Changes

Changes.

Are not easy to make.

It’s frustrating, and it takes a lot of hard work and determination. The feeling that you can’t do it anymore is sometimes overwhelming, and you are so tired that you’re determined to quit, telling yourself that at the end of the day, it’s still you. And it’s true, but that you it’s sad and angry on himself, on the world, on everything and everyone.

That’s how I felt when I first started to change. Physically and mentally exhausted.

After two days I gave up, but thanks to my sister and my trainer I didn’t.

Giving up happened every two or three days for one month straight, but every time my sister was there to wake me up at 5 a.m., send my ass to jog, and cheer me up for the rest of the day which consisted in going to the gym and mixed martial arts classes.

At one point I barely moved. Every muscle and every fiber in my body hurt, and I was too exhausted to even sleep.

How did it all start? Well, I didn’t wake up one day and decide that I wanted to look better or be better.

No.

All this frustration has been built over the years. Years of bullying, years of being pushed around, called names, locked up in the janitor’s closet or God knows where else. Years of feeling powerless, useless, and weak.

So, I decided that being my last year in high school, I wanted to spend it in peace. No bullying. And how could I change that?

Easy.

Okay, not easy, but I started doing research. I contacted a nutritionist, hired a personal trainer, and took mixed martial arts classes.

I used to have a normal weight up until my parents passed away in a tragic car accident when they came home from their anniversary dinner 5 years ago. There was nobody to blame. The road was slippery and it just... happened.

But after their death, I started eating less and less. I wasn’t anorexic, I just couldn’t eat. Didn’t have an appetite. And, on top of that, I was always the tallest kid in class. One would think that I would be more intimidating. But no. I was seen as a freak. Tall and skinny. I wouldn’t look at myself in the mirror for more than five seconds, so I couldn’t blame others for seeing me as a freak.

Then, I was forced to wear a dental bracelet, and, from the constant reading, which was my way of escaping reality, glasses came with.

One and a half years ago, I decided to let my hair grow and make a wig for Maria. A 10-year-old little girl who is battling leukemia for 3 years. I met her when my sister broke her leg during her drama class and I got lost as I was looking for her hospital room.

Maria saw me and she grabbed my big hand with her small one. At first, I was confused, but what she told me made my heart break.

“Your hair is so pretty. I wish I had hair like yours.” Her eyes sparkled with hope, sadness, and pain.

She had a hat on, but I could tell that she was bold. Andrea came, her mother, and apologized, but there was nothing to apologize for.

So, after I found my sister and made sure she was okay, I went looking for the little girl and her mom.

We started talking and she told me that it’s hard with all the bills, that the insurance doesn’t cover her treatments and she can’t afford to buy herself a wig, and because of all the stress, her hair was falling, so she decided to shave as well, to make her daughter feel better.

At that moment I knew the fate of my dark brown thick hair. Meanwhile, I bought both of them two wigs but still decided to grow my hair for Maria, since she loves it so much.

Thanks to my parent’s fortune, I was able to help them also financially, even if it took a little begging, pleading, and puppy eyes to convince my uncle to give me the money.

My uncle moved in with us after their death, he took care of us and still does, only that now he’s not living with us anymore. We’re old enough to manage by ourselves, and we proved that to him countless times. So, he’s living in a penthouse near the office building.

The business is equally split between my uncle, my sister, and me, but for now, he’s running the business all alone. But after college, I plan on joining him. My sister changes her life’s plans every other day, so we don’t count on her.

Anyway, 17, long hair, dental bracelet, 6 ft 3, 170 pounds, and glasses.

The perfect target for bullying.

Oh, and a nerd in their opinion. I have straight A’s but not because I bury my nose in the books all day long, but because I have a phenomenal visual memory.

Okay, I bury my nose in the books all day, but in novels. Romance novels.

Yes, I’m a romantic. I’m living my love story through others’ love stories.

“One more thing to do, bro. Are you ready?” My sister says with enthusiasm in her voice while we put the shopping bags in the trunk of my car.

A lot of them. Too many if you ask me.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty exhausted.” Walking around in a mall and buying a whole new wardrobe is not an easy task, believe me.

“There’s no such thing. We have an appointment.” I sigh hard as she grabs my hand, pulling me back towards the mall and into the hair salon to cut my hair. At least I’m gonna sit. Probably take a nap.

My sister showed the picture with the hairstyle that she chose and threatened the lady that if she can’t cut my hair exactly like that, she shouldn’t take the job because if she takes it and it’s not exactly like that, she will cut her hair off.

She can be pretty intimidating at times. She’s also tall, we got that from my father. She’s 5 ft 7, she has a slender body, and her hair is exactly like mom’s. Curly, and a beautiful light brown.

“Ells, stop it and leave the lady alone.” She is one and a half years younger than me, but Lord knows that her mouth is bigger than Everest.

“Okay, fine. I just want it to be perfect,” She complains with a pout, and the lady chuckles.

“I promise that you’ll not be disappointed.” She reassures my sister, who gives her a look that says that until she doesn’t see it she doesn’t believe it.

As suspected, I did fall asleep a few times and the lady kept waking me up because she couldn’t do her job, but it’s not my fault. Besides the fact that I am exhausted from the shopping marathon, the relaxing music that plays in the salon is not helping, either.

“You’re done!” The lady exclaims as she carefully runs her fingers through my hair, making sure that it is perfect.

My sister jumps from her seat and gasps when she sees me, putting her hands over her mouth.

I wasn’t allowed to look at myself until it was over, so I don’t know if I should be panicked or not.

“Perfect!” She beams, and her hazel eyes sparkle as she pulls the towel that covers the mirror in front of me.

My mouth drops open, and my eyes go wide.

“T-This is... me?” I stutter like an idiot, and both my sister and the lady start laughing, while I’m frozen in shock, wondering how the Hell can a haircut change you so much.

The hairstyle fits my face perfectly. Short on the sides and about 4 inches long on top. It’s styled up, but curved a little back, giving it a sense of messy, but on-purpose kind of mess, and, to be honest, it looks...sexy?

“I look good.” The sentence feels unnatural coming from my mouth because honestly, I never thought I’d feel this way about myself.

“Yep. You do!” My sister agrees with a huge smile on her face, and the lady nods, agreeing with both of us.

Damn me!

I paid the nice lady after she taught me how to style my hair and gave me a bunch of products, explaining to me how to use each and every one of them, then I took the hair that I’d turn into a wig and finally headed home.

We took all my new clothes to my room, then went downstairs to the kitchen to eat something.

“So, are you nervous about tomorrow?” She asks, then takes a big bite from her sandwich.

“No. Not anymore. And why should I? I’m finally able to stand up for myself. The bullying is over.”

“Yes, but I’m pretty sure that you’ll fall into the other extreme. Now you’re hot.” I grimace and shake my head.

“Don’t ever say that again. It’s weird.” She laughs, and I can’t help but chuckle. She has the most colorful laughter I’ve ever heard.

“You know what I mean. And I bet nobody will recognize you, so you can start all over.”

“I doubt that, but I won’t change who I am no matter what. I am more confident, I don’t give a fuck what others think anymore because I feel good about myself, but I won’t change into some uptight narcissistic asshole.”

“I know you won’t.” She smiles lovingly, and we finish our sandwiches in silence.

“Well, see you, tomorrow, sis. I’m gonna hit the bed.” I kiss her forehead, then we share a tight hug, as we do every evening.

“Goodnight.”

I go straight to the bathroom to take a shower and take my clothes off, but this time I stop in front of the big mirror that’s hanging over the double sink and examine myself.

It’s like I’m looking at another person. I have about 240 pounds of muscle, and each of them is visible.

I have the pecs, the abs, the biceps, the back muscles, and the neck muscles.

The bracelet is gone and my teeth are straight, white, and shiny. My glasses have been replaced with lenses, and the baby blue eyes that I inherited from my father, are more prominent.

I’m a new man.

A new David.

A/N.

Hi, my sweet readers.

As of today, I'll be updating Changes. I start with the first chapter because I want to edit it, too.

I hope you'll enjoy it.

And for the ones who want to read it faster, and also more of my books, you can go to my Patreon page. It costs less than a coffee to read this story and about 10 others.

www.patreon.com/Francesca2