"Huh?"
Kevin looked a bit bewildered by Shane's comment.
"Your layer of blubber has been cultivated to perfection."
Shane began to look Kevin up and down. Right now, Kevin looked like a slab of pork belly waiting to be reshaped.
"Anyway, before I head home, find some time to come to the back. I need to measure your current stats and gather some 'before' footage. We officially start training tomorrow, so your good days are over."
Kevin's expression twisted into a knot. There was resignation on his face, a bit of mourning, but mostly anticipation.
He set down the glass he was wiping, lifted his shirt, and patted his belly, his tone actually sounding a bit reluctant to part with it.
"So soon? Actually, I kinda don't want to train anymore. I feel like I've become best buds with it. It's been keeping me company all this time, even blocks the wind for me."
"Then say goodbye to your buddy, because it's about to get burned off."
Shane ruthlessly cut off his thought of retreating.
"Thank—God."
V cut into the conversation. She reached out and pinched the soft love handles at Kevin's waist hard, making Kevin yelp in pain.
"I swear, if he gets any fatter, I'll have to sleep sideways just to fit in the bed."
"Your snoring at night is louder than an engine. You turn over and the mattress screams in agony. My first thought waking up every day isn't 'Good morning,' it's 'Why is there a human Michelin Man lying next to me, and one that looks like he's about to blow a tire?'"
V rolled her eyes so hard they almost hit the ceiling.
As soon as her voice fell, the patrons in the bar erupted in laughter, and someone even whistled.
Kevin's face couldn't hold up anymore. He tried to defend his dignity.
"Hey, hey, hey, baby, give me some face, okay? This fat is a middle-aged man's substance, got it? You could starve me for a week right now and I wouldn't die."
"Face?"
V pointed her finger directly at his T-shirt, which was already stretched tight.
"I think your 'face' needs its own separate chair to fit right now."
Facing V's aggressive pressing, Kevin got anxious and blurted out, "But a few days ago you said holding me was comfortable."
V looked up at him and sneered.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, very comfortable. The feeling was like hugging a giant bag of rising dough. Just so comfy."
Another burst of laughter exploded around them. Kevin's ears turned red from the roasting, and he could only mutter, "Do you guys have no sympathy at all?"
V turned her head to Shane and asked half-jokingly, "Need me to prep a first aid kit? Or should I pre-dial 911 and have the ambulance wait directly in the back alley?"
"Uh, don't need it for the starting phase," Shane twitched the corner of his mouth.
"But after tomorrow, you need to help supervise his diet. Can't let him eat so happily anymore."
"No problem."
V reached out and shook Shane's hand, then turned back and patted Kevin's belly.
"Hear that? You can eat a bit more for your last supper. Say a proper goodbye to your 'substance,' my Mr. Michelin."
"I'm not Michelin..."
"Then what are you?"
Kevin held it in for a long time before squeezing out a sentence, "I'm a heavy-duty family sofa."
V immediately shot back, "Fine, sofa. Tomorrow you go into the warehouse and let Shane dismantle and reassemble you."
Shane also chimed in at the right time, "Come tomorrow at the time we discussed. No dawdling, no complaining, got it?"
Kevin raised his hands in surrender directly. "Okay, okay, okay... but those stats you measure, don't say them out loud in the bar. I still have to survive on these streets."
"Don't worry, I won't put you on blast publicly."
V smiled and added the final blow, "Right, he'll just torture you in private."
Facing V's barrage of attacks, Kevin sighed deeply. "Veronica, you are absolutely the sweetest nightmare of my life."
V smiled. "That's for sure. And I'm also the only angel willing to turn you from fermented dough back into a human shape. Be grateful. Go whenever you're free later."
Instructions given, Shane didn't say anything more. He turned, pushed open the warehouse door, turned on the lights, and prepared to record the course.
He was recording a four-week training plan this time, focusing mainly on weight loss and shaping.
These two things were the most mainstream and popular types of fitness courses in this era.
Because in America right now, the overweight and obese population combined accounted for nearly seventy percent of adults.
And his four-week plan, essentially a 30-day training program, priced at $29.99, was definitely competitive. He had even thought of the name: 30 Days to Rob Your Fat.
...
The red light on the camera turned on. Recording started. Shane stood in front of the lens and began to speak:
"Welcome to the South Side Iron Gym. I'm Shane. I know many of you think you can't achieve anything working out at home, thinking without equipment or atmosphere, you definitely won't stick with it. And my 4-week training plan is here specifically to bust those excuses."
Training courses in this era were basically dry lectures, just correcting a few common movements, with almost no interaction with the students.
Unlike later times, where even free livestream weight-loss classes required the hosts to be infectious and passionate to get people to buy in.
So, Shane not only sold the course but also provided an encouraging attitude and virtual companionship, striving to break the screen barrier. Talking didn't cost money anyway.
After the self-introduction, Shane started the basic movements for his first week, such as squats, push-ups, lunges, etc.
After a high-intensity interval, Shane looked at the camera, panting slightly, then picked up a water bottle, took a sip, and spoke to the lens again:
"Alright, let's drink some water. Now, touch your chest. Does it feel like your heart is about to explode? That's right. That proves you hit the spot. Listen, the hard part at the beginning isn't these movements, but making your body, which is used to comfort, remember this uncomfortable feeling. Remember the goal you had when you bought this course, even if it's a joke to others right now."
...
Unknowingly, the first week's training course came to an end. Shane finished the final cool-down stretch, then faced the camera again and said:
"Alright, that's our training course for the first week. Finish it. Don't think about what the next three weeks will be like. Just think about tomorrow—will you still have the resolve to press this play button? I'll be right here, waiting to see how far you can push yourself. Remember, every drop of sweat flowing in our bodies doesn't lie."
After delivering this line, he waited a moment to leave some space for post-production editing, then walked up to turn off the camera.
"Phew~" He exhaled a long breath.
Recording courses required precise movements and fluent expression. He had to demonstrate many contents repeatedly, which was even more tiring than filming his own training videos usually.
He walked to the bench and sat down, unscrewing another bottle of water to drink, letting his heartbeat and breathing slowly calm down.
But Shane didn't rest for long before starting another set of training. Of course, not for recording, but to get his muscles pumped.
Because today he still needed to take a set of personal photos to post on Facebook or Instagram to decorate his social media.
Before he had warmed up for long, Knock, knock, knock.
The other door of the warehouse was knocked on and then pushed open.
It was Karen.