Chapter 9: The Things I Would Do For My Virginity
Sunlight cut through the thin curtains of David’s cramped bedroom, spilling across the tangled sheets and landing directly on the disaster that was his sleeping form.
He’d gone to bed in nothing but boxers, one arm hanging off the mattress, face half-mashed into the pillow at an angle that couldn’t possibly have been comfortable, body sprawled in a position that looked less like sleeping and more like he’d simply been dropped there from a height. There was, for a while, something almost peaceful about it.
Then the alarm went off.
Ring, Ring, Ring, Ring—
The sound tore through the quiet, relentless, and David’s face scrunched up in immediate, deep offense, like the alarm had personally wronged him. He grunted, low and pathetic, as if sheer irritation alone might will the noise into silence. It did not.
His eyes stayed shut, one hand flailing blindly toward the nightstand, patting around at nothing for several long seconds before finally landing on the phone and jabbing at the screen until the noise cut off.
His arm flopped back down. He lay there a moment, savoring the return of silence, feeling sleep creeping back in at the edges, tempting him to just — sink back under, just for a few more minutes.
It never came.
He lay there anyway, waiting, chasing a feeling that refused to return, until finally the frustration of almost-sleep got the better of him and he shot upright, slamming a hand down on the mattress.
"Motherf—" He didn’t even finish the word, just groaned instead, dragging himself upright properly.
He grabbed his jeans off the floor — the belt still threaded through the loops from last time, because putting a belt on twice a day was a level of effort David simply did not possess — and shuffled over to his wardrobe, running a hand blindly along the row of hangers until he found a plain black shirt and pulled it free.
He stopped halfway into pulling it on, glancing down at himself, and let out a short laugh. ’You wanna dress up without taking a shower?’
If he wasn’t careful, he was going to show up to his first "session" with Holly smelling exactly like he had the first time she met him — soaked through, desperate, and thoroughly unfresh. He tossed the shirt back onto the bed, laughing under his breath at his own past mistakes, and headed for the bathroom instead.
He caught his reflection in the mirror on as he arrived at the sink and immediately regretted it.
He looked less like a man who had just woken up and more like something that had recently been exhumed.
He grabbed his toothbrush, squeezed out a thin worm of paste, and got to work, grimacing slightly at the state of his own breath — the kind that could probably be classified as a biohazard in certain school districts.
He scrubbed with real commitment, determined to erase all evidence of the crime scene currently happening in his mouth, and within a few minutes he’d finished, rinsed, and felt marginally more like a functioning human being.
Brushed. Dressed. Ready.
Only one thing was really driving him forward this morning, and it wasn’t the quest, wasn’t the stats, wasn’t even the five hundred dollars waiting at the end of it all.
"Alright," he muttered to his reflection, pointing at himself with grim, theatrical determination.
"Operation: Sheath My Sword In Holly is officially a go."
With that, he locked his door behind him and stepped out, taking in the view laid out in front of his building — not exactly a pretty one, considering it was mostly a fenced-off stretch of rubble marking where a C-rank dungeon break had torn through the block some time ago.
Still, there was a strange, familiar fondness to it. Ugly as it was, it was his ugly, the backdrop he’d woken up to for years.
He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out the card Holly had given him, squinting at the address printed along the bottom, mumbling it under his breath like repeating it enough times might make the walk shorter. Satisfied he had it memorized, he started forward.
He hadn’t bothered with breakfast — not that there was much to bother with, given the state of his fridge — and told himself it was fine, that he probably didn’t need a big meal before a gym session anyway.
’Real gym guys probably fast before training,’ he thought, nodding along with a logic he was inventing on the spot. ’Yeah. Empty stomach, lean and focused. That’s a thing. That’s definitely a real thing people do and not just me being broke.’
He walked for a while longer, checking the address once more before finally slowing to a stop, glancing up to confirm he’d arrived. And there it was — the gym, sitting right in front of him, its sign lit up in bold, slightly-too-enthusiastic lettering.
BUILD YOUR FUTURE WITHIN GYM.
David stared at it for a solid three seconds.
"...Really. That’s the name. Not ’Iron Temple’ or something.’Build Your Future Within, Gym’ . Somewhere, a marketing intern got paid actual money for that name."
He shook his head, sighing, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. "The things I do for my virginity." he muttered, already knowing how pathetic that sounded out loud and choosing not to care.
With that, he squared his shoulders, pushed the door open, and walked in, ready to begin his hunt.
***
Hey guys, I want to thank you for your support and due to that, I thought of a friendly challenge for both of us.
For every 200 powerstones I’ll release 10+ bonus Chapters...so, if you find it worth while, you can make your decision. Thank you.🫠
