Kenneth had gotten a text from a couple of his Gay-Straight Alliance friends, telling him that there was a party happening over at the BAE house. Usually, he wouldn’t show up to a party like this one, but something drew him to it. Maybe it was how often he’d been called a stick in the mud since he had started college, or something in him was telling him that today would be the day he met someone. He was always told in high school that college was where he’d blossom socially – he’d meet a guy or girl he’d be into, start having real relationships and maybe party a bit along the way. But, once he made it to college, he slipped into the background. He’d grown into adulthood looking entirely bland; short brown hair, lithe frame and dark brown eyes. He wore nothing but jeans and t-shirts most of the year, emblazoned with whatever video game, band or piece of pop culture caught his eye until he moved onto something new. He kept telling himself to up his style, but nothing ever stuck for more than a week. No one outside of the GSA, it seemed, could remember his name. He felt like the Invisible Man.
And, unsurprisingly, college was no different.
He’d spent the first half hour or so looking around for familiar faces, but he couldn’t find a single member of the GSA anywhere. Once he settled on the feeling he’d been ditched or tricked into coming to the party, he decided he might as well get some free food and beer out of it. Kenneth had arrived just as a bunch of other random people did and did a good job of clinging to the wall next to the food. People passed by and joked around as he quietly sipped away at his beer and plucked Cheetos out of a huge bowl.
Kenneth had eventually meandered outside to the pool area, where most of the bros and babes were hanging out. A part of him told himself that it was to mingle and to be brave, but he could feel himself gravitating toward the back gate, pulling himself away. As he neared it, the gate swung open violently and Mick stomped in with a group of sorority girls behind him. He froze in place as the frat bro screamed at his fellow member, pushing him into the pool. He didn’t want to stick around and become the next source of the brute’s anger, so he rushed past a few of the girls that had followed Mick in.
Not watching his step on his way out, he rushed right into a group of partiers. A few groaned in frustration and disgust as Kenneth fell to the ground, but one fratbro pulled to the front of the group and dragged up the wallflower by his shirt.
“Yo, guys, it’s one of those homos from the GSA! Watch where you’re going, you fucking pansy. We don’t wanna catch whatever disease of the day your kind is carrying around.”
Throwing Kenneth away from him, the bro turned back to the group as they got back into laughing and joking. Kenneth got himself up again, tears forming in his eyes as he swung open the side door of the sorority house. He shuffled past people, keeping his head low until he found an empty bedroom to hide in.
Looking around, he must have stumbled into a sports fan’s room – even though it was unsurprisingly feminine, there was enough sports memorabilia to make any die-hard fan jealous. Signed jerseys and hats, tickets for football and baseball games pinned to the walls and, what had caught Kenneth’s eyes most of all, posters of popular players from the Red Sox and Patriots. Specifically, his eyes trailed over to a large poster of Tom Brady using his jersey to wipe his brow. Kenneth wasn’t too into super fit guys but something stirred in him, a feeling he wasn’t used to. He felt entranced by the poster but a growing part of him felt disgusted for keeping his gaze on it for too long.
Unfortunately, little did Kenneth know, hearing the insults from Mick and the other frat members had spread the curse to him.
A switch had been flipped and the curse began to change him. The first thing to change was his height; he grew from an average 5’7’’ to a towering 6’3’’. As he grew, parts of his body swiftly began to fill out more. His ass and legs swelled up with muscle, as if he hadn’t missed a leg day in years. The paleness in his skin darkened as it took more of a Mediterranean olive tone. As his lower half grew, his now ill-fitting pants began tearing slightly at the seams with a quiet set of pops. Next, his arms and chest packed on muscle as well. For the first time, Kenneth could say he had abs. He put a hand onto the dresser in front of him to keep himself steady, suddenly feeling like he’d drank way more than just one beer.
As if he’d taken a left hook, his head started pounding and his thinking felt muddled. It stayed that way for a few moments, erasing a lot of the book smarts he’d had with it as the headache faded. His face chiseled itself out more, giving him a way more all-American jock look. His hair darkened to a deep black, his messy cut shrinking slowly into a well-trimmed fauxhawk. However, as his haircut changed, he also grew a chinstrap beard as well, cleanly attaching each sideburn to the other. By now, he looked distinctly Italian… An Italian Stallion. Remembering the chants his dad would yell at his baseball games, he let out a chuckle, his voice seeming much deeper than it had been.
But that didn’t seem right, did it? Kenneth had grown up in a small town, never trying sports out of disinterest. He’d chosen books instead, found his high school GSA group and met his first boyfriend after coming out as bi. That all seemed so far away now, like he’d been playing someone else’s life. A new, distinctly Bostonian voice barked out who he really was. He wasn’t a fuckin’ homo, he was a man. Born and raised in Quincy, just like his old man was. Played sports throughout his life, looked up to Pedroia and Brady as he played football and baseball throughout high school. Took a couple of L’s here and there but it helped grow some hair on his chest. Fucked around with whatever girl he got a hold of, never stuck around long enough to make it serious. He went off to college on the back of a scholarship to try and get a spot in the MLB. That seemed right.
Kenneth’s mind battled it out, two radically different personalities vying for control. By now, his clothes had changed to fit the invading personality. His shirt became a black Mu Alpha Nu tank top, cut to show off as much of his hot body as he could. His pants shrunk and faded as they wove themselves back together, becoming a pair of pink Dockers shorts with a pair of briefs underneath. Tattoos of his favorite teams, mixed with a few tribal tattoos, snaked up and down his arms and chest. And, like a crown placed on his head, a Red Sox snapback slipped itself on his head, sealing the changes.
Kenneth, now Keaton, pulled himself together, looking around the room he was in. He dug the posters and shit but what the hell was he doing in here? As if on cue, a tall, blonde sorority babe came out of the closet wearing nothing but her bra and panties. Placing a hand on his hip and the other tracing the outline of his now hard dick, she pulled herself close to him.
“Mmm, big guy, get me a drink and I’ll help you out with this…” The girl said as she gripped his dick through his pants.