As the strange headache reached its peak, Jeremy found his mind drifting to his brother. It wasn't fair...looking at him now, he had everything. Jeremy wasn't ugly by any means, but he was scrawny and short and average, while Evan was this tall, all-American jock out of a hallmark card. In his last moments of clear thought, he found himself filled with envy over how his brother looked...
...and then the pain was gone. Blinking, Jeremy found he couldn't remember what exactly had been on his mind just seconds ago. He'd put on the glasses, hadn't he? He'd put them on, and then...he looked up at his brother down the hallway, and felt his heart sink in his chest. Nothing had even changed. Evan looked breathtakingly, unfairly handsome as ever, with his stupid pouty lips and perfect hair he didn't even have to style. Just like always, he towered over Jeremy by nearly a foot, capping off at 6 and a half feet tall. Jeremy wanted to scoff at that, call him a freak when nobody else in their family was taller than 6 foot even, but he couldn't...his brother suited the height. Evan had worked his body to perfection all throughout highschool, and that somehow made his height seem in proportion. His perfect biceps, his muscular thighs, the bulging pecs that stretched his too-small shirt until you could see the traces of his abs through the tight fabric...even the beer cans in his hands looked small compared to him. Jeremy felt like that too, next to his brother.
Scowling, he ripped the glasses off and stormed back into his room, muttering about how the stupid things didn't even work. As he got to work cleaning his adonis brother's cum off his laptop, he didn't notice the slight prickling in his eyes. If he'd looked in a mirror, Jeremy would have noticed something more: his eyes had gone from brown to hazel-green...
—
Back in the hallway, Evan paused, staring at the door his kid brother had just slammed. There'd been a moment while Jeremy was staring at him that he'd felt...odd. Kind of hot and dizzy. He felt fine now, great even, but there was still a lingering feeling that something wasn't quite right. Frowning, he turned to the door of the den and walked in. Well, he started to at least. As he strode froward he slammed his head hard against the doorframe, and staggered backwards, cursing and scrambling not to drop any of the beers. What the fuck? He'd never hit his head on the door before...he would call it a growth spurt, but it was too sudden. The edge of the door had been at the level of his temples. As he shook the pain off and carefully bent down to try and walk through again, he heard a chorus of laughs from inside the room.
"God, Ev, I haven't seen that one in a while," said Alex, voice playfully teasing, "How long have you lived in this house? Ten years?"
The others cackled at that.
"Yeah Evan, seriously. I mean, you used to bang your skull all the time back at school but you *live* here, dude," said Caleb, another friend, and Luke, the fourth, nodded in agreement.
Evan laughed uneasily.
"Yeah, uh, sure," he mumbled, and handed out the beers.
Luke gave him an odd look.
"You trying to stay sober, man? Last time we got you drunk on one can was back in middle school."
Evan didn't know how to respond. Were the guys trying to play a practical joke on him? He frowned, and shook his head.
"Nah, I...I think I've had enough to drink already. I'm feeling kinda...weird."
Luke shrugged, and passed him his controller. Evan took a seat.
Everything still felt odd. The couch seemed too low to the ground now, his legs so long that his knees came up above his waist when he sat down. Looking down at the controller, he stared in fascination at how it looked tiny within his hands. His clothes felt odd, too, uncomfortably tight. What the hell was going on? After that, for whatever reason, another thought followed: