Chapter Text
The man looking down at me is undeniably attractive. His neat hair holds the slightest curl about the ears, his skin smooth and flawless, and a secretive grin pulls back just enough to reveal perfectly straight teeth. He’s larger than me, tall, broad across the chest. There’s a sharpness to his features, too, from his jawline to his heavy brow to the definition of his muscle.
“What do you think?” CC purrs just behind my ear.
I think I’m going to be sick.
“Do you want that? We could–”
“No,” I cut off, tearing my eyes away from the fun house image as I try to stomp down on the rising nausea. “No, thank you. I’m alright the way I am.”
CC seems to faulter for a half second before leaning until we’re eye level. It takes effort not to squirm under that piercing scrutiny. Her expression slackens the slightest bit.
She spins me by the shoulders. “What about this?”
The person in the tapestry this time is me, but different. Like the man before, the cheeks are high, but they lack the cutting angles. Everything is a bit softer. The long curls and bowed lips are reminiscent of my mother, and the way the dress flows and settles…
She’s stunning.
“Is this better?” CC asks.
I jump as my face floods with warmth. I had completely forgotten that I wasn’t alone. Fuck, I’m such a creep. Who sees a female version of himself and immediately get distracted gawking at her? I wait for CC to kick me out and try not to shoot the curtain any more glances.
“I see,” she says, somehow, impossibly, softer.
She steps over to the bar, filling a glass with water. Her hand hovers over a drawer for moment, but then it moves two down and to the left. She snags a packet from inside, tears the top, and dumps it in, movements brisk and practiced.
“I’ll have the girls get you made over, then we’ll start you on a long-term plan. But first, drink this.”
The guinea pigs squeal.
I hesitantly accept the proffered cup, bright like orange juice. “What is this?” I ask.
She looks at me in a way that has me feeling seen. “The first step to improving yourself is acknowledging that you’re not happy as you are. This will help reveal your true self.”
CC is tall and beautiful and has such a sweet voice, and I feel entirely inadequate in her presence. My shame resurfaces, no longer for my interest in the girl in the tapestry, but for myself and how much less I am. Struck by a surge of recklessness and something harder to name, I down the drink. It really does taste of oranges.
The warmth starts out comforting, but then it spreads, burning beyond my stomach. Soon lava is searing through my veins, stealing my breath. There’s a distant sound of shattering glass as I keel forward. By the time I can blink past the black spots, the pain has receded and the curtain is gone.
I don’t immediately understand what I’m seeing. My reflection is much the same as before, until my eyes drift lower. There’s nothing immediately obvious, but everything fits slightly differently.
I freeze.
A hand rests on my shoulder, but I can’t look away.
“Melvina here is going to take care of you. Go along now.”
It takes entirely too long to notice I had left the room. My head is so full it feels empty. I know I should be taking in the details of this unknown place, but nothing really registers. I catch blue and white as we pass deeper into the island. A mid-length skirt, steady hands, almond eyes.
Awareness floods back as I sink into water.
There’s a woman nearby, muttering softly while sorting through bottles. When she notices me staring, her smile seems genuine.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” she draws warmly, crouching beside the small pool. “You back with us?”
I’m not sure how to feel about this stranger having seen me so obviously zoned out. I’m not sure how to feel about a lot of things.
I blink and nod.
She looks understanding. “It can be a bit overwhelming. I was new like you once. It’s a lot.”
I don’t know what to do with that either. I nod again.
“I’m Melvina,” she introduces. “Is there anything you like to be called?”
“Percy,” I say.
“Percy,” she echoes, like telling her my name is some sort of achievement. “Well Percy, I’ve got some oils here to help clean you up. If you do your body, I’ll get your hair. I know I always feel better when I’m fresh.”
That’s when I realize that I’m completely nude. I look down, and the changes are far more obvious like this. I run my hand across my chest, down my stomach, taking in the texture. I peer lower and would have spread my legs to see better if there wasn’t an audience. It occurs to me that Melvina had seen me before I had.
Not that it matters. It’s not like this is my real body.
I accept the soap and begin scrubbing, ignoring the stranger’s fingers in my hair. I force the stiffness from my frame and focus on the scent of lavender.
Before my mom married, back when the only landlords who would take us were the ones breaking several building codes, we lived down the hall from an old woman who always smelled of lavender. She put sprigs of it in her dresser drawers, claimed it kept the moths away. I asked if it worked on roaches, too. I don’t remember what she said, only that she had laughed.
I forego the towel as I stand from the bath, instead willing myself dry and snatching the robe. It’s a bit ridiculous just how tightly I wrap it around myself. Even if this was me, I’d have no modesty left to preserve. I tell myself I’m just anxious to have a pocket again. It is true. Fiddling with Riptide helps ground me.
After that, I’m whisked off again. There’s lotions and oils and scrubs and so many hands. I feel a bit like Dorothy having just arrived in Oz. As they braid my short hair like a crown, I can’t shake the image of the Cowardly Lion with a perm and a little red bow.
Then Melvina is back (had she left?) to take me to get properly dressed.
“Today’s your day to try things, to treat yourself,” she explains. “Don’t worry about what you’ve worn in the past or what might be more practical in the future. Just have fun!”
Before I know it, we’re surrounded by shimmering, draping fabrics and designer clothes. It’s not until I catch Melvina’s expectant look that I realize I’m supposed to do something. Done with being lead around, I set my shoulders and march between the stacks and racks.
It would be easier if I knew what I was searching for.
“Is it by size?” I ask, figuring I could just grab the first thing that fits.
“They’re magically tailored,” she chirps. “Anything you put on should readjust.”
Well, isn’t that helpful?
“I can pick a few things,” Melvina offers, “get you started. Any preferences?”
“Pockets,” I answer, no hesitation.
She snorts, loud. “You and me both.”
I follow behind as she selects a variety off the shelves. The quality is evident, but I lack the fashion sense truly form much of an opinion. I don’t object to any of her choices, not even the skirts. I try not to think too hard on that.
While Melvina expounds the qualities of wide leg versus skinny, my eyes latch onto blue. Like the tapestry CC was working on at our arrival, the fabric looks like real running water. I allow myself to be drawn closer. It’s a dress, an older style with a loose skirt.
Melvina plucks it off the hanger and shoves it toward me. “Perfect. Try this one first.”
There is, thankfully, a changing area. Unfortunately, the mirrors sit outside it. I stand behind the curtain, more alone than I have been since arriving, and wonder what I’m doing. This whole place feels like a fever dream, distant and strange. I need to find Annabeth and get out of here, finish this quest. I slide on the dress (which – yay! – has pockets) and step out in the hopes of hurrying along.
My resolve faulters when I pass the mirrors. The loose Greek style of the sleeveless gown adds to a figure I do not have. Despite having barely enough hair to reach the braid, they’d managed to weave gold into its crown. There’s even make-up on my face, which I don’t recall anyone applying. It’s not quite me, but there’s more than a small part of me that wishes it were.
“You look amazing, sweetheart!” Melvina gushes. “Absolutely stunning! Have you twirled yet?”
“What?” I ask, vaguely annoyed by how frequently I keep getting caught off guard.
“Anytime you wear a dress or skirt, you must check it for twirlability,” she bestows, like it’s some sage wisdom. “That means you spin.”
Seeing no reason to argue, I place one foot forward and turn on the balls of my feet in something resembling a sword fighting maneuver. Instantly, the skirt flairs out, hem rippling as silken waves crash about my calves.
“Oh.”
I do it again, and again, and again, until I feel flushed and dizzy.
Melvina watches me steady my feet, beaming in what seems to be vicarious joy. “Looks like a keeper,” she claps. “Let’s go meet back up with Miss CC.”
If I look down while swinging my steps just a bit more than necessary, she doesn’t call me on it.
There is a simple joy in feeling pretty, and for a moment I allow myself to fall into it. I’m more aware as we pass through the resort this time and notice how some of the girls wave to Melvina and, oddly, me.
“That’s Aubry,” Melvina fills in. “Xiao Ling. Henry. Marianna.”
“Henry?” I repeat, looking at the redheaded teen. “Isn’t that…” I almost ask ‘Isn’t that a boy’s name?’ before a bit of self-awareness kicks in.
Melvina seems to hear it anyway and only shrugs. “Henry’s a girl, so Henry’s a girl name.”
As we round a bend, I give in to the urge to extend my turn into a full twirl. The motion has all the satisfaction of dropping a really big rock into still water. I do it once more as I enter the room.
CC is there, looking softer than before and a touch amused. Annabeth has returned as well, obviously having received a similar treatment. She is gorgeous enough to leave me tongue-tied, but seems uncomfortable in her silk gown and made-up face.
She seems only vaguely curious as she initially looks me over, but then her eyes blow wide. She gasps, “Percy?”
And with that, everything I hadn’t been feeling comes crashing down with all the grace of an anvil.
What am I doing here, playing dress up? My calloused hands are rough against the fine silk. I feel clumsy and awkward and as creepy as I had staring at the woman in the tapestry, only it’s worse this time because Annabeth is here. Shame, heavy and slick, writhes through my abdomen, snaking its way up to choke me.
Annabeth focusses all the fury of her indignance on CC. “What did you do to him?”
CC glares back. “All I do here is reveal people’s true forms.” From the corner, the guinea pigs squeal louder. “I thought you’d be happy that she could stay with you while working on sorcery.”
Annabeth looks between CC and the guinea pigs for a moment. “CC… You’re Circe, the witch. But why…?” Her gaze flits back to me.
“I reveal true forms,” she repeats. “Men are pigs, but I’d never turn away a young lady.”
Annabeth’s hand twitches towards her dagger. I take that as my cue to step in.
“You’d really let us stay here?” As every eye fixes on me, I’m suddenly grateful that the magic OJ seemed to have put a stop to my voice cracking.
“Of course, my dear,” Circe soothes. “Even if you don’t have a knack for the finer spell weaving, you have more than enough power. Perhaps a soothsayer? We’ll find you a place where you can grow and belong.”
It doesn’t take much to let uncertainty bleed through. I play with the skirt. It really is soft.
“You’ve been so kind,” I tell her, unsure if it’s a lie. “Can we have the night to think it over?”
Circe studies me for a long moment before hesitantly nodding and having us taken to where we would be staying.
Annabeth still hasn’t looked away. It doesn’t bother me. Really.
I feel bad knocking out Melvina, but we really do need to go. We sneak onto a boat, the lines and sails jumping to action in my presence, and sail off in our stolen pirate ship.
It’s okay. It’s not really stealing if it’s from pirates.
As the island fades from view, Annabeth approaches me on the bow.
“Are you alright?” she asks.
I nod like I don’t know exactly what she’s referring to. “Yeah, I’m fine. You?”
There’s something sharp in her gaze, but then she sighs and holds up the bottle of multivitamins from Hermes. “If these are what I think they are, they should be able to turn you back to normal. Just try–”
We both freeze, locking wide, shocked eyes as a faint splash sounds. My hand is still out from where I slapped the vitamins from her grasp. Before I can second guess the wisdom in casting aside a gift from a god, a nearby dolphin snatches it up, singing something about freedom.
“Whoops,” I say, going for nonchalant. “I guess I’ll just have to deal.”
“I guess,” Annabeth agrees distractedly.
I focus on moving the ship faster, and that’s that.
When I pull my braid out that night, I tuck away the strand of gold, only to avoid being wasteful.