Kelsey took one more look in the mirror.
Flawless.
Everything was picture perfect, camera ready, as always. The natural light streaming into her fitness area was doing her all kinds of favors, playing over the muscles of her lithe, athletic body, bringing the tan out of her complexion, and making her hazel eyes sparkle. Her TikTok and Insta posts were already getting traction, and she smiled as she watched her fans lighting her phone up.
She always posted something for the girls and something for the boys, and she liked the attention equally. The boys couldn't get enough of the posts that you'd expect - barely disguised thirst traps showing off proper squat technique or workout attire that a company had paid her to model. The girls loved the affirmation and encouragement - "Unlock your power, girlie." "A woman's place is in the gym" - and the positive message was driving subscriptions and attendance in her fledgling fitness studio higher than they'd ever been.
Her studio was a point of pride for her - she was soooo glad to be proving her adoring followers right and her doubters wrong. After an initial investment (about half of which was raised in a GoFundMe and was more money than she'd ever seen in her short life), her business was now making her money - enabling her to send her former roommate packing and convert the other bedroom in her apartment into the beautiful fitness space where she could stream or create content. She was fortunate to have her nerdy assistant Eric and sometimes her dad to keep everything straight, because between social media monetization, subletting her studio to wannabe influencers, membership dues, class fees, and all the other "revenue streams" or whatever, it was enough to make her head spin.
Her favorite class to teach she called Stronger Than You Think - an all-female self-defense class that focused on yoga and mindfulness in addition to simple body and strength movements to make women feel the true power inside themselves. She liked it for a bunch of reasons - she got to put pads on Eric and beat him up, it was a great full-body workout, and she was almost always the strongest woman there. She didn't have any background in martial arts or competitive fighting, but she watched enough videos from other influencers that she could put together a pretty thorough class, but apparently none of that mattered to that stupid painter.
Kelsey had been at her studio teaching a section of Stronger Than You Think when out of nowhere, the guy who showed up to paint the renovated media room in the back yelled to her in front of the whole class, "You are going to get one of these women killed - everything you're showing them is either useless or only going to make things worse." The whole room fell dead silent.
She looked him over - probably late 20s, average height, stocky frame. Gross belly fat - it would probably be heinous beer gut in five more years. Very little muscle definition. He'd definitely have trouble running half a mile. It was almost sad - he might look good if he ate better, worked out once in a while, and did literally anything with his reddish-brown hair and beard.
"Like
you
would know anything about fitness," was her reflexive response, which drew a mix of laughter, clapping, snapping, and ooooohs from her students. She loved them - they always had her back.
The fat painter actually laughed in response (the audacity!). "Yeah, you look better in leggings than I would, but I'm telling you - that girl power bullshit is not going to save them from a rapist."
"Some of my students are survivors, you asshole! I help them work through their trauma, and you have no right to come in here and... retraumatize them."
He actually looked chagrined (god, if only someone had been recording), but it only lasted for a second. "Ladies, I didn't know - I apologize. But I really mean it - please do not think this girl has any idea what she's talking about."
Kelsey expected her students to jump in and put him in his place, but the studio was as silent as after his first stupid comment. She gulped, and the best she could come up with was, "I-I could kick your ass..."
"What's your name?"
"It's on the sign, genius - Lifestyles by Kelsey. I'm Kelsey."
"Kelsey, sweetheart, I could toss you all over this room."
"How about if I make you tap out, you tear up the bill for painting the back room?" Kelsey had watched enough fight clips online and had gotten enough practice with Eric that she knew she could lock him in an armbar with ease.
I bet the video would go viral.
It could take her to the next level...
"What do I get if I win?"
"Just getting to touch a woman like me would be a prize for you." That came out weird, and she felt her face get even hotter.
The painter smirked, and suddenly Kelsey felt like she was going to throw up. "There's an idea - you think you can fight off a rapist, and I think I should show you that you can't. Maybe you need a demonstration. A...
complete
demonstration..."
Kelsey couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Ew, gross! Fuck that bill - you'd have to pay my rent for a year!"
"Where do you live?"
"Not my apartment, you idiot! This studio!"
"This place? You're on! I'll try to - ladies, I don't want to retraumatize any of you. If this is
triggering
to anyone, please feel free to leave." No one moved - a mix of curiosity and fear had come over the class.
"I'll try to... have my way with you. If you can hold me off, I'll pay your rent for a year. If you can't, well... all you'll have to do is lie there..."
"You are disgusting."
"Just admit you have no idea what you're talking about."
"You're an asshole! I would-" Kelsey sensed that she was starting to lose the women in her class, and that made her more nauseous than thinking about the painter touching her. "OK, fine! Let's do it. I'll kick your ass and then you'll pay my rent."
"And if I win, I get to fuck you."
Kelsey was speechless at how plainly he put it. After the most awkward silence of her life, she managed to squeak out, "Fine. But you won't."
It had all happened so fast - in the moment, Kelsey never fully considered what she had agreed to, and over the next few days, it seemed like everything conspired to keep her from being able to back out. Her students, and then her followers started messaging her and posting about it. Everyone was buzzing about it - this could be huge for her career. A rep from an actually famous podcast reached out to her asking if she'd consider coming on the show (after the fight, grrr). Maybe worst of all, Eric started working out the details with the painter, whose name was Steve, apparently, and now everything was in writing, signed, and notarized.
For the fight (she still didn't know what to call it - match? challenge?), Kelsey would start at one side of the mat, and Steve would start at the other, closest to the front door. If Kelsey could make it to the front door, she would win - all she had to do was touch it. Steve had five minutes to pin her down and... she couldn't even bring herself to think about it. She just had to keep him out of her. Five minutes, one year's rent paid.
She would be allowed to use anything legal in UFC, and he insisted on holding himself to high school wrestling rules ("I'd cave her pretty little face in if I hit her, and what would be the fun in that?" he'd told Eric.). They'd each wear standard athletic clothing ("No fair wearing something I can't get off."), and she told E to assure him that she'd only wear something from one of her videos, which Steve had made sure to start scrolling through by now.
She could stop the fight at any time and end the challenge by saying "I give up" (Steve had initially suggested "I'm a fraud"), but she'd have to post a video saying that she's a fraud, that she doesn't know what she's doing, that she taught her students garbage and put them in danger. She would also have to
close her studio
, and who knows what she would do after that.
He had produced a clean STD check, as had she, of course, and she was on birth control. Only Eric and her star pupil Nina would be allowed to record, and Kelsey would own all videos. Her favorite students would be allowed to come and cheer her on, and he'd be by himself except for an attorney that Kelsey insisted be a woman - Steve's invoice to paint and the lawyer's bill just about matched, so Steve had joked that he had ended up painting the back room for free anyway it worked out. They agreed to meet at 10:00 on Saturday morning- 12 days after the bet.
Kelsey had made good use of those 12 days - she was already in prime physical condition, and she got in plenty of extra sparring with Eric and a couple of her better students. She had her gameplan all worked out - she planned to end it in just a few seconds. Left to the temple, right to the throat, then sprint past him to the door. She had practiced it a thousand times on Eric. Even when he knew it was coming, she always got past him. If that didn't work, and they ended up on the mat, she would look for the armbar - she knew how to lock it in a dozen different ways, and she'd made Eric tap so many times that she almost felt sorry for him, but like Steve, Eric should consider himself lucky to be touching her. She also had a few surprises just to be safe, and now in her home studio, she knew she was ready.
She got to the studio 30 minutes early to coordinate everything with her team, and she was quickly satisfied that everything was in place for her shining moment. She was wearing a tight black T-shirt, black yoga pants, and black & white sneakers. Her makeup was perfect, and her hair was pulled back into two Dutch braids. Steve walked in at five minutes to ten and asked simply, "Are you ready?" He was wearing a white T-shirt, red athletic shorts, and sandals, which he kicked off when he came in. He'd at least trimmed his hair and his beard, but he was still nowhere near her league.
