Tyler saw the door to Ethan Miller’s apartment open and slouched down low behind the wheel of his Honda. A figure in a beanie slouched out, heading down the street away from him. He breathed a sigh of relief, then sat back up.
Tyler had always been a little bit of a celebrity cyber stalker, but this was the first time he’d ever attempted to make a move in real life and he was nervous. He hoped he could play it cool, but his palms were practically dripping sweat. As he adjusted his blonde hair in the mirror (the sides were shaved, but the slightly longer top had a habit of becoming unruly when he wasn’t looking), he went through his carefully memorized fact checklist in his head.
“He loves dogs, he’s 28 years old, his favorite color is green, his favorite movie is… Caddyshack? No, Grease.” Playing the part of the perfect man was going to be tough, especially because he looked nothing like the perfect man. He had hoped his haircut would work with his chubby cheeks and pale skin to pull of a Sam Smith kind of thing, but it only succeeded in making his forehead look bigger. His doughy body was hairless and he was too tall to be graceful. But that’s why he had to make up for it in personality.
He hurried out of the car and strode in the direction Ethan had headed in. “It’s now or never, Ty. Favorite band? Queen. Favorite TV show? Friends. Hobbies? Collecting vinyl, working out, graffiti art… Shit.” Tyler stopped in his tracks when he saw the grey beanie through the crowd, turning right on the corner. He rushed down the street, bounding around he block to meet him coming the other way. Before he rounded the corner, he took a deep breath, heart thumping in his chest. He was sweating a little, but there was nothing he could do about that. He gulped, then stepped onto the pavement.
As he approached Ethan, he couldn’t help but notice that he was looking a little skinnier than normal. Was he sick? Well, now wasn’t the time to worry about that. It was time to strike. He reached out to grab Ethan’s arm and deliver his practiced line.
“Excuse me, but are you-“
“Hands off, faggot!”
Tyler’s heart leapt into his throat. The man who had just torn his arm away was definitely NOT Ethan Miller. He was just some skinny stoner with a foul look and a goatee. Where could he have gone wrong? Did Ethan have a brother he didn’t know about? The stoner looked a little bit like him, but…
Perplexed, Tyler ran his fingers through his hair, getting caught on a tangle halfway through. He made a snap decision and turned on his heel, heading back to the apartment. If at first you don’t succeed… As he walked he ran through the list again and again. He arrived at his vantage point outside the apartment and slipped in through the passenger door of the VW bus. Wait, what? Where was his Honda? He looked around, but his car was nowhere to be found. As he turned his head, he heard a strange rustling. He nervously peered through the beaded curtain behind him into the interior of the Bus. Other than some gross mural of nude women, there was nobody else in the car. So what made that noise?
Something tickled the back of his neck and he almost jumped three feet into the air. He swatted at the back of his head, hitting a spongy mass. He tugged at it, sending a searing pain through his scalp. Ouch! He flipped down the passenger mirror to investigate. What he saw almost made him involuntarily pee his pants.
A round growth of coarse, dark brown hair was budding from the top of his head like some evil alien pod. It pulsed and grew as he watched, pulling against his scalp as I grew heavier. His heart pounded against his ribcage. Sweat beaded on his brow. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thudthudthudthud! He felt like he was going to scream or throw up as the pressure inside his head built and built and builtbuiltbuilt until…
Pop! The knot of hair unraveled into unkempt, oily dreadlocks, which now dangled down to his shoulders like hairy worms. As the hair released, so did all the pressure built up inside of him. Tyler felt his frayed nerves dissipate as his muscles relaxed. He leaned back in his seat as his eyes dilated, a pleasant fog descended over his panicked mind. All his worries and thoughts of Ethan were obliterated n a cloud of contentment.
He grinned dopily and ran a finger down his new dreads, not even registering the pinpricks of pain and eyebrow and lip piercings graced his face. Like a can of paint being spilled, his brows slowly faded from blonde to brown in a wave of color. His lips grew thin as pinpricks of stubble haphazardly dotted his chin. Beneath his dreadlocks, wispy sideburns emerged, unraveling down past his ears like a carpet unrolling.
His shirt ripped right down the middle, becoming a battered tunic vest as all the fat drained away from his body. He became so skinny, you could clearly see his abdominal muscles as a golden brown tan spread from their center, coloring each ab before spreading out across his body, giving him a pleasing bronzed glow. Tyler sat up and opened the glove box, pulling out a small bong and a lighter. He lit up, took a drag, and sighed contentedly, smoke erupting from his mouth and nose.
He kicked off his shoes, which eroded into a ratty pair of Rainbows. His freed feet expanded as size as his toenails grew long and snaggly, lakes of dirt appearing beneath them. He took another toke and put his arms behind his head, scraggly hairs bursting from his pits as he did so. He snickered and closed his eyes, blissed out.
“There you are, Ty! I’ve been looking all over for you!”
The driver’s side door opened and Eddie got in the Bus.
“We’re all where we need to be, dude.” Wheezed Ty.
“Right, brah, but I think where we need to be right now is downtown. Some chicks want to score some reefer in exchange for fucking our brains out.”
“Righteous,” said Ty, as Eddie put the Bus in drive and pealed away from the curb.