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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1000158-Chens-and-Chelseabots
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by Seuzz
Rated: GC · Book · Occult · #2183311
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises.
#1000158 added December 13, 2020 at 11:51am
Restrictions: None
Chens and Chelseabots
Previously: "The Pleasant Phucker

Chen is going to make stink about the money if you go through with making a bunch of fembots, and there's no way you're going to share them or the profits with him, so you are going to have to deal with him eventually. You have the materials with you, so you decide that there's no time like the present.

After Rockbot-Gordon has wandered back toward the school, you sit a few minutes in the Jeep, texting Chelsea and telling her to meet you in the fuck room during the next class she can afford to skip. Her reply comes after the next bell has rung: Lol y fuck I want do that? To your reply Emergency, though, she relents. Last pd, she says. That's when you have Orchestra, one class you absolutely cannot skip, so you bully her into skipping seventh period instead. You are tardy getting to your AP Statistics class, but at least you are set up for the period after.

* * * * *

You beat Chelsea to the fuck room by less than a minute, and are waiting for her outside the door as she comes clambering up the stairs. "God," she growls as she clomps her way up. "This better be important."

"It will be," you promise her. "So, I guess you got a key to the place again."

"It came with Seth." She makes a face. "I fucking hate having to ride his ass, and every other fucking part of him, but—" She huffs out a short, sharp breath as she draws up next to you. "Tell your guy he might be moving."

"Moving? You mean out of Seth? How come?" You don't care what the answer is—Chen's not going to be in charge much longer—but you are curious enough to ask while waiting for her to unlock the door.

"On account of I might have a better place for him, dur! Frank Durras hasn't got a key to this place yet, but—"

"Who's Frank Durras?"

She does a double-take at you. "Are you serious?"

"Oh, the fuck do I care? Just get the door open so we can—"

"One of the new guys? Don't you pay attention, you fucking freak?" she demands as she fumbles inside her pack for the key.

"I pay attention if it matters. Does this Frank Durras fuck matter to me?"

"He matters to me. Maybe. God, are you really that clueless? Oh, fuck me, look who I'm talking to. I know I wasn't that clueless when I looked like that."

Just keep talking like that, dickface, you think. I'll take you out someplace quiet after you're a rockbot, and I'll fuck you up the ass for each time you cuss at me. No, make that twice up the ass for each cuss word.

"He's one of the new basketball players. Jesus, I thought you of all people would have been paying attention. 'Cos a fucking little douchebag named 'Will Prescott' also made it onto the team, you know. Lemme guess." She turns a shrewd stare onto you as she sticks the key into the lock. "It's really Gordon."

You are very confused by all this, but mention of the person who has taken your place has at last gotten your attention. So after she unlocks the door and pushes it open, you hold back from tearing her face off long enough to put some questions to her. She can hardly believe you're that oblivious, but she explains:

After Gordon got cut from the squad, word went out that there would be tryouts to replace him. Initially the tryouts were only open to guys on the JV squad. But then word came that two Eastman High students would be moving to Westside: Frank and Joe Durras. Both were stars on the Eastman High basketball team, and so naturally the Westside coaching staff (and Steve Patterson) wanted them on Westside's team. Because (for reasons that you don't understand) the basketball team is strictly limited in the number of players that can be on it, there wouldn't be room to add both of them without cutting another player, so the squad opened up the tryouts to everyone, and forced everyone currently on the squad to try out again. The upshot was that three players got cut, and four new players added: Frank and Joe Durras, Adam Dortch, and Will Prescott.

"I got to see Frank and his brother in action today," Chelsea concludes. "I'll get to see them tonight, too, 'cos we're having a cookout at my place, just for them and the rest of the team. Including Will Prescott. Pssh! But they're going places, I heard that they're both even better than Patterson. I can believe it, because Jesus, he was acting at lunch like someone had stepped really hard on his dick. Anyway, they don't have keys to this place yet, but if they're really that good, Steve's gonna have to give 'em one, and when he does I think I'm gonna trade Seth in for one of them. Probably Frank." Her gaze goes distant. "There's something about him that—"

Okay, she's satisfied your curiosity and you don't need to hear more. You grab her around the waist with one hand, and grab her face with the other. She yelps, and tries to struggle, but you've got too firm a grip on her, and a few seconds later she goes limp in your arm.

It's Gary Chen who you lower to the floor.

* * * * *

You had to strip his shoes—Chelsea's shoes—off his too-big feet when he started to groan, but he's small enough and Chelsea's clothes are floppy enough that he didn't bust anything after materializing inside her things. You work quickly to get the rockbot paste-and-hair combo into Chelsea's mask, then you set it back on him. Her eyes instantly blink open, and she sits up with a start. "The fuck?" she exclaims, then reddens when she sees you. "What did you—?" She throws a weak-ass punch at you as you squat over her.

"Stop that," you say, and with a gasp she pulls back from a second punch. "What's your name?"

"Chelsea Cooper," she says. Then she frowns. "Except—"

"That's right, you're Chelsea Cooper," you tell her. "That's who you are and who you've always been. Do you understand?"

"I understand that," she grumbles.

"And who's your boss?"

Her mouth works silently for half a second, as though trying to hold back the answer. "You are."

"That's right. And who am I?"

"You're my boss." Her brow furrows. "Gary Chen. Except—"

"That's right," you tell her. "I'm Gary Chen. I've always been Gary Chen. Of course I've always been Gary Chen. I mean, look at me. Who else would I be? So, who am I?" you ask again, and you ask it three more times, until her answers are confident and unquestioning.

It's interesting to learn that it looks like you can reprogram her knowledge and memories. You'd seen a hint of it with Rockbot-Gordon, but thought maybe that was just Dane being spacey. Now you settle down with Chelsea, and bit by bit you systematically convince her that she has always been Chelsea Cooper, that she has nothing to do with the sale of drugs inside Westside High, that she has never talked to or hung out with David Kirkham, Tanner Evans, George Mendoza, or any of the other lowlifes that are Gary Chen's close companions, and that she never talks to you and never is to talk to you, unless you call or text her ahead of time. She is also not to disclose to anyone that you are her (secret!) boss.

"And tomorrow," you inform her at the end of it all, "you will bring me all the cash you have at home."

"Yes sir," she says in a small, hurt voice.

You stare down at her, and for a moment you are sorely tempted to tear a bloody kiss from her quivering mouth, and to tell her to come find you after school. But until you get things set up to your satisfaction, it seems better to leave things as normal as possible.

"One last question," you ask as you back up toward the door to the loft. "Where's Gary Chen?"

She looks confused and even a little disgusted. "You're him," she blurts out. "What are you asking me these questions for?"

"You wanna buy some ganja off me?"

"Eww, no!" She looks deeply insulted.

That'll do, you decide, and tell her to go to class and then go home and have her party for the new basketball players.

* * * * *

New basketball players. It gives you reason for thought.

Oh, not on account of the guys from Eastman, who Chen was jizzing all over himself about. You couldn't give a fuck about them.

No, it's on account of a guy who looks like Will Prescott getting onto the squad. Why didn't Caleb—who is currently being Seth Javits, basketball player—tell you? You text him on your way out to the parking lot after school. Ditch chels n call me.

You're on your way to the Panda Garden for your usual Monday-afternoon meal when he rings. "Yo, what's the fucking deal with the basketball squad?" you bark as soon as you've got the phone to your ear. You glare at the traffic as you hurtle down Borman Road, when you'd rather be glaring at Javits.

"Don't you know? Don't you pay attention?" he peevishly asks.

"No I don't. I had to hear about it from Chelsea. She told me that Will Prescott got on."

"Yes," Javits sighs. "I didn't text you or anything 'cos I figured you heard and would want to gloat."

"Was he good?"

"Good enough to get one of the slots. But, you know, it was Gordon powering his carcass. Oh, and Jeremy's off the squad. You know, Richards."

"Fuck, but that makes me so happy I'm hard." Jeremy Richards is a former friend of yours and Caleb's.

"So, what are you gonna do?" Seth asks.

That's what you were going to think about while eating.

Next: "The One Who Once Was You


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