Based on a not true story (Patreon)

While not specifically a Halloween tale, this one is inspired by a somewhat-scary movie (that is based on a book). Hoping to have it up before the end of the month. Can you guess which flick was in my head as I wrote this?

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Nolan saw the first one on the hotel elevator. Tall, black suit, face like a brick - the kind of face people called a mug. Nolan assumed the guy was security; he certainly had the build for it, with shoulders so broad that no one else could stand beside him in the elevator.

But then Nolan started seeing more and more guys like that. They weren’t clones of each other - in fact, most of them didn’t look alike - but after a couple days at the hotel, he could pick one out instantly. A suit was the biggest giveaway, and it was always a nice suit, one that was perfectly tailored and looked expensive as hell. The man inside the suit always looked strong, in one way or another: even if he had a belly, or if he was old, none of the suit guys looked like they were skipping the gym. The strength showed in their faces too. A lot of them were classically handsome with sculpted features, but even the ones who weren’t still carried themselves with confidence. Even if the man was bald or had a big nose, it somehow worked for him.

The biggest one Nolan saw was at breakfast by himself, wearing a full suit at 8 in the morning. He looked like a bigger, younger Dave Bautista, with groomed stubble and slick hair like a stockbroker. Nolan didn’t want to gawk, but he’d never seen so much muscle on a person. Not even the layers of the man’s suit could hide his size and definition, and when he leaned back in an early morning stretch, the top half of his shirt burst open and didn’t even merit a reaction from him, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to let your pecs hang out at the breakfast table. They were still bulging out from his shirt when he met two other suited friends, shaking hands and talking business over coffee.

That was another thing all the men did: talk business. Whenever Nolan overheard a conversation, it was always about budgets, or the stock market, or key performance indicators, or a story involving a boardroom. For men at a nice hotel, they didn’t appear to be doing much relaxing. Just work, and talking about work. Nolan saw a couple of them by the pool - two bodybuilders standing under the afternoon sun in full suits - and overheard part of their discussion: debates over which hair product provided the best hold, and where to buy the best pocket squares.

One person who was not concerned with such things was the guy sitting under a cabana next to the two hunks. He had to be the palest person Nolan had ever seen - the same shade as the cream-colored cushions surrounding him. Everyone else around the pool was stretched out to tan, but the pale guy was fully hidden from the sun, white-blonde hair dangling in his eyes as he tapped away on a laptop. Every now and then, he’d look over in irritation at the two men. It wasn’t long before he gave up trying to work, closing his laptop and shuffling back inside the hotel. For the brief moment he was standing, Nolan noticed two things about him. One, he was so white he literally glowed in the sunlight. And two, the size difference between him and the two suited businessmen was astonishing. They both towered over him and were at least three times his width, if not more.

After a leisurely swim with as much eavesdropping as he could get away with, Nolan toweled off and headed back inside to go to his room. The elevator doors were about to close when a pale hand stopped them, and in walked the blond guy from the cabana. The two young men briefly made eye contact, so Nolan instinctively muttered “Hey” while the other guy just nodded.

“Weird how those suit guys are everywhere, huh?” Nolan said as the elevator began its ascent.

“Huh?” The blond guy took out one AirPod. Nolan hadn’t noticed they were in.

“Those guys in suits. Just weird how many of them there are.”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s like a convention or something, I saw a sign somewhere.”

Nolan got the impression the guy wasn’t keen on small talk, but it was either keep the conversation going or stand in awkward silence. He opted for the former. “Well, I’m glad there’s someone else my age here. I’m Nolan.”

“Marshall. They’re fucking annoying.” Marshall rocked back and forth on his heels, staring at the wall instead of making eye contact. “They talk too loud and take up too much space. The kinds of douchebags I avoid.”

“So I take it you’re not a Finance major,” Nolan joked.

“I’m not going to college. I just want to make stuff.”

“Make stuff?”

“Like, edit videos, take photos.”

“Oh, cool. I’m planning to be a teacher.”

Marshall nodded politely as the elevator dinged and he stepped off. “Have a good one,” he said, vanishing down the hall. Nolan rode up two more floors to his family’s room, wondering if he was the weird one or if Marshall just wasn’t great at conversation.

The elevator doors opened and there stood a Black bodybuilder in a white dress shirt and pinstripe trousers, his suit jacket slung over his arm. He smiled at Nolan as he dabbed at his bald head with a handkerchief. “Afternoon, young fella,” he said as he allowed Nolan to pass.

“Hi,” Nolan said, squeezing by. He looked in astonishment at the man’s arm being choked by his shirt sleeve, the buttons ready to pop off over his enormous chest. How did all these guys get so big?

But then the elevator shut and Nolan was alone again. He thought about asking his aunt and uncle if they knew anything about the bodybuilding businessman convention, but that would probably just make them think he was gay, so he let it slide.