Timothy stood before his bedroom mirror clutching the empty black bottle. "Every Girl's Dream Potion" he
read
it over and over 100 times. He could feel the churning in his stomach and the pulse of his heart as his veins
pumped the foreign fluid throughout his body. He could even feel his skin itching and knew the change
couldn't be far off. Being small and unpopular most of his life Timothy couldn't help but be excited. He
hoped this would be his turning moment, he could end up a big jock or a hot actor. Maybe even be Zac Efron.
His eyes glazed over at the thought of possessing those large muscles and having girls everywhere faint at his
smile. But he could feel the itching intensify and knew he wouldn't have much longer to wait to see what he
ended up. His height slowly began to increase.
Being body shy, Timothy was still wearing all his clothes which weren't taking his new height well.
Already his pale, flat stomach was fully exposed, and his jeans now rested just below his knees but nothing
was too much tighter thankfully. He smiled, almost jumping in joy as his skin began to tan from his ghastly
shade but it settled a few shades too light to be Zac's, much to his
disappointment. His muscles also began to grow, but again not as much as he had hoped. His chest pushed out
developing some slight tone, like a teen athlete maybe or someone who takes care of themselves. Nothing like
a model or dedicated bodybuilder. His pecs were very neatly outlined against his shirt and he could see the
beginning of a six pack which was more than he had before at least. While he admired his toned stomach
Timothy saw something that made his face pale. An invisible hand seemed to be drawing something there, a very
small bird. Timothy wasn't the most well versed kid but he knew who this tattoo belonged to. His thoughts
whirred as he wondered if he could make himself throw up the potion, or maybe go back for an antidote? But
no, he didn't even know where the shop was and he had maybe minutes left. It was already too late. Already
his arms were developing a decent amount of muscle to match his chest and more tattoos were scrawling
themselves across his body including several on his left arm. He banged his head against he mirror in sadness
and frustration, feeling his legs grow longer and more muscular and his feet get bigger to match. True, he
wasn't pale and frail anymore, but was this really worth it? His face, he knew it was going to go sooner or
later. He watched it barely seem to age despite the difference in years, becoming almost androgynous in
appearance as his hair shortened on the side and thrust itself straight up in spikes.
The only thing worse than now wearing Justin Bieber's infamous face was that he could even hear Justin's
thoughts in his own mind and he knew very soon they would be inseparable from his own. Against his will he
slowly removed his shirt, feeling a smile flick into place. A practiced swag fell upon his stance as he
dripped cockiness and began to
tease himself in the mirror. 'Practicing' for his fans. Wait, no, he didn't have fans. He was just a nerdy
loner. Shut up, said a louder voice in his head, you are a teen idol, you are every girl's dream, just like
you wanted to be. Accept it. He felt all the good and bad flood him, he remembered starting off being just a
naive boy who liked to sing, he remembered the fame how he lusted for more. How he enjoyed the attention. He
felt a new craving for love struck girls, for weed, for luxury. All the corruption of the spotlight driving
his old self out. He yelped, and noticed even his voice was the voice of Bieber's now. He removed the last
of his clothes, admiring his slightly larger equipment and his toned but youthful appearance. He struggled
for a moment more before being completely silenced.
"Wassup, how you like being every girls dream nerd boy? Hope you like it, I sure do..." said the new
Justin
as he asserted himself and prepared to go out and score.