Getting dressed after the showers Patrick looked at himself in the cabin mirror again. He couldn't believe this was him. His fingers twitched as if wanting to dig in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes he knew wasn't there.
"Come on, Patrick. We're going to be late." Cameron said from the door, seemingly expecting the mouse to instantly hop to follow after him.
"Go ahead, I'll catch up. I need to take care of something." It hurt to say those words, he wanted to trail off after the tanuki and just let this world take over. Cameron looked skeptical but nodded and headed off. Patrick instantly went to his gear and started turning it inside out, there had to be cigarettes in here somewhere. Aha! He plucked out the crushed box from the bottom of his bag, flipped it open, and found it completely empty. The camp was fucking with him at this point.
"I told you there's no smoking on camp grounds." Patrick jumped at the voice and turned to find Soren staring at him.
"You! You did this to me." He hated how his squeaky voice made that sound more petulant and whiney than angry.
"Technically, you did this to you." Soren walked into the cabin and took a seat, crossing his arms over his powerful chest and staring at the mouse. "The camp is creative that way. Good people, like Cameron, get a little reward. They get to become someone they want to be, a second chance to be someone else. Assholes get forms to teach them lessons. Some are more obvious than others."
Patrick balled up his fists, wanting to take a swing at Soren. He could remember their chat in the parking lot, talking down to the bear. Now the thought of doing that terrified him. "So now I have to be a gay little mouse boy?"
"For the weekend." Soren said with a shrug. "If you learn your lesson, maybe the camp lets you go. Maybe you learn to like it and you can keep that body. Maybe if you do a good job learning your lesson the camp will reward you. It's changed people mid-weekend, it's already happened this time." The bear dangled that little bit of hope out in front of the mouse.
Patrick dropped on his bed, slumping over. He could feel tears running down his face. He hadn't cried in years. It wasn't manly. He mocked men who cried.
Soren reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, holding it out to the mouse. The bear didn't smoke, but he had confiscated some off on of the older campers. Patrick took it and looked down at it. It felt like he was holding his old life in his hands. "Believe it or not, Patrick, you still have a choice here. The camp is only stubborn with those that refuse to learn." The bear got up and left the cabin, leaving the mouse there alone to think.
He was old, tied, and unhappy. Was another chance at life really a bad thing? Even if that life was as a little mouse boy who wanted to be sandwiched between two beefy jocks? Cameron on one side, Zack on the other, and him pressed between those two muscly bodies. The cig snapped in his hand as he clenched his fist. With a sigh he tossed it in the trash can. Maybe the camp would have pity on him if he behaved, or learned his lesson, but how did he show that. What was it even trying to teach him.
He dried his eyes and got up, heading out of the cabin to go catch up with Cameron.