Hot Pickle - J.J. Knight Page 0,10

this is nothing.

We move forward, and the stage comes into view.

A young man easily five years younger than me walks confidently out and waves at the crowd. At this point in the competition, we don’t get our own music for each routine, so he waits for the right moment to start morphing into the mandatory poses.

He shifts a little fast for me, so maybe his nerves are showing. I remind myself to take it easy and slow and use up every second of my allotted time.

He heads to the far side of the stage, where he’ll remain while the other competitors take their turn. That’s the tiring part, holding position for as long as it takes until all the bodybuilders have posed. It does not pay to be first.

We go up another step.

I’m ready for this.

I can see one side of the crowd, at least the edges where the lights don’t blind me. A woman catches my eye. She’s somewhat indistinct, but her high ponytail swings when she turns. Is it Camryn? I can’t be sure, and I wonder if she’s out there watching.

My cock stirs lightly, and I immediately switch gears. No thoughts of that woman. None. For some reason, she’s my erectile kryptonite.

The competitor in front of me heads out on stage. I let out a rush of air, trying to relax. It’s only my first show. What happens here affects nothing.

I watch the man move through his poses, too fast, too sloppy. He steps aside without even doing his final pose. I kind of feel bad for him. It’s a lot of work to screw up at the end.

My turn. I stride across the stage with a smile and a wave. A shout of “Knock ‘em dead, Max!” from the audience tells me Franklin is out there.

I move straight into my first pose, letting it settle before shifting to the next.

My routine is well-practiced, almost muscle memory, and the rhythm of the music is perfectly timed. I turn my back to the audience and pull out my lats, and more cheers go up than I expect from a single friend in attendance.

That’s good. I turn and finish out my poses with another wave and a smile, then take my place near the back center, as the right side of the stage is almost full.

Also good. Being in the center is always where you want to be.

The next fifteen minutes are a blur. I focus on light flexing, good posture, solid poses as the attention shifts to the rest of the competitors.

They fill in the other side, near the back to avoid blocking the entrance to the stage.

Then everyone’s done, and it’s time for the comparison round.

We line up, and I naturally fall near the center due to my placement. A couple of the bodybuilders jostle, trying to get a prime position. Some seem to care a lot about who they’re standing next to.

I realize I haven’t assessed the others to determine whether or not it’s advantageous to be compared to one or the other, but the amount of shifting to avoid being next to me tells me I might be the man to beat.

That’s surprising.

We all stand facing front, arms relaxed so our symmetry can be judged, until a man on the microphone starts re-arranging us.

“Twenty move next to seven. Thirteen next to five.”

I’m not asked to move, but then, I’m already in the center.

“Everyone step back. Four move forward. Sixteen come forward. Three come forward.”

Then I get a surprise.

“Eleven, step forward. Next to four.”

I have a callout. It’s the best sign that I’m a contender. Franklin’s going to piss himself. He didn’t get a callout until his fourth show.

The disembodied voice calls out various poses and quarter turns. I move to the instructions and take a quick glance at the men at my right and left. I have no way of competing against them. They are polished, confident, and roll through the poses as if they were born doing it.

Still, I’m here.

At last, we’re sent off stage, and I’m free for several hours until the evening show.

When I return to the open room to fetch my gym bag, Franklin is already there. “Max, you crushed it. You were in the last four. You could place!”

“You think so?” I slide on my jacket and zip it up. “How did you do?”

“I got a callout. So, who knows, maybe we’ll both take home something big and shiny.” He smacks me on the back. “Looks like Camryn fixed you