#64

He had looked something like the Campbell's soup kid in his youth. Chubby, ruddy cheeks, short swatches of patchy blonde hair, thick wrists and a soft tummy. And he had been happy- always giggling- never making jokes, but never the brunt of them either.
Of course, it was sooner rather than later that societal stereotypes got to him. He lost the soft ruddiness, the awkwardly boyish smile, straightened the crooked teeth. A personal trainer, GQ Magazine subscription, and 4 types of diet pills later, he looked nothing like the boy she grew up with.
As his popularity spiked, she watched his agonizing decline.
For two years now she had followed this friend-turned-stranger in the magazines and tabloids, watched stories she hoped weren't true. Looked through the accompanying pictures she hoped were staged.
she had loved him, of course. Loved him unknown and chubby and poor and happy.