Seanday Startup: The Front, pt3

*Read part one and part two here*

The teenager turned and looked at me, "See you later Jason." I did a double take, as he went into the elevator.

Marcus met me inside, and I hooked a thumb at the door. "That kid, was that someone wearing a suit?"

"Yes, he's here to do some business. He's a very-very old customer. But before this prospective partner of yours arrives follow me."

He led me into the locker room and handed me the basket with my own clothes inside. "Take off Garrett, I'll wear him for the meeting. It'll be easier to talk."

Caption This (1st Aug)

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IN THE COMMENTS

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**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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Seanday Startup: The Front, pt2

*Read part one here*

I felt someone, heard someone. "Come on, wake up big guy. It's not that bad." With a groan I turned over and looked. It was Marcus, or at least the muscled hybrid I'd met a while ago. "The first time stings like shit," he told me.

He wasn't kidding, but it was more like having my head and mind turned inside out. "What the fuck was that all about?"

"Can't you work it out? Can you feel it?"

"What are you talking abo--

The realisation hit me hard, I wasn't alone in my head. "Oh Christ, what is that?" I asked.

"That, my friend allows you to act like someone else. As a matter of fact--Garret."

I looked at my reflection. "Garret Williams," I replied in a quiet voice. Smiling I pushed back my hair, "Garret." It was quite mesmerising as I flexed and twisted.

"Com'n, let's get you ready to meet a big new world."

Caption This (25th Jul)

(1) NEW STORY IN THE COMMENTS

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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Guest Post: Hard Work Pays Off

by Erick S.

“Am I ready yet?” Tyler asked with that ever-hopeful tone to his voice. 

He lifted one arm above his head, flexed his bicep, and tensed his abs. He pulled the waistband of his workout shorts down just a bit so I could get a better view of his progress.

“Hmm…” I circled him as he dutifully held his pose, “I’m not quite sure, Tyler. Have you been working hard?”

This was the little game we played after each of his workouts. He didn’t know today was the day it was finally going to happen.

“Oh yes!” he responded, “I’ve been working really hard! See?”

He changed his pose for me, this time another classic bodybuilding pose, his torso slightly twisted, his pumped-up arms tucked away to the side, and his chest proudly puffed up in front of him.

“And you’ve been taking all of your supplements?” I asked, still slowly circling him, taking a look at every detail.

“Yes!” he answered back, “Every morning, every afternoon, every night. Supplements help me grow!”

“That’s right,” I smiled. He really had been an excellent student, “You’ve done a very good job, Tyler. Do you remember how you looked before we met?”

I could see the poor little wheels in his head trying to spin, trying to think back to when he’d first answered my ad for a roommate in my apartment close to campus. He was a pretty unassuming guy back then. A blank canvas, really.

Seanday Startup: The Front, pt1

"I like the idea, targeted personal training. It's a demographic that isn't saturated," Marcus said with a nod after looking at my business proposal. "This is very impressive, how old did you say you was?"

"I didn't," I replied. "But I'm nineteen."

"Do you have anyone in mind to run this business?"

"I'm going to be running it. I've studied the market and know how to get the clientele."

Marcus sucked on his lip. "Jason, I'm damn good at marketing. Built my own business over the past fifteen years, but not even I can sell your preppy, just out of college image to the people you're aiming at."

I looked down at my smart, but casual attire. "But--"

"Jason, it's not just your clothes. I think you should get someone more appropriate for the market to front the company."

"This is going to be my company," I said in a raised voice. "There's only going to be one person at the top, and that's me."

"Ok, well I've got a suggestion," he pushed a business card towards me, "meet me here at nine tomorrow."

I looked at the card, Brunswick-Atlas, Social Engineering Specialists.

Caption This (18th Jul)

(4) NEW STORIES IN THE COMMENTS (MINE)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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Seanday Massacre 6/6: Camouflage

I laid in wait, time had no meaning to me in this Earth world.

It didn't take me long to understand their culture. Everything appears to circle just a few things; money, power and the way they looked. None of these interested me, I only needed somewhere secure and warm.

I'd found myself in a gym. A place where people spent money to inflict pain and stress on themselves in the hope to improve the way they looked.

My species were masters of camouflage. We were a bio-gel organism, able to change our colour and surface texture. This supplemented with our ability to change our mass made us very hard to find.

At the moment I was spread across the floor of the locker room, expertly imitating its tiled surface. Many had walked across my back, none realised they were having a close encounter.

I felt a familiar weight, and gait as someone walked across the room. He sat on a bench, and I felt this was the time.

Seanday Massacre 5/6: The Switch

I felt swamped in darkness, I blinked open my eyes and the world around me swirled in a sea of colour and light. Retching, closed them again and dropped cross legged on the ground. Daring a look, only pulled the air from my lungs, and turned my stomach. I dropped my hands to the ground to steady myself.

What the hell was going on? I hadn't been drinking, I thought again--no, nothing. Colours and light were bleeding through my eyelids. Reaching up I desperately tried to blot it out with the heels of my hands, I pushed them back to run my hands through my hair and knocked something to the ground, "Damn, my cap." With eyes still squeezed closed I patted the ground around me. "Got it," I muttered and pulled it back on my head.

With shoulders hunched and my hands in my lap I took a deep breath. I really didn't know where I was, or how long this psychedelic blindness would last.

There were noises, voices, I realised. "Hello?" I said in a loud voice, "Who's there? Where am I?" The sounds continued all around me, but nobody answered my pleas.

A feeling of hopelessness, crept over me like a dark shadow. From the noise around me I heard a distinct voice, something that rang familiar. "I think I've found him, over there!"

"Hello?", I called out.

"Found him, he looks in poor shape though. We need to get him somewhere quiet."

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a warm breath on the side of my face. "Don't worry you're going to be OK."

"I can't open my eyes," I tried to explain.

"OK, it might be a side effect. Keep them closed." I felt a hand. "Let me take you somewhere quiet and a little darker while we figure this out."

I struggled to my feet with the help of my unseen guide. We started to walk, and I stumbled a few times only to be steadied by my new friend. "You're doing fine, just keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them." I nodded my head.

Seanday Massacre: Breath

I hope you're enjoying the stories, I've put a lot of effort into them over the past week. How about showing which ones you like by voting them up?

Seanday Massacre 4/6: The Taste for More

I turned the key in the locker and opened the door. Glancing around, I pulled out the rucksack--I heard a familiar clink from inside. Slinging the bag over my shoulder I made my way to the restroom next to the lockers.

I locked myself in a stall and pulled open the bag. With a clink-clink-clink I thumbed through its contents and pulled out a white ceramic mask. I checked its outer surface, it was about the size of a dinner plate although convex in shape. Indentations and bumps suggested where the features of a face might be found. Its inner surface was ashen grey, at the top where you'd expect the forehead was a metallic strip, the name "Ryan Arthur McKenzie" floated in blue above its surface--my name. This was my mask.

Offering it up to my face, I took a deep breath before pushing it home. My world went dark.

----

I woke and grunted with a start as the mask hit me in the balls. I managed to catch it before fell to the floor. I'd done this many times, putting on my own mask refreshes the band inside with my recent memories. Similarly anything new in the mask's band updates my own memories.

Reaching into the bag, I pull out another mask. Externally it looks the same, but the interior surface is a cool blue. The new mask is blank, the band on its inner surface only shows the intricate runes carves in its surface.

Sitting, I bide my time, things have been getting heated at home and I really needed a break. It's got to a point were I'm not really bothered who it is, well, I keep telling myself that, but I know its not true.

I hear the door open, and I sneak a look. He's taking a piss; he's wearing a pink polo shirt, blue shorts and a reversed ball cap. He's got black collar length hair, strong shoulders and back. I chuckle a little, your stereotypical frat jock. "You'll do fine," I whisper to myself.

Seanday Massacre 3/6: No Substitutions

Shit, this workout was hard, but I was really seeing the gains. I slapped my pecs one at a time and then flexed for the mirrors. "Not bad," I muttered to myself.

In the locker room Rex--the gym owner--walked over. "You want to help out with the stand at the expo?"

"Can't sorry. But I know someone looking for work. Is there any money in it?"

"$60, but we need him over tonight to help setup the booth and then hand out flyers tomorrow."

"You know Daniel?" I asked.

"The guy you share the house with?"

"Yeah, I'll send him as soon as I get back." I replied.

I showered slowly, taking the time for my muscles to recover--so relaxing. It was two in the afternoon by the time I'd sorted out my kit and started to drive home. I had to cut my workout short today, I would normally be leaving the gym around four but I had a lot scheduled for the afternoon.

I'd only been driving for a few minutes before I received a message with a picture, and almost hit the car in front when I saw it. Pulling over I waited for the inevitable call.

The phone rang. "Hi," I answered. "Calm down," I replied to the irate client on the phone. "The picture was taken at the club? Just forty minutes ago?" I covered the handset and cussed under my breath. "Yes, yes. It was me. Everything was cool." I hated lying. "I understand your concern and to show good will I'll discount the work by $5k." There was silence, and then they agreed on the compensation. I told him I'd call in a few days, and hung up. Anxiously I checked Instagram, and then smashed my head on the steering wheel in frustration, "Why?" My blood was boiling as I continued my journey. I knew exactly what had happened.