By this point Aaron had grown tired of approving time off for Emmett’s frequent “medical
appointments.” Feigning no interest or concern for his well- being, he r eplied to Emmett’s text, Just do
what you need to do.
He arrived at the Monstera offices at ten minutes to nine and was escorted upstairs by the waiflike intern
who’d emailed him. She delivered him to the open door of a conference room. Four tables had been
pushed together to form a larger one, where Dr. Saito sat with three colleagues. Emmett’s stomach
clenched; the presence of so many seemed foreboding.
“Emmett, so nice to see you again,” Saito said, walking around the table to shake his hand. “Thank you
for coming in.” Her grip was weak, but her eyes gleamed with hard light. In turn, she introduced her
colleagues: Pamela Clemmons Dixon, VP of public affairs; Donald Cohrs, director of regulatory affairs;
and Rachael Witzens, Monstera’s “comms and social media wizard.”
Emmett puzzled at the mix of titles; he’d been expecting legal counsel. “Please, have a seat,” Saito said,
walking back around the table. “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here.”
Emmett sat. “The email said it was urgent?” “Timely perhaps, but nothing serious. Hope we didn’t worry
you.” His tension was easing, but still. “How’ve you been finding the trial since the last time we spoke? I
know you were experiencing some side effects. Have the memory issues resolved?”
Emmett answered honestly: “They have.”
Everyone on Saito’s side of the table seemed relieved. “That’s great. I have to say, Emmett, we are all so
impressed with your progress. You’re truly a star participant in our eyes, and we’re delighted to see how
well Obexity’s been working for you.”
He was surprised. “Thanks for letting me be a part of it. It’s changed my life.” You have no idea how
much. “Your online following too, isn’t that right?” “Sorry?” “It was our chief science officer, Dr. Smith,
who brought it to our attention.
He sends his apologies for not joining today, by the way.” The others smirked, as if amused by the idea
of the enigmatic Dr. Smith in the flesh. “Dr. Smith’s taken a special interest in you. He hand-selected you
to participate in the trial, did you know that?”
“Hand-selected me?” Emmett said. “Why—?” “He’s been monitoring your progress online and has been
extremely impressed. How many followers do you have now?” “Almost forty thousand,” Emmett said,
distracted by one of his favorite topics. “Picked up quite a few after my wobble, actually.”
“Wow,” Cohrs muttered. “I’m one of them,” Pamela said. “Me too,” added Rachael, “and—all right if I
jump in, Jenni?” “Please.” The young communications expert addressed Emmett, ebullient. “I’ve been
following you on Instagram since Dr. Smith told us about your account, and I’m just in love with your
content. You’re so talented. The amount of engagement you’ve been able to generate in such a short
space of time is next level. Usually it takes years to build up an audience like that.”
“I’m sure it’s just the effects of the Obexity,” Emmett said. “I don’t this so, I think it’s you. How real you
are. Sooo many people struggle with their weight, and you’ve never shied away from that struggle. To
see you blossom like you have over the last few months, it’s inspiring, even to people who aren’t, uh—”
She faltered. “What I mean is—”
“What is this about, exactly?” Emmett said.
Rachael looked to her superiors for support. “I’ll go,” said Donald Cohrs, a curt suited man with
disheveled hair. “Now, I don’t know shit about PR or social media. My job is to make sure our products
are in compliance with state and federal regulatory requirements and to oversee the FDA approval
process. Unfortunately, the results of the Phase One Obexity trial raised some eyebrows in the federal
government—”
“Just a couple of anomalies that we’ve since addressed,” Saito clarified. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Well, they’re still giving us a hard time,” continued Cohrs. “Because of that, there’s a chance our
application won’t be approved. No FDA approval—”
“No Obexity,” Emmett finished. “You get it. We’re taking a proactive approach, leveraging our political
connections to change the rules around consumer safety—” “What we mean is,” interjected Saito with a
hint of impatience, “we’re trying to get the FDA to consider the long-term health benefits of a product
when reviewing application data that may be anomalous or inconclusive. We strongly believe that the
sooner we get this product to market, the sooner we can start saving lives.”
“Where do I come in?” Emmett asked. “You see, the FDA has an obligation to consider public input on
any proposed rule changes,” Saito said. “In fact, it’s often the deciding factor.”
“So you want me to, what, write them a letter? Tell them the drug is safe?” Pamela answered, a
stunningly beautiful Black woman with toned arms and pin-straight, steel-gray hair. “When the call
comes for public comment, we hope you’ll raise your voice. But that might be a while yet. What we’d
like to do is get ahead of all that by generating excitement for Obexity, putting pressure on the FDA to
approve. As one of our most successful trial participants, with a passionate and growing online following,
we think you’d make an incredible spokesperson for the product.”
“You mean...” “We want you to be the face of Obexity.” Emmett didn’t know what to think. “What
about my NDA?”
“We’ll fix that,” Saito said. “We just ask for your continued discretion until the partnership is formally
announced.” When Emmett went quiet again, she added, “Of course, we wouldn’t take up your time
without fair compensation. We’ve put together a package we think may interest you.” She produced a
written proposal and slid it across the table.
“Including both a generous fee and an earned incentive based on the number of impressions generated.”
“You mean, the more followers I have, the more money I get.” “In a nutshell.” Emmett scanned through
the document. His eyes stopped and his lips parted in surprise at a number more than five times his
annual salary.
“In addition to the financial compensation, we’d like to offer you a complimentary lifetime supply of
Obexity, to allow you to maintain your healthy body after the end of the trial—assuming the FDA
approves the product, of course.”
Obexity for life? If he remembered right, that was potentially worth millions. More than that: money
couldn’t buy the way he felt about himself on the treatment. “Of course, we don’t expect you to make a
decision right now. Think about it. But this needs to stay under wraps until we go public with the
partnership.
That’s very important. You understand.” “What would that look like?” Emmett asked. “Going public.”
Rachael jumped in. “We’d work with you on that. You know your audience best, so we’d want you to
help drive the strategy. But we’re thinking an announcement over social and on the Monstera website,
maybe a press release.
Then a national campaign—digital, print, billboard. We’ve been looking at key markets, mostly De ep
South, Texas, parts of the Midwest, LA and New York of course—” “You’ll think about it,” Saito cut
across her.
Emmett opened his mouth to object. “You’ll think about it,” she r epeated. She wasn’t asking.
A few minutes later, Saito walked Emmett to the elevator. “You have my number if you have any
questions.” She pressed the button. “Anything at all.” “Thanks. I’ll—” “Let me know early next week.”
The elevator arrived with a ding. A placid smile, or something like it, glinted on her lips. “Have a healthy
and happy rest of your day.”
She stood, smiling and waving, until the doors slid closed. Emmett felt anxious and conflicted as he rode
the elevator down. It was an incredible opportunity. Potentially life-changing. But Saito and the others,
they didn’t understand what the drug had done to him, what it had turned him into.
Surely even the most unscrupulous, profit-obsessed company in the world wouldn’t choose a known
cannibal as their spokesperson. He ought to come clean. Force them to halt the clinical trial and cancel
the product altogether.
But that would mean a legal inquiry. And more frightening still, no more Obexity. Back to his old life.
His old self. The thought of it turned his blood to slush. On the other hand, here was an opportunity not
only to lock in his new body for life and earn ridiculous amounts of money doing it, but to show the
world who he really was.
With his face splashed across magazines and billboards, they would see him, and love him, not for who
he’d been, but for what Obexity had made him. And if they acc epted him this way, maybe he could too.