Bide Time at the Bar Something's Changed: A Transformation Story chapter 6 by deleted_user

You stay for a little while, watching Liam and Maya move through the crowd. They are a blur of motion and laughter, a beautiful, dazzling vortex of fun. You feel a pang of longing, a sudden, sharp ache for the kind of uninhibited freedom they seem to embody. You’d been invited to the party, but you’d declined, and now you were stuck on the sidelines.

With a heavy sigh, you get up from the table. You weave through the throng of bodies, a lone satellite in a galaxy of stars, and make your way to the bar. You order a drink, your mind still buzzing with the image of Liam, now a woman, laughing with unbridled joy.

A moment later, a cute girl with short, choppy black hair and a septum piercing takes the stool next to you. She orders a beer, her eyes scanning the room as she waits. You feel a surge of courage.

"Hey," you say, your voice a little shaky. "Great music, right?"

She turns to you, her dark eyes sparkling with amusement. "Yeah, I guess," she says, a playful smile on her lips. "It's a little loud for my taste, but it's a good beat for sure."

You open your mouth to respond, but a tall, muscular guy with a smug grin and a tight t-shirt slides in between you and the girl, effectively cutting off your conversation.

"Hey, beautiful," he says to the girl, his voice a little too loud, a little too confident. "You come here often?"

She rolls her eyes, clearly not impressed. "I'm not interested," she says, turning her back to him.

He ignores her, turning his attention to you. "Look, man, I don't know who you are, but you're in my way." He shoves you, just a little, a clear challenge in his eyes.

You feel a flicker of anger. "Back off, dude," you say, your voice low and steady. "I was talking to her."

He laughs, a short, sharp bark. "I can see that. But I’m not really asking, am I?" He turns back to the girl, a cocky grin on his face.

You feel a familiar helpless rage bubbling up inside you. You want to punch him, to knock that smug look off his face, but you know it wouldn't do any good. He'd just laugh and call you a loser.

Then, you have a thought. A terrible, wonderful, terrifying thought. You still have the pill. You can still let go. But not for yourself. For him. You reach into your pocket, your fingers closing around the cold, smooth plastic of the Shebang. You look at the guy, his back to you, still trying to get the girl's attention. He doesn't even know you exist.

Your heart pounds in your chest, a frantic drumbeat against your ribs. You could just... slip it in his drink. No one would ever know. And by the time he realized what had happened, you'd be long gone.