Jon felt lighter on his feet and a little more aware of his surroundings. As he walked he found himself rolling his shoulders, moving his neck from side to side. There was a jitter to his bones, he could feel.
"Still, even after that workout?" He thought.
The old Jon might've been tired after such a day. But he told himself to be better than any girls that came out of the changing rooms. Better than the fittest of them, and with the enhancements he gave them... well, Jon's proprioception was eager to be tested, as were his muscles, and his mind. For a moment Jon wondered about stars, and if this is how it might be for a star - all energy, and no time to give it away.
"What am I thinking?" He wondered out loud. Such a bad metaphor.
Shaking his hands, he made his way to the cafeteria. His stomach rumbled. Jon stopped by the door a second, unaware of the sudden silence his entrance caused. He beelined for the food. Something was itching between his shoulder blades, and no matter how much he scratched it was still there.
His tray was piled high with twice as much food as he usually ate. Vegetables and roasted meat and a lot of fruit. Hamburger and pasta and chicken salad and more vegetables. He was famished. His body needed fuel. He sat down alone on a desk and ate quietly.
He was halfway through his meal when some of the "Perfected" Girls from basketball waltzed in. Heads turned, mouths were agape. Jon blinked, wondering if he looked that good.
"Well, no, I look better, don't I? Part of my own command."
