A Different Lens

If there is one thing that you haven't lacked since your transformation into a girl, it's confidence. Well, no, that's probably not correct, proportionally speaking. If there's one thing you haven't lacked since your transformation into a girl, it's boobs. Confidence is probably the second thing though. Maybe third or fourth after fitness goals and loosening sexual hang-ups. It's in the top five. This has gone off the rails.

The point is, you can't recall ever having been more composed and on point than you've been the last few days. Your old method of facing the day was mostly based around berating yourself in the shower afterwards about what you should have said in the moment, which might be a classic but is not a particularly satisfying way to go through life. But now that you're the New You, you'd vainly hoped that those days were behind you.

Which is why it's so damn frustrating to be sitting here in Isabelle's car, suffering in excruciatingly awkward silence.

This is so fucking dumb. You guys are friends now, aren't you?! You've been hanging out and talking with her more or less nonstop for the last two days! Getting a ride home should not be enough to put you out for the count. Does it really make so much of a difference that Jenny isn't around? You sneak a glance at Isabelle and immediately confirm that yes, it really does. You're still only sort of aware of what 'You' did in this version of reality before you popped in, but you have your suspicions that your trio might be a relatively recent phenomenon. Jenny has been your friend since you were little girls; even if you didn't know that deep in your bones, you've actually seen photographic evidence and shit. But with Isabelle? You don't know. It feels kinda weird.

Not that 'Kinda Weird' is strictly bad, of course. Your relationship with her is 'Kinda Weird' in that sure, you get embarrassed if you think she notices you looking at her, but also in that sometimes she smiles when she notices you looked at her, and it makes your heart melt together with your brain and drop down to explode all over your pussy. Like, your relationship with Jenny is rock solid, and you don't think it would be possible for you to feel uncomfortable around her. But she also doesn't make your brain and heart give you pussy explosions, despite being by any reasonable account an absolute goddamn babe. It's just different with Isabelle, and you know what? Fuck it. You're in for that. Just talk to her, New Ash.

"So, ah..." You bounce your feet a little, not entirely thrilled with how this is starting, "...weird couple of days, right?"

Ugh. New Ash. Weak. Still, Isabelle is apparently more than eager to grasp for even the feeblest line, if it means dragging the two of you out of this sucking quagmire. "For real. Who would have thought that Face Takers wasn't going to be the weirdest thing that happened to me this week?"

Oh shit, that's right! "Isabelle, I totally forgot I was supposed to pick out another movie for you."

The girl waves her hand dismissively, giving you a rueful grin. "Something tells me you had a few other things on your mind."

"Still! Fuck, now I really have to knock this next one out of the park. Anticipation has built up!"

Isabelle hums thoughtfully. "Hm, you might be right. There's a lot of buzz out there for Insane Movie Selection Number Two. That sort of hype can really turn on you."

"Oh, I know it. I for sure know it." Isabelle laughs at your non-joke as she pulls into your neighborhood. Ugh, she's fun. Now you really do have to do something special. You nearly began to take inventory of your stack of B movie rips when you realized that thinking was a holdover from a previous life. You're New Ash now, and New Ash can absolutely do special. "You know, how about I don't lend you the next movie."

Isabelle raises her eyebrows, looking a little taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"Anything I could give you would just be another shitty DVD copied from a shittier VHS. But who needs that noise? You can just come over and watch the next one!"

Isabelle still looks a little taken aback, though now her cheeks are starting to color a touch. "Over...to your house?"

"Yeah!" You're starting to get excited. "I've got a bunch of those movies on actual thirty-five millimeter prints. And we've got a killer viewing room! I mean, the proper way to see these movies would be at a drive-in, but this is definitely the next best thing. That sounds way better, right?"

"That...does sound pretty fun. Just the two of us?"

"Definitely. I mean, anyone who's willing to give something like Face Takers a shot deserves to experience these how they are meant to be seen."

Isabelle seems like she is about to say one thing, but her expression abruptly shifts as she pulls into your driveway. "How they are meant to be seen. Huh."

You tilt your head to one side. "What's up?"

"It's nothing, it's just..." Isabelle furrows her eyebrows, mulling something over. "I'm thinking about what that girl at the coffee shop said. About how she couldn't remember what the Mysterious Voice looked like."

"Yeah, creepy right? That's definitely some sort of spell."

"Sure, but what do you think it actually does? Like, is it some sort of visual scrambler she puts on like a mask? Or does it short out your short term memory of her specifically? It's magic, sure, but it has to be doing something specific, right?"

"Oh. Um, probably? I guess I haven't been thinking about this stuff more in-depth than 'Yay Magic' or 'Oh No Magic'."

Isabelle can't resist a laugh at that. "Uh yeah, obviously. So okay, related question. Why did that first spell you gave me work?"

"Why did it work? Because I copied it out of the book for you, right?"

"Well sure, but why did you have to copy it? Why not just have me read straight from the original page?"

You frown at that, trying to catch up with wherever Isabelle is taking you. "Because you couldn't read it; the spells are only readable by someone who's connected to the book."

"Not quite, Ash." Isabelle puts her car into park outside your front door before shifting in her seat to face you. "The spells are only readable by someone who's connected to the book and anyone that person knows, if they have the incredible power of owning pencils and paper. Doesn't that seem like an oversight?"

You bite your lower lip, considering that. "....Yeah, it does. What are you getting at?"

"Just this,"--she snaps out her phone--"That apparently, ancient magic doesn't always account for more modern complications."

With that, she begins typing away into her phone, leaving you to stew in your suspense. You can only last a moment before you just have to know more. "Who are you texting?"

"Carol Jones."

"The District Manager? Why?"

"Because Starbucks have security cameras."

"I don't...oh. Oh!"

Isabelle nods proudly, folding her arms in self-satisfaction. "So she's going to look over the footage from today and see if-" She's cut off by her phone buzzing in her grip. "...wow, that was fast."

"I guess it's easy when you only have one customer all day?" You scoot closer to Isabelle. "What'd she find?"

Isabelle leans in to you, raising her phone so you can both inspect the photo Mrs. Jones had sent you. It's pretty blurry, seeing as its a mobile snapshot of a video still pulled up on a laptop, but it's clear enough to set the scene. There's Riot, looking about as annoyed as one can look while holding a Peppermint Mocha, and an older woman with very straight blonde hair in an expensive-looking pantsuit. She's maybe somewhere in her forties and even in this low of quality is definitely quite good-looking, or at least as good-looking as someone clearly in the middle of demanding to speak to the manager can be. You honestly can't make her out all that well with just this, but the fact that you can see her at all is a huge step forward.

Fuck, this is huge isn't it? You couldn't hold back your gleeful chortle even if you wanted to as you turn your head towards Isabelle. "Isabelle, you are a fucking genius and I love you."

Isabelle grins at that, raising a hand to offer a high five that you eagerly accept. Your hands slap together and your fingers lace, the two of you beaming at once another for a long, deliriously happy moment before it starts to sink in that you are holding hands, and also your faces are only inches away from each other. Also you said you loved her? Friends say that too; it wasn't weird right? Oh fuck it was weird, fuck fuck fuck. Isabelle's smile is starting to visibly quiver, the girl swallowing as her green eyes dart towards your still-entwined fingers. You'd better say something quick.

"Um do you want to come in--" "Well ah I should get going I guess--" You both helplessly babble over each other, fingers regretfully tracing one another as you simultaneously pull away your hands.

Isabelle blinks as you quickly grab your bag, all but throwing open her passenger side door. "No, um, you're right; you should get going. Long day today! And you know, we're still in peril! So much peril. We'll talk tomorrow, okay? Let's talk about this tomorrow." You wince as you shut the car door behind you, hoping that if you spasm hard enough you can short circuit your stupid goddamn chattering mouth. You take a deep breath, holding your back to the car in the vain hope that you'll be able to steady yourself, before turning around to give Isabelle what has to be the dumbest looking smile of your life. "Night Isabelle!"

She gives you that little wave of hers as she starts her car back up and begins to pull out of your driveway, a little more of that molten twistiness swirling into your deep embarrassment. Fuck. You know you should be focused on getting the raw footage from Mrs Jones to get a clearer identification of the Mysterious Voice? Or at the very least you should take a page out of Old Ash's handbook and go up to take a shower and berate yourself. But all you can think about right now is how nice Isabelle's fingers felt tangled up in yours, and how her beautiful face was so close to yours that you could nearly taste her.

Yuuup, this is definitely a five alarm heart-brain-pussy situation. Mysterious Voice is going to have to wait, because right now you've got to go upstairs and wreck some more clean sheets. You supposed that's the New Ash way of dealing with embarrassing social miscues. It's not perfect, but it's certainly an improvement.