The Resistance

Nearly a year goes by until Drake comes running into your room waving a piece of paper.

"They did it!" He shoves the paper to you.

"They did what? What is going on?" You take it and skim over its contents. It's full of chemical formula and blueprints for a machine. "Are you gonna be in a sci-fi movie or something?"

"No! Well maybe someday! But listen, this is what we talked about crodie, remember?"

You don't, and the Drizzler, seems increasingly unhinged.

"On that night in the club, the party, where I asked you if I should get more stuff done."

"Oooh... and THIS is about that?"

"Yes! For the last year you noticed how I was working my ass off right?"

It's true. It felt like he was featured on pretty much every hit single by any pop-artist that was blowing up at the time. And he did a LOT of concerts, most of them for some royals in the middle east.

"I pumped all the dough I made this year and a HUGE chunk of my savings into R&D at this pharma company I heard about. They told me, with enough funding, they could make me look 18 again!"

"And you believed that?" Damn, they may have scammed the fuck out of him while you weren't looking. You just hope he has enough money left to pay your salary.

"Rightfully so! They now got back at me and told me they're ready. The appointment is tomorrow morning. He giddily bounces up and down clapping his hands. You really hope they can turn him young forever, so you don't have to see a grown-ass man in his 30s do that ever again.

On the next day, you and Drake drive to the facility for the appointment. A looming, sleek building out of town, its metal-plated façade glittering in the sun.

You pass a heavily armed guard who opens the gates for you once you're identified yourselves and park the limo. Drake told the driver you would drive him today, since he doesn't want anybody but you to accompany him on this trip.

Inside the building you are greeted by one more security check, and then handed over to a stern looking, female researcher. She's white and has blonde hair in a tight bun, black high-heels and a tight, black skirt and white blouse. She takes one hand off her clipboard, adjusts her glasses, and then holds it out for you to shake.

"Welcome to facility Beta, my name is Doctor Weißmann. I hope you had a safe trip out here." You notice a faint, German accent.

Drake is pretty much a child in a candy store right now, checking out every window to various testing labs, so it seems like carrying this conversation falls onto you. "It was alright." You shake her slender hand, thinking on how you'd go about tapping that ass later.

"And you can actually turn people young here?" You try your best not to sound too condescending.

"Well yes and no." Oh? At least she's somewhat honest, it seems. "We can't reverse the actual age of someone, the expiration date of the test sub..." You raise an eyebrow at her. "The patient", she corrects herself, "will not live any longer than natural after the procedure."

"Okay, so what is it you really do?" The three of you arrive at a heavy, closed door, with a scanning device next to it. She holds her face onto it as it scans her eyes, while you scan the black fabric stretching over her tight behind.

"Any changes are purely cosmetic, of course, aside from the voice. The process feminizes the patient through hormone..."

"Wait, did you say feminize?" Drake pipes up, finally deciding to join a conversation about making unimaginable, lasting changes to his body.

"Yes, the process..."

"You said you finna turn me young again. Not turn me into a woman." He pouts...

"It WILL turn your appearance young again. That is the result. But the process will require a shift in the hormonal balance of the patient. On a hormonal level, you will become more feminine, but..."

"I'm not so sure about this any more doc... what do you think?" He turns to you.