On Tour

She couldn't believe she was drunk again. Her life had really changed since they had had that hit single. Amazing how one song can change your life. She could never afford to get drunk like this every night before but now she just kept buying drinks after the shows - and she didn't have to worry about when the money would run out. Someone else was paying. Five working class girls who had made it good on the strength of their looks and one good song. Called themselves 'Flack Attack' She couldn't believe how lucky she was. She never felt beautiful like some of the others but she had a big bust, a voluptuous page 3 girl look, and a kind of raw sex appeal that people seemed to like. She knew it could end any moment and she felt desperate to get as much from the situation as she could. Not to abuse the situation but just because she felt like it could end any second. That's why she let the PR people put them up in hotels she only dreamed about when she was a kid. That's why she would have a drink with anyone who would drink with her. That's why she had been drunk every night of their tour so far. Two weeks in all - and another five months to go. She smiled to herself thinking about it. What an absolute laugh. She was little old Polly from outside Cambridge, and now she had all her costumes bought for her, her five star hotels paid for, room service whenever she wanted it, and an expense account that seemed unlimited, and all she had to do was get up on stage and sing and dance for a couple of hours every night. She would travel through Europe, Australia, Asia and the USA - places she never thought she would ever have the money to visit - and all paid for by one little hit single and the people who filled their venues every night. The best part was that she wasn't spending her own money - she was happily saving all her dough.

It was about three in the morning when she returned to her hotel room. It occurred to her that she was hungry. The show had finished about four hours ago and she had been celebrating with the crew and the girls from the group - still her best friends - as was her wont. She had always liked to have fun and now she could afford it. Drunkenly she sat on the bed, not ready to sleep but unsure what to do with herself. Flicking through the TV channels she absentmindedly strolled over to the mini bar and grabbed a toblerone. Enjoying that and still awake she grabbed the other one. And then the two Mars Bars. Then she munched her way through two large packets of cashew nuts. She still wasn't sleepy but she was very thirsty. Opening the mini bar again she sank two cans of coke and then sipped her way through another two cans of lemonade from sheer sleeplessness. With a loud belch she was finally tired and lay down to go to sleep.

When she returned the next night to her hotel room after another big day of rehearsals, media lunches, a great gig, and another drunken night her whole mini bar had been replaced as per normal. To Polly it was like she had never even taken anything from it. Often they would be in a new hotel in a new city anyway. She was living a dream and she couldn't unwind as quickly as the others so she would sit up alone in her room for a couple of hours too awake to sleep and too drunk to think about what she was taking out of the mini bar. In two weeks apart from her usual day's intake and her drunken binges every night she had eaten 28 toblerones, 28 Mars Bars, 28 packets of cashews, and drunk 45 cans of coke and 30 cans of lemonade. She danced every night for two hours but much of the rest of the day was spent in buses or cars or at media lunches. She had gained over 8 pounds in two weeks! It was starting to show.

Then, six weeks into their tour, Polly herself began to notice the changes. You can't eat and drink like she had been and have it go unnoticed. She was putting her costume on for the show that night - skin tight red hotpants and a matching bustiere top. She looked great in them and there were lots of photos of her appearing in them in the magazines. Only she couldn't do the pants up. Her stomach was in the way! With a final effort she brought the two halves of her waistband together and buttoned the top of the sipper watching a new softness in her stomach gently poke over the top of her pants. Her waist spilled over the sides ever so subtly. She was sure it hadn't been there before. She was gaining weight. Quickly she put the bustiere on and was pleased to see that it buttoned more easily than her pants. She didn't notice the softness of the flesh around her shoulders or the generous bosom that was threatening to escape the constrictions of the costume. Sucking her stomach in she walked into the bathroom and hopped on the scales that were provided (she had thought this rather an odd for hotels to include but most had them). Looking for 110 lbs on her 5'2" athletic body she was shocked as the needle settled on 125. In one month she had gained 15 lbs! Vowing to watch her food from now on she put her street clothes on over the top of her show outfit as usual and made her way downstairs to the waiting car.

It was a fantastic gig that night and she forgot all about her extra weight. No one seemed to notice - leastwise no one said anything. After the concert - her worries forgotten in the cry of the crowd she felt the invulnerability of success. Changed for civilian life in the pair of loose-ish jeans and a slightly too short T-shirt she forgot all about her apparent weight gain and the group ate a late dinner together as normal. They were in a pizza restaurant and Polly thought it odd that her friends ordered salads so she ordered an extra family size pizza in case they had forgotten. The girls exchanged a couple of glances as Polly unknowingly ate her way through two family size pizzas. She had assumed that the other girls must have eaten some. Still awake she went out for a drink as usual and knocked back about six pints of stout before wandering back to her room. Drunk again she cleaned out her mini bar of food and soft drink once more. Then in a strange inebriated logic she decided that she could counteract the effects of her junk food frenzy by ordering some healthy food from room service

"Just a little something. I was dancing very hard tonight", she justified to herself not noticing the bulge of her stomach.

As if in a dream she opened the menu, rang room service, and ordered. Somewhere between the idea and the execution the message in her brain got scrambled and she simply ordered what looked good to her.

"One ravioli please, a plate of garlic bread, an ice cream sundae..."... her eyes kept moving down the page, compelled by a hunger to order yet more. Before she knew it she had ordered enough to feed a small family. The pure guilt of it all excited her somehow.

The waiter had been surprised to find no one in the room but her but he had left the plates just the same. Her tip had brightened him up some too.

One hour later, and looking at a mound of empty plates, she knew that she had never eaten so much at one sitting before in her life. She had had soup after Pasta, after burger, after club sandwich, after bread. She had washed it down with two milkshakes (she had been unable to decide on flavour) and followed it with Tiramisu, chocolate mouse, creme caramel, and two sundaes (the flavour thing again). She had eaten like a women possessed. She no sooner had one thing in her mouth than she was reaching for the next. Traces of food had hung at the corners of her mouth only to be licked clean before they dropped. As she had eaten she had felt her stomach growing fuller - almost to bursting - but still she kept eating. Thankfully she had undone the top button of her jeans but even still her stomach felt incredibly constricted by the unforgiving denim. Draining the last drop of a caramel milkshake she had realized that she could literally fit no more food in her stomach. She liked the feeling. She rang roomservice to clear the plates and left them all outside before she collapsed unconscious on the bed about 4.00 am with her stomach pointing to the sky like a pregnant woman's. When she awoke the plates had been cleared from outside her room by a room service fairy and she was left uncertain as to how much she had really eaten. The next night she did it again. And the next. And the next.

By the end of the eighth week of the tour it was becoming obvious to all just how much she was eating and drinking. She had gained 40 lbs in 2 months and she was eating more than ever. Her costumes had been remade twice and would have to be remade again if this kept up. The fans still screamed every night but the media had started printing reports like 'Roly Polly - the Dancing Queen' and 'Flack Attack is a 'Snack Attack' for Polly'. The accompanying photos would catch her mid routine with her growing belly sticking out from under a T-shirt or folding over her tight trousers, or her breasts threatening to burst from her low-cut top, or her softening arms held up showing the under arm flesh that was developing. Polly was hurt by the tone of the articles but secretly thought that she looked quite good in the photos. She certainly didn't stop eating. If anything she was eating more.

Three months into the tour Polly had gained even more weight. It was at this point that the girls decided that they had better say something to Polly. The management had wanted to do something weeks ago but the girls were still friends first and foremost and had thought that it might be a passing phase that Polly would work herself out of.

Immediately after the show that night - when they were having their supper - the rest of the girls decided to broach the subject with Polly. They were eating Italian tonight and Polly was sitting back eagerly anticipating her Bread, Entree of Pasta and Pizza, main of Chicken Parmagiana, and several desserts like Gelati, Baci, Tiramisu. She was certain that she would have room for Cheeses like Provolone and Picora and was absolutely salivating at the thought of Hot Chocolate and Whipped cream that she had taken to ordering by the Milkshake glass instead of the emotionally unsatisfying cup. Sitting down, every pound of Polly's gain was on evidence tonight. Her short, tight, low-cut T-shirt had flesh erupting from every opening. Her once muscular arms were smooth and fleshy and looked as though they could not possibly have come out of the small T-shirt they were almost contained by. Her chest - always large - had become round and improbably majestic as it flowed out the front of her top. Her short waist and stomach - she was only 5' 2" - were preoccupied with trying to escape her hipster jeans, her waist band all but hidden by the voluptuous fold of flesh that told the real story of her debauchery over the last couple of months.

Absentmindedly Polly ate her way through three plates of bread waiting for her meal. The other girls were too conscious of what they had to do to be hungry although they all were eating less and less as the responsibility of fame weighed on them. They didn't necessarily want to tell Polly what to do - she was their friend - but they had a certain image to uphold.

The first course arrived. The other girls as per usual had mixed green salads. They would follow this with some soup and no dessert. Polly had assumed that they had begun to order these things because that was all they wanted. She had never thought they might be trying to stay slim.

"Polly," began Christina - the elegant one, according to the media, "do you really need to order all of this food all the time? I mean... you have been... putting on a little weight", she said as tactfully as she could. Polly rubbed her hand absently on her stomach and felt the evident truth of Christina's statement. She wondered what the point was.

"Yeah, Poll," said one of the others, "You are kinda out of shape." Polly listened as she forked another delicious mouthful of Tagliatelli Carbonara past her full and sensuous lips.

"The media have been saying some tough things about you Poll." Polly cleaned off her plate with a slice of bread, burped slightly, grabbed a huge slice of pizza, folded it in half and shoved the whole thing into her eager mouth.

"We have an image to keep up, you know, for the fans." Polly quaffed her wine in one gulp and poured herself another before polishing off the rest of a pizza that should have fed four. Small cascades of sauce dribbled down her chin but were caught before they reached the softness that was threatening to become a second chin.

"The PR guys think that maybe you should try and lose some weight..." trailed off another of the girls as Polly was forced to undo the top button of her jeans to allow for fullness of her stomach. Unrestricted her stomach threatened to overtake her lap

"You've got to choose between food and the band Pol," said Christina in frustration at Polly's seeming indifference to the situation. Then, as if from the devil himself, an enormous pizza arrived. Enough to feed ten people. Compliments of the management. The Chef's daughter was a fan apparently. Polly looked at the pizza with obvious yearning but held herself back for a moment. She looked up from her empty plates, emptied another glass of wine and turned to the rest of the girls.

"Do you guys imagine for a moment that I don't know how much weight I have gained? Look at me. Three months ago I was 110 lbs. I'm not very tall and this morning I weighed exactly 203 lbs. Twelve months ago I was poor but I was having fun. Now I'm rich and I'm having fun. That's the only difference. I'm still Polly. Do you remember why we did this in the first place? Do you?... Because it was fun. It was all supposed to be a bit of a laugh. Why should one hit single and a bit of fame change that."

She continued, "Do you remember when we did that concert for the end of year pageant in our last year at school? We were so bad that the whole school was in fits of laughter. And do you remember the outfits we wore. I think my Mum made mine out of some old table cloth that she never used any more. Did we care. No. We loved it. We had fun."

"Remember when you Christina - the 'elegant one' - got that stupid hair cut about four years ago. We didn't stop having fun then. We just laughed and got over it. The only thing that's different is that it's not just our Mums who watch us now."

The girls all shifted in their chairs. They remembered back individually to when they were in High School and singing into each others hairbrushes. Smiles broke out.

"It was supposed to be about having fun. Sure I'm fat now," and Polly grabbed her roll of stomach flesh in emphasis, "but I am having an absolute ball. If the fans don't want to see me rolling about on stage, busting out of my clothes well I just don't care." Polly grabbed a large slice of the enormous pizza and continuing speaking with her mouth full.

"Come on guys. Remember how we used to pig out when we got our study grants at the end of the month, well now we can afford to do what we want, when WE want. And now most of the time someone else is paying for it. It's a dream come true. This nice man has given us this pizza. Help me eat it." She looked at the girls she had grown up with and pleaded with her eyes for them to be the people she had always known.

"Well actually I am pretty hungry", said Christina. The ice broken they all tucked in as Polly turned to the waiter and said, "I think you had better order us a couple more Pizzas, a few big plates of Pasta, and a couple more bottles of this wine!"

The following day there were five empty mini bars in the hotel, some happy girls, and there was just a little bit more of Flack Attack performing that night... and there was still another two months of the tour to go.