Unavoidable Consequences

I didn't want to wake up at first. Even as my alarm softly chimed next to me, the sun piercing past my eyelids, and the combination of an empty stomach and a full bladder, I tried to ignore it all and go back to sleep. My foggy mind wanted nothing more than to retreat back into that 'dream' where I wasn't an outcast; I was the life of the party! A party where I didn't feel pressured to fit in, where I could just be me, and the world would cheer. Where people asked me to do things to bring people in, not just usher me out of the room after two hours of awkwardly staring at the wall. Damn, I had even flirted with two girls positively, back to back!

"Still," I sleepily groaned in my mind, "all good things have gotta come to an end. Come on brain, boot up so we can get this day over with."

I pulled out my phone which was charged most of the way last night before the timer ran out, so I can at least see what time it is and maybe wake up with some memes and news articles. What can I say, I liked to be informed.

The first odd thing I noticed was an article declaring that "Millennials and Generation Z are killing the **** industry, here's why." Not totally unusual, all things considered, as these ageist articles did have a habit of cropping up from time to time. I scrolled past without a second thought, **** for memes to stave off the cruel grip of "responsibility" and "self-care" for a moment longer.

That's when I noticed the other odd thing: advertisements were... off. It's typical for certain kinds of products to have young women posted in their underwear, trying to use the power of sex appeal to sell a product and the like... but things like Victoria's Secret ads actually had, for lack of a better term, "Mary-Jane" looks. The ad was trying to sell me the latest in "our lineup of flowing looks that'll drive your man crazy." The woman in the photo was odd, she had pornstar's breasts and clearly some kinda pushup bra design to enhance her curvature alongside some airbrushing no doubt... but she was wearing a summer dress of all things. Her mid-length hair was blowing in the breeze similar to her dress, showing some leg and laughing about it. Her makeup was minimal yet expert, clearly designed to be easy and quick but yet enhance her features without disguising them.

Still, I shook it off easily enough. After all, companies expand their horizons all the time, right?

Shaking off my growing unease that something was wrong, I threw on a robe to show Chris and share a cheap laugh with him. I didn't particularly care if he saw me in my boxers, but it was just a matter of politeness.

I stride into the "living room", which really just meant turning over in my bed and checking the couch. Chris wasn't there, and neither was the mess he made last night. "He was probably getting dressed in the bathroom," I figured at the time. I walked over and checked the trash to find the three bottles of beer hidden underneath empty chip bags. Still, it was looking a little on the full end, so I bagged it up and put it by the door.

Then the bathroom door opened, Chris clad in only his underwear looking at the bag in my hand as we both froze.

"Uh, hey." The words spilled out of Chris' mouth.

"Hey yourself," I responded uneasily.

We stared for a moment longer. It's not like I've never seen him undressed or anything, we both sleep like that on hot nights, but it was unusual after our morning ritual.

"So... you heading to the showers or something?" He gestured to my robe, **** to make small talk.

"Uh, no... just a little cool I guess? I thought you had morning classes today." I shot back at him.

He seemed to relax, albeit with a weird look on his face. "Nah, nothing for a bit."

We stared at each other a moment longer before I let the bag clink to the ground by the door, causing Chris to heave a long-suffering sigh.

"Alright, get it out of your system now jackass."

I arced a brow, "Get what out?"

His face reddened and he huffed with embarrassment, "Look, I know it's lame as hell to fucking drink booze, but I don't give a shit!" He exploded at me.

"Wha-" I expelled.

"No! Look, I am sick of taking shit for it. I like it, okay? My Dad drinks it, it makes me feel more confident, and I even think it tastes good! So, go ahead, try to make me feel bad for it." He says crossing his arms over his chest.

I was totally stunned for a solid half a minute, just... staring at my roommate angrily defending himself for... what, enjoying beer?

"Um... well I don't particularly mind that you do. Just, you know, enjoy responsibly?" Asking mostly myself because what the hell are you supposed to say to that? It's not like Chris struck me as the kinda alcoholic who would be this defensive until that moment.

His scowl lightened a little, him slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"I don't need your patronizing attitude, Jamie. I can take care of myself." He grumbled before marching out the door... sans any clothes.

Once again I found myself stunned for a few seconds at the sheer weirdness and audacity of my roommate before I rushed out to find him in my robe. Unfortunately, I couldn't catch up with him before he hit the elevator, the thing making its slow descent to the open lobby.

"Oh GOD! He was so pissed at me he forgot to get dressed! He's going to be humiliated if he gets down there like that. But if I get his robe to him at the bottom, then we could salvage this." The lobby level of the dorms was also where the showers were, so it was common to see guys walk around in their robes to the shower rather than risk someone stealing your clothes for an easy laugh. If I could go back to our room, which was just around the corner, grab his robe, and race down the stairs.

I was huffing and sweat-drenched by the time I had hit the bottom of the stairwell, but I ripped open the door and attempted to charge for the elevator... only for an inopportune breeze from whipping the door open to cause my pocket to get caught on the door. My robe was pulled off and my phone spilled out to the hard tile floor. Not wanting to have my caseless phone crack, I dived after it and was nearly nude as I cradled my phone, my eyes closed for the jeering laughter I knew was heading my way.

"At least I'll be the one to socially eat shit, giving Chris an out... plus, I won't have to go to that dumb party if I am a social pariah. "

The blood pounded in my ears, I was rapidly trying to make excuses in my mind, figuring out how to deal with the fallout as my mind ran wild to see what kind of whisper campaign this would start... only to hear someone offering help.

"Woah! That was a nasty spill dude. You oughta be more careful." I heard a deep voice say, feeling a hand lifting me by my shoulder.

As I am stood up, I see the broad body of a well-muscled man. His dusky skin had healthy strength and a light dusting of hair... and I could see most of it because the only piece of cloth on him was his backpack and dull blue underwear. He smiled broadly at me.

"You be more careful now, you hear?" He clapped my shoulder as he strolled off.

As he walked away, me stammering out a weak thanks, I looked around me. Everywhere, there were people in their underwear. Burly Men sporting nothing but a pair of boxers or briefs between them and the elements. Maybe if it was just them I could imagine this was some sort of prank or flash mob, but all the guys I could see were in their undies. Some of the less attractive ones still had thin tanktops on, awkwardly looking around trying to find a path through the press of bodies. Beyond that, the only exceptions were the occasional guy wearing a robe, clearly heading for the showers.

The elevator opens and Chris skulks out, but my brain was too broken trying to process what the actual living hell was going on, so he slipped on by with a scowl.

"Wha... I can't be dreaming again, can I? I don't think Inception is a real thing- plus, my body hurts from the fall! You can't hurt in a dream, right?" I pinched myself to be sure.

"Ow!" I winced.

"Alright, not dreaming or in too deep for it to matter. Right. What the fuck happened? Yesterday everyone was normal, and now everyone's acting like underwear models. Or, well, at least the guys are. So, what changed?" I wonder.

I pulled up my phone and check my school email but there is frustratingly nothing there about everyone being half-naked! I sigh and decide to go broader than that, looking up public indecency laws to see what would crop up.

As I waited for it to load, I was hugged from behind, soft skin meeting my own and two somewhat familiar globes pressed into my back.

"Hey! Crazy party last night. Can't believe you actually danced!" That oh-so-familiar voice rings out sweetly as they let me go. I sweat lightly, turning around to regard the voice.

Amy showed an innocent smile, her hair and makeup game the only normal things about her. I look down for a moment, regarding her black and lightly lacy bra, seeing how it lifted and contained the swell of her breasts with just the slightest amount of sheer fabric giving you the slightest hint of the skin underneath. My gaze skims further down past her trim and smooth tummy and to the black panties underneath. They were practical but still showed off her hips and toned ass. My eyes snap back to her gaze before I got in trouble.

Not for the first time, I wish I found something other than warm friendship and excitement in her eyes.

"So, since it's your off day and I know you're up to date on everything... You up for another big adventure?"

I manage to smile through the internal screams of confusion.