’ behaviours but also in their appearances. Had Julia always had such big tits and a need to exhibit herself, like a Vegas showgirl she was dressed as? Had Dominic always had long blond hair and spoken in a deep voice with a British accent, like Thor from the Avengers films? My brain was attempting to put the pieces together and work out what was growing on but there was a fog spreading through my mind, preventing the answers from presenting themselves to me.
I should have been concerned - even terrified - of what was happening to us all but I relaxed when I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror and paused for a moment to flex my muscles and check myself out. There was a small voice at the back of my mind telling me that the pretty boy stud smirking back at me wasn’t really myself but what sense did that make? Being anything other than a muscle stud with an internet following and sponsorships from a number of brands felt false. Surely this had always been my life? I could remember getting started on my dad’s weights when I was a teenager, signing my first modelling contract, hitting one million Instagram followers… how could all of those memories be fake?
Shaking off the confused thoughts intoxicating my mind, I grabbed another beer from the fridge - my last one for the night, I told myself - and returned to chatting up a cute nurse with her tits all but hanging out who had been eyeing up my muscles while I flexed in front of the mirror. Not that anyone could blame her, I was a total fucking stud and was reminded of it every time I posted a selfie to my social media accounts. So many thirsty guys and girls desperate for my attention and lining my pockets by using my code to buy products they’re too stupid to know won’t really do anything for them!
Even as I flirted with my new friend though, something continued to bug me, although it thankfully was no longer about a life I didn’t recognize. Instead, it was a simple question: if this was a Halloween party than why hadn’t I or anyone else actually come in costume?
