You turn to Quentin, who has a shocked look on his face. He starts to shout. "What the fuck?! Now I KNOW your haircut didn't look like that a minute ago." He's pressed himself against the driver's side door, pushing his body away from you in fear and confusion. You reach up and touch your head. Your hair is much shorter on the sides, and at the top of your head there's much more hair. You flip down the passenger side mirror and examine yourself. You keep your mouth pressed tight so as not to betray your own surprise and try to keep your cool. Travis has obviously made another change without your consent.
Your hair is styled in a long crown haircut, slicked back with some kind of product. It gives you an almost birdlike appearance, you think, not particularly giving any extra appeal to your facial features. It's still a coppery red-brown, as it was since your change earlier that day. You know there must be another change, but it would be better if you could get out of the car and examine yourself. Maybe tattoos, a subtle change to a less noticeable part of your body like your ears or bottom, or even something in your mind. For now, though, you need to play it cool. Quentin is still freaking out.
"It was like this all day. Are you really that tired, rookie?" You remembered he hates when you call him that. You had hoped it would redirect his attention, but it only gets him more fired up. "Nuuuuh-uh. I'm not letting you pull that shit on me. That is NOT what you looked like a second ago. Plus add in all the weird behaviour all day, carry the one, and your ass is hiding something."
It takes you nearly half an hour, but you stand your ground. Quentin backs down little by little, and by the end he half-believes he's losing it. He's a practical person, so maybe he would just rather believe the more rational explanation. Not something very nice to do to one of your friends, but really, you've only known the guy for a day. And you will say anything to get yourself back to where the magic ring is. He drives you back to your apartment, but the ride back is quiet. Quentin's knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel, creating a contrast with his almond skin. You're too preoccupied to care right now, and maybe Quentin will just see it as your confusion from his earlier accusation. You pull your phone from your pocket and message Travis while you wait, sending a simple '???'. There's no response, which concerns you a little.
When the car stops, you hop out quickly. Instantly, you know what else changed, but don't let it show on your face as you bend down to the window for a goodbye. Quentin is looking forward, a little shaken. "Night man. And get some rest, okay? It's a tough job, hard on anybody." Quentin doesn't move his head, just gazes forward. "Yeah... right..." He gives you one glance, garnished with a half-hearted smile, and then drives off.
When you step into the elevator to get to your floor, you're alone. Good, you think. You use your hand to heft your dick and confirm what you felt when you hopped out of the car. Definitely bigger, but only by a couple inches. You're up to an above average 9 or 10, you think. Hard to tell if it's still circumcised, especially since you don't know what an uncut dick feels like, but you think that's the same. You release your meat and the elevator doors open. Just in time, someone is getting in with their dog. You brush past them, and when the elevator reaches your floor, you make a beeline for your apartment door.
When you go inside...