DAHLIA
“Let me tell you what my life is like now,” said Melissa,
“all thanks to you.”
We had left her suite and were travelling downstairs in the
lift. It had mirrors on every wall, even built into the doors, and gave an
uncanny sense of other dimensions shifting off, endlessly repeating images of
us that slowly curved out of sight. Melissa was facing the door. She didn’t
look my way. I stole glances at her from every angle through the differing
mirrored views.
“Because of your support and this grand adventure we’re on,
I have lost a phenomenal amount of weight,” she said. “I’m almost as slim as
you were when we first met.”
It was true. Her body looked amazing. For quite a long time
now it had looked a lot better: simply exercising constantly had enabled her to
carry the weight better almost from the start. Now she was very shapely and if
anything looked slightly better than I had before we left England.
After all, by then I had let my own weight slip a little
already and hadn’t maintained as intense an exercise schedule as her for some
time: years. Melissa’s developing form was the result of intensive physical
training. And her boobs were a little fuller too.
She didn’t have my facial features (though hers weren’t a
million miles from mine), but she was similar enough in other ways that a
member of the public who followed my modelling career might almost have thought
she was really me – if they were told as much.
“And losing weight is only the start of it,” she said.
“Living here as you; enjoying the life of a wealthy woman; something I could
never have done before; has changed something inside of me. I see myself
differently now. I see a strength and...” She went quiet for a moment. “... a
beauty even, that I never had before. I look in the mirror and I don’t
recognise the incredible woman looking back at me.”
She turned her body so that she stood beside me and put her
arm round my back, gripping the chubby bingo wing on my left arm so that we
were looking at our reflections, pressed side by side.
The sight of it was barely credible and dimly disquieting.
She was taller than me; because of her heels and my flat
working shoes; because my posture was... different: shoulders slumped; back a
little bowed; head lowered. She was so slim and athletic and that gave her a
bearing and confidence that was visibly magnificent. My dark brown hair seemed
almost black in the soft lighting while her lovely golden curls danced about
her face. Her hair had grown massively since we came to Greece. It looked
fabulous now.
And I looked tremendously fat: my stomach rolls; my round,
sagging chin, my inflated bottom and wide hips, the swollen calves, the round
chubby arms. I peered, blinking, through the thick lenses of glasses that
covered much of my face.
I looked so much like the original Melissa now. So much like
her.
“Thanks to your generosity and kindness,” said Melissa, I
feel like a princess. I used to have a drinking problem – did you know that? I
used to drink all the time, just to dull the ache I felt from living my life;
from looking the way I did.” She grinned. “Not anymore. Now I have it under
control. I still drink but only for fun. You don’t know how different that
feels. It’s wonderful!”
She hugged me tighter. I said nothing, only smiling a
little.
I felt comforted to hear this; to know that she was happy;
but I also felt strangely awful and I didn’t know quite why. This had been my
choice. It was what I wanted. Why should I feel bad now that I was so close to
achieving my outlandish dream?
“I’m so grateful to you,” she said. “So grateful that you
gave me the chance to live your life and find out what it’s like. I love it so
much.”
She stopped speaking but I sensed there was more she wanted
to say. Her eyes clouded and she said nothing. She released my arm and stepped
away. I was going to ask her what was wrong but the lift dinged and the doors
opened.
Melissa strode out without a glance to see if I was joining
her. I scurried after her. I was going to catch up and walk alongside her but
that felt wrong. Despite everything I knew about our true pasts, there seemed a
gulf between us now that I... didn’t want to close; that I liked. This was what
I wanted, wasn’t it? I wanted to be subservient to her; to feel as though she
was the wealthy lady and I the portly cleaner with dowdy clothes and hair and
thick glasses.
It was my dream come true; or almost. We weren’t quite the
same shapes as our opposite had started. The way she was viewed compared to me
was startling. It had been a long time since we had appeared together among
other people and it was astonishing how differently we were treated now. Men and
women openly admired Melissa as she strode proudly along, chin up, apparently unaware
of the adulation. Her stride was long and measured. The hotel staff nodded deferentially
as she passed but she ignored them.
To me they were openly disdainful, sneering in my direction as
I glanced shamefully at them. Everyone we passed either ignored me completely or
gave me some grimace of disapproval or derision. And my footsteps were shorter than
hers, my pace more laboured with my greater mass. I had to hurry to keep up, frequently
speeding up to match hers
Melissa seemed unaware of me now; totally dismissive of my presence,
and I started asking myself if she meant for me to follow or if she had dismissed
me without even bothering to address me directly. She had been so open and kind
in the lift but immediately upon stepping outside, the wall had come down and I
was only her underling; largely beneath notice and only worth contempt.
It was horrible; almost a betrayal; and yet it made me feel alight
inside, like I craved this desperately; as though this subservience to her and the
pitiful life she had crafted for me were was a dingy hell and her disregard was
something I yearned for: a light I could gaze at in the darkness.
Melissa strode on and I hurried after her.
I wanted her to remember I was there. I wanted her to be kind
to me. But I also hungered after the casual disdain she was capable of showing me.
I wanted her to make me feel pathetic next to her. I wanted to feel as though she
was so much better than me.
