6. Kira
6
KIRA
When my alarm goes off before the ass crack of dawn on Monday morning, I groan out loud. It feels like I haven't slept at all even though I spent the whole previous day in bed. The combination of coming down from the high of teaching, brunch with my friends, and Jonathan’s email sent my brain spinning long after my body had calmed down.
It wasn’t the worst mood dip I’ve had in my life, but it was enough to take me out for the entire day. If it weren’t for needing to feed my beloved Betta fish, Pancakes, I wouldn’t have gotten out of bed at all.
Hell, I barely feel like getting out of bed now. The all-too familiar fog makes even breathing difficult.
I started experiencing these depressive episodes during my freshman year of college. I can recall wild dips in my mood all the way back to my childhood, but the changes I was going through at nineteen really exasperated the imbalances in my neurotransmitters. After the first time I found myself incapable of leaving my bed for hours on end, I started to refer to the experience as 'the spins'. When my serotonin level dips below zero, the feeling I get is akin to that of throwing back one too many shots of tequila and being unable to control my brain and body.
Unlike when I drink too much, my depressive spins can't be fixed with a few ibuprofens and a good puke session. When the spins settle in like they did late Saturday night, my only way through is to bury my head in the sand, sleep as much as I can and avoid outside triggers, like social media and general people-ing. Not that tough of a task when I usually lack the ability or motivation to breathe, much less do anything else when they happen.
Yesterday morning when I was out of bed and feeding Pancakes his breakfast, I thought about calling my dads. They know all about my depressive episodes. When they started, I was in LA; they were in Tennessee, but they'd dropped everything when I called them one night to tell them I loved them. It was early March during my sophomore year, and I was so, so tired. I was going to class and work and cheer practice, but I wasn’t there. My body might have been, but my mind was empty, save for the dark thoughts I couldn’t stop from creeping in.
Pops and IronDad–nicknamed by my brother and me for his unwavering crush on Robert Downey Jr–had no way of knowing that that late night ‘I love you’ call had been my way of saying goodbye. I didn't tell them about the bottle of pills I'd been staring at for hours and that I had no intentions of seeing the sunrise the next morning, but somehow, they knew.
"What a coincidence, we love you too,” IronDad had said on the other end of the phone. "So much, in fact, that Pops and I are California bound. We're on our way to the airport as we speak. We were going to surprise you, baby girl."
I can't leave if my dads are on their way, I thought to myself as I shoved my dark ideations back into a drawer. I loved them too much to be just a body when they arrived. The pills could wait. IronDad and Pops would visit, and I would feel better and if I didn't, the pills would still be there when they were gone.
When they arrived, I broke down and told them everything. They stayed with me for months as I found doctors, a therapist, and the right medication to help balance my brain. That first night, as I cried into Pop's chest, IronDad said something to me I will never forget.
"Baby girl, this battle in your head is going to feel impossible. Some days, it's going to feel like there's no light at the end of the tunnel and life is going to try to knock you down at every turn. Sometimes it's going to succeed. But when you're down here on the ground, I need you to remember one thing. All you have to do is get back up. You don't have to fight back; you just need to stand up. And you never, ever have to do it alone. Me and Pops will always be here to help get you back on your feet. We'll be there holding you up until you feel like you can stand on your own again, and even then, we'll be one step behind you, ready to catch you if you fall. You can let these dark thoughts push you down, but you never, ever let them keep you down. You got it?"
My dads saved my life that night and have continued to be my light, even on my darkest days. Even so, I kept to myself yesterday. I didn't call them. I sure as hell didn't reach out to my friends. Not that I think my girls wouldn't be there for me—Dottie, Rach and Georgie are my ride or die crew. They know I take an SSRI every day and see a therapist regularly, but they don't know about the spins. I haven't wanted to burden them with my pain. It wouldn't be fair. I'm the fun friend. I'm the disco ball that the party of our lives happens around. If they knew that I wasn't all sunshine all the time, they'd treat me differently. They might not mean to, but it's a natural inclination. They'd tiptoe around me, and I couldn't take the pity.
I've been handling this on my own with only my parents for a long time, and I'm doing just fine.
I stare up at my ceiling in the darkness of my bedroom, absolutely dreading the day ahead. I'm still not feeling great in my head or my body. I don’t even feel like doing my morning guided meditations. If it wasn't for this mandatory meeting, I’d be calling out sick today. Pulling up my calendar, I see that I'm scheduled to film a shadow boxing class as well as two spin classes on my own today. It's content that will be dropped on our on demand platform later in the week and doesn't require students in the studio with me. That just won't do.
If I'm going to have to put on my typical peppy persona on camera today, I'm going to need an audience to fake it in front of. Pulling up the Spin Sync instructor group chat, I decide to see if anyone wants to switch schedules with me. The production assistants don't love it when we trade off classes, but as long as we promise not to mess with the class plans, they let it slide.
Sweat Mafia Group Chat
Kira
Anyone have a members class this morning they want to pawn off? I've got a shadowbox )
It's going to be a long fucking day.
But as the Patron Saint of Sad Bad Bitches once said,
Lights, camera, bitch smile.
Dragging myself away from my bundle of blankets, I take a quick shower to rinse off the stench of my bed rotting. I don't bother washing my hair since I'll be sweating on the treadmill in a few hours. Later, before class, I’ll hit the wisps that frame my face with a curling iron and slick the rest back with some sparkly gel that will pop on camera. For now, a low bun and some mascara and lip gloss is more than enough effort for a meeting with Jonathan.
I open my drawers and pull out a pair of black compression shorts and a white sports bra that crisscrosses over my breasts and gives me some cleavage that looks amazing on camera, especially when I highlight my small boobs with a little bronzer before going on.
I throw an oversized lavender hoodie overtop and lace up a matching pair of Nike running shoes. The hoodie will be long gone before the cameras go on in the studio, but between the foggy San Francisco morning and the AC that's always blasting in the building, it's a necessary layer for now.
The Spin Sync building is located in the heart of the city on Market Street in The Castro neighborhood. A historically gay neighborhood, The Castro is home to some of San Francisco's most prominent activists in the past and present, as well as beautiful infrastructure and nature alike. The vibes are immaculate since the surrounding blocks are always bursting with rainbows, from flags to signs in shop windows to the paint on the streets and sidewalks.
The neighborhood also houses its fair share of nudists, so it's not out of the norm that I saw two penises on my twenty-minute walk. That’s par for the course on this block. Even though I don’t particularly love the view of old man balls as the sun rises, I appreciate peoples’ ability to become one with nature.
The front of the building boasts an electronic wall that shows a rotating slideshow of instructor photos and videos throughout the day, and this morning I'm met with a fifty-foot shot of myself doing burpees in a navy-blue leggings and white bra combo. Nine times out of ten, I get incredibly excited and squeaky when I catch myself up on the screen. Something about seeing yourself looking larger than life really strokes the ego in a very soothing way, but I am not in the mood today. I duck my head, keeping it low so I don't have to converse with my coworkers until absolutely necessary.
Since I have some time before my meeting with Jonathan, I decide to help myself to something from the lobby cafe. It was my idea to provide complimentary light meals and smoothies to both students and employees when we moved into this building two years ago. Jonathan fought me tooth and nail because of the added cost, but I won out, and the cafe is a hit with everyone who steps through our doors.
Opting for a green juice and a whole wheat everything bagel, I'm smothering my carbs in veggie cream cheese when an annoying presence grabs my shoulders from behind.
“Keeks!” James singsongs my name as he shakes my shoulder. Decked out in Spin Sync-branded gear with a backpack hanging from his shoulder and backwards baseball cap on his head, he looks like a frat boy on the first day of school.
“You are not the Adler I wanted to see this early in the morning. Where is your wife?”
“Georgie is at home. She’ll be in later for my upper body strength class,” he says, bouncing away on the balls of his feet .
"You have too much fucking energy," I say around the bagel in my mouth, not caring if I accidentally spit half-chewed food all over him.
"Hell yeah, I do. I had three shots of espresso and two orgasms already this morning and I am fucking pumped!" He strikes a strong man pose, and I choke on a gag.
"Gross. Keep that information to yourself. I know your last job title was 'Pervert-CEO-slash-Assistant-Fucker', but I can assure you, no one here is interested in your penis's extracurricular activities." It’s a low-brow tease, since Georgie was working as James’ assistant when they met, but it’s all I can muster right now. As I try to push past him, he leans down and takes an enormous bite of my bagel, then winks at me. I glare back at him.
“James, you’re a fucking billionaire. Don’t you have better things to do than annoying me, like buying football teams or hunting humans on a private island for sport?”
"I have nothing better to do because believe it or not, I’ve never had the urge to hunt an animal, let alone another human. Though buying a football team sounds like something I’d love, I live to annoy you. Being your coworker is so much fun," he whispers loudly, and I smile despite myself. I love having him around. It was my idea that he join us at Spin Sync.
When we first met, he was burnt out and unfulfilled in his role as CEO in the tech company he'd help start a decade ago. Given his goofy nature, outgoing personality and passion for fitness, I knew he'd make a fantastic instructor. James is a natural performer. His charisma and charm can captivate a room, and he’s got the kind of body meathead gym bros strive for. I didn't think he'd take me seriously when I'd suggested it, but I'm glad he did. I like my coworkers. I consider most of them friends, but it's great to have someone I'm genuinely close with around all the time.
“What are you doing here so early, anyway? I thought you switched to a later time slot?” he asks as we push through the ‘Employees Only’ door. I push the button to the elevator that will take him to the locker rooms and me to the executive suites.
“I’ve got a meeting,” I say with a nonchalant shrug. I haven’t told anyone about my suspicions. I haven’t wanted to jinx myself.
Jonathan and I met when I was still a student at UCLA. He was teaching at a boutique gym that I’d been taking shadow boxing classes at for weeks. I thought he was hot. I’ve always been into older guys–as I made obvious on Georgie’s wedding night, a little salt and pepper in the hair is my kryptonite–and Jonathan has a good eight years on me. I signed up for private lessons that I didn’t need in order to get closer to him. I flirted, he flirted, and eventually we fell into bed together.
I was young and na?ve. I wasn’t dumb enough to think that Jonathan and I were soulmates that were bound to go the distance, but I was stupid enough to give too much of myself away during some pillow talk one night.
I’d told him all about my grand idea for a fitness platform where people have the option to come into a studio and workout with other people or stay home and stream the class, giving them a group experience with no need to leave their house. I showed him the crappy sketches I’d done of stationary bikes and treadmills with large tablets attached. I told him how I imagined the whole thing as a ‘Netflix meets Jane Fonda meets Boutique Fitness’ and that once I graduated from college and gained access to my trust fund, I was going to make it happen.
I was absolutely devastated a year later when I read about Jonathan Graham’s streaming fitness company, Spin Sync, was launching in San Francisco.
There was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t prove that he’d stolen what I considered my intellectual property. Jonathan had been quicker, richer, and slimier than I was at twenty. Coincidentally, the news came just a few weeks before my dads came out to Los Angeles and saved my life.
By the time I’d graduated, I’d been over the pain of the betrayal. When Jonathan reached out three years ago to tell me the company was expanding and offered me a spot as an instructor, I was still pissed. I wanted to strangle him, but I wanted to work for Spin Sync more. I’d negotiated my way into an executive position alongside the instructor role, and the rest was history .
Jonathan and I have a tumultuous personal relationship, but we’ve made good enough business partners.
Still, I won’t be upset to see him go.
James bids me farewell with a kiss on the cheek that I make a show of wiping off in disgust, and I continue up the fourth-floor executive suites. I stop into my office to drop my bag and the rest of my uneaten bagel on my desk. I check my teeth in the mirror on the back of my door to make sure they’re clear of any leftover food bits, and then I let my hair out its bun, opting to tie my locks into a side braid instead. For a moment, I feel a little insecure about my outfit. Maybe I should have worn something more professional, like a blazer and some…I don’t know. What do professional women wear? Chinos? Boat shoes? I should’ve worn boat shoes.
Giving myself a once over, I decide that it’s fine. I want to appear nonchalant when I walk into Jonathan’s office. Like today is just any old day, and the meeting is just any old meeting, not one that is about to change the trajectory of my life.
Let’s be real, if I wore a blazer, I’d be setting myself up for Jonathan to mock me endlessly for being a try hard.
Nope, my ‘don’t give a fuck, just rolled out of bed and I’m ready to workout’ look is perfect. It’s cute, casual, and hot. I’m the picture of a laid back, California fitness personality.
Flipping off the light in my office, I practically skip down the hall to Jonathan’s space. The door is open, but I knock twice on the door frame, anyway.
“C’mon in,” Jonathan calls out. I cross the threshold, immediately plopping into a chair and pulling up my legs to sit crisscross applesauce style. Jonathan is typing away at his computer and holds up a finger to signal he’ll be a moment, even though I haven’t said anything yet. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Jonathan is arrogant, self-inflated and more than a little annoying. He always thinks he knows what’s best, and he’s convinced that his time is more valuable than anyone else's.
He finishes his typing with a gusto and a dramatic sigh, then turns to me with his practiced CEO smile.
“Kiki,” he beams, and I hold back the wince I feel at his cutesy nickname. I didn’t love it when he called me Kiki in bed, and I really don’t love that he’s continued, no matter how many times I’ve asked him to stop.
“Kira,” I correct, softly. It’s not in my nature to be demure, but you know what they say. Don’t bite the hand that’s about to hand you the keys to the kingdom it stole from you, or something like that.
“Right. Kiki, we have a lot to discuss. As you know, I’ve been thinking a lot about my life, my career, and next steps. As fun as it’s been, I feel as though I’ve outgrown this little adventure of ours. I just feel like I’m built for bigger and better things, you know? I mean, you want to be a fitness instructor forever and that’s great for you, but it’s not enough for me.”
Years of working with Jonathan have taught me to keep my face passive, even when my insides are boiling in rage at his passive aggressive, ‘I’m so much better than you’ attitude. I’d love to remind him he’d be nothing without me, the woman who is okay with being “just a fitness instructor”, but I keep my mouth shut.
He’ll be gone soon, Kira. He’ll be gone soon.
“I digress. It’s time that I spread my wings. Move beyond our little world here at Spin Sync and see what I’m capable of, you know?”
“I get it. You always had aspirations beyond being the CEO of a multimillion-dollar fitness and streaming conglomerate,” I agree, my words coming sickly sweet like I dipped them in maple syrup to mask my disdain for the man. Lucky for me, Jonathan is too far up his own ass to notice my sarcasm.
“And so, that brings me to why I’ve asked you here this morning,” he stands, rounding in his desk to prop himself on the corner in front of me. Something I definitely won’t miss about Jonathan? The stupid, ill-fitting suits with the skinny ties he wears everyday like he’s the frontman of some shitty British pop-punk band.
But even his dumbass choice of outfit can get me down today. I’ve got the money in the bank. I’ve got my legal team on standby. I’ve even got the perfect caption for my first Instagram post after the news breaks.
We didn’t come this far just to come this far.
Our journey together has only just begun.
An inspirational quote accompanied by a picture of my rock solid ass and back that I’ve worked so hard for, it will be perfect.
“This day has been a long time coming, Kiki. I’m delighted to be the first to tell you…I’ve sold Spin Sync. The deal is done, a new era is dawning. I’d like you to meet your new CEO.”
Jonathan gestures towards the door as my brain tries to catch up with everything he just said.
The deal is done.
He sold Spin Sync.
He sold it to someone else. My company. My heart and soul. My blood, sweat, and tears. Everything I’ve worked towards; Jonathan just gave away.
He knew I wanted it.
He knew it was mine to take back.
He never even gave me the chance to make an offer.
When another man enters the room and I realize exactly who Jonathan sold all my dreams to, there is only one thing I can possibly say.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”