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Chance was causing trouble, as per usual. Well, that’s not how they would describe it, but the others would beg to differ.
It all started late at night in the main cabin. Most of the other survivors had gone to bed already, but Chance, Elliot, Noob, Guest, and Shedletsky were mingling on the couches and around the fire. The couches were arranged in a U-shape facing the fire, except one of them was replaced by a loveseat and a beanbag, separated by a bookshelf. Elliot and Shedletsky sat on the couch across from the fire, and Chance and Guest sat on the other. Noob was cozied up on the beanbag, knees to their chest and a Bloxy Cola in their hands. The lights were dimmer than usual, the fireplace casting a warm glow over everything and providing most of the light.
Chance swore that it was Elliot who brought it up, so really, it wasn’t their fault.
“C’mon Chance, I mean, all the clothes in the world, and you choose to wear a suit every day?”
“Real rich coming from the guy who wears a pizza boy uniform.”
“At least all my other clothes are fashionable.”
“Wuh-hey! Really, what’s wrong with ‘em? They’re special tailored just for me!”
“Oh, because of your narrow shoulders?”
A beat of silence passes.
“Because of MY WHAT??”
Noob stifles a laugh, disguising it as a cough as they lift their Bloxy Cola to their lips.
Chance jumps out of their seat, head turning wildly between Shedletsky and Guest.
“GUYS??”
Shedletsky just shoots Chance a restrained smile, obviously trying not to burst out laughing. Guest couldn’t even look Chance in the eye, instead turning his head away to hide his poorly contained smile. It wasn’t often they saw Chance so genuinely taken aback.
“C’mon, you can’t be serious!? My shoulders aren’t that narrow!”
“You just have a slim build; no shame in that,” Elliot says as she leans against the back of the couch. She didn’t bother trying to hide her grin; Chance pushed her buttons all day long, so it was sweetly vindicating to see him be the one all riled up for once.
“Ok, y’know what? Fine! You just need to be convinced.” Chance gets their signature grin again, putting their hands on their hips. “Elliot, do you have a tape measure?”
“…no?”
“Really? Well, seeing as you’re such a fashion expert, I figured you could take my measurements.” He tilts his head at her.
He…didn’t know how to respond to that. Chance had a lot of stupid ideas, yea, but Elliot just scoffed them off and moved on. A thought briefly flashes in their mind: Is he trying to flirt with me again?
Before the silence dragged on too long, Shedletsky stood up. “Ladies, ladies, let’s calm down. I’ll take it upon myself to help our dearest Chance out with his fashion disaster.”
“I think you’ll come to see that I am, in fact, a fashion genius.”
“I-if Shedletsky is helping you out, I’d say you’re already a lost cause.” Chance and Shedletsky both shoot Noob an indignant look. They have to stop themselves from choking on their sip of cola.
Instead of acknowledging the heckling, Chance starts striking poses while Shedletsky pretends to take photos of them from different angles. They start posing more egregiously, throwing their blazer back, and eventually taking it off. Noob was pretty sure at least a few of those were JoJo poses. Guest and Elliot throw each other amused glances. Maybe he was a Zara model in a past life?
If you ask Chance, it was Shedletsky’s idea for him to start unbuttoning his shirt.
“C’mon, give the people what they want!” Shedletsky whisper-shouts, acting like paparazzi now. He throws in a couple more ‘Aaaaaah, we love you!’s and ‘Chance, you’re so stunning!’s before Noob joins in with a “Do it, Chance! We’re all waiting!” Elliot turns to shoot another look at Guest, but is instead met with him cupping his mouth and leaning forward before whisper-shouting “Please, Chance! We love a show-off!”
Elliot can’t believe it. He was surrounded by idiots.
Chance pouts at Guest’s backhanded compliment for a moment before straightening up and raising his hands. “Alright, alright. If the people want me soooo bad…I guess I could give them a little taste.” They start with the first few buttons at their collar and now include furniture in their modeling endeavor. They prop one of their legs up on the coffee table and sling their blazer over their shoulder, looking off into the distance behind them (which was, in reality, just the bookshelf).
And really, the others were the ones who kept celebrating when he undid a few more buttons, so could you blame him for being a victim of peer pressure?
As he throws his shirt to the floor, he starts pulling strongman poses, flexing his (nonexistent) muscles. Shedletsky moves behind Chance, expression changing as he pulls an exaggerated contemplative face. He starts pretending to measure Chance, looking like an amateur artist trying to figure out proportions for their painting. Chance plays along, shooting smug smiles at Elliot as Shedletsky turns them around a few times. Finally, they face forward again as Shedletsky puts his hands on their shoulders.
“I’ve come to a verdict.”
Noob starts to clap, so Guest does too. Elliot throws in a few slow ones.
“Thank you, thank you,” Shedletsky says, walking to Chance’s left before taking a bow.
“Now, with the power vested in me as the great John James Shedletsky the Third, coolest admin to ever exist, and greatest swordfighter in all of the Heights, I proclaim you…” His hands return to Chance’s shoulders, and turns them towards him.
.
..
…
“Chopped.”
.
..
…
Bro.
The silence only lasts for a moment. And not a second longer. Guest snorts before his laugh turns into low, hearty chuckles. Noob’s light giggling fills the air, and Elliot lets out a few quiet snickers. Chance just stares shocked at Shedletsky as the older man tries to keep in a cackle. He does not succeed. He doubles over, hands still on Chance’s shoulders as they start sputtering indignantly.
“That-that wasn’t even what you were trying to figure out in the first place! You were supposed to be measuring my shoulders?! And you of all people can’t be saying that when you look like a fried piece of lard!” That one got a high-pitched squeak out of Noob.
But even he couldn’t ignore the infectious laughter, so he too joins in on it. Elliot would definitely make fun of him for this later. He doesn’t care. He’ll just tease them about enjoying the view.
As the sniggering died down, Chance wiped a tear from behind their sunglasses. “You guys are such assholes.”
“Right back at ya,” replies Elliot with an air of practiced banter.
Noob is about to chime in with fake distraught at being called an asshole, but Guest says something first. “What are those markings on your chest?” Everyone pauses to look at him and notices his confusion is directed at Chance.
“Uhhh, what?” They look down, but all they can see are shadows cast on their chest from the fireplace roaring behind them. They would probably be able to see better if they took off their sunglasses, but damned if they ever do that with anyone else around.
Shedletsky turns his attention back to Chance as they turn towards the fire for a better view.
“Oh, shit, yeah, are those scars??”
A sudden pang goes through Guest. Shit. He didn’t mean to bring up bad memories of the past if Shedletsky was right.
“Scars? Where??” Chance turns back to Guest. Okay, thankfully it seems like that didn’t strike a chord.
“Right here,” Guest says as he gestures two lines below his own pecs.
Chance mimics the motion before looking down again, and-
Ooooooooohhhhhh.
“Damn. Forgot I had those,” he says as his hands drop onto his hips.
“HOW do you forget you had those??” Chance turns around to see Noob giving him their best skeptic face.
Oh. Right. Noob hadn’t had the luxury of getting surgery. They were already broke enough as it was and didn’t live in a particularly great area for queer folk. They had spilled all that a few months (?) after they were first Forsakened, when they had a breakdown in Chance’s cabin one stormy night. They told him a lot of shit that night. Ever since then, the two of them became as close as they are now.
“I don’t know, I just…never really think about it anymore. It’s kinda become my new normal,” their voice turns slightly nostalgic at the end as they shrug.
Chance wasn’t exactly secretive about being trans. He made a bunch of jokes about it; if anyone bothered to listen, it wouldn’t be that hard to figure out. That is, if they even knew what he was talking about…
“Sorry if we touched on a sensitive topic…” Guest condoles in a soft voice. Classic Guest, always worrying about everyone. Strong and sensitive, that one. Chance turns to him with a smile.
“Nah, man, no worries! It’s nothin’ bad. Just top surgery scars.”
Concern enters Guest’s eyes. “You had surgery?”
Oh. So he’s really clueless.
“Yea, y’know, when they…chop off your tits?” They make a snipping motion in front of their chest before immediately pausing and looking down, then cringing and dropping their arm back to their side.
“Ooooh, I see,” Guest nodded like he was filing it away. Chance could tell he definitely did not understand, but they knew he wasn’t going to pry and potentially make them uncomfortable.
Chance hears a choked noise to the left of them and turns to see Shedletsky staring at them with mild horror on his face.
Ah, shit. What?-
In a strangled voice, Shedletsky sounds almost scared when he says:
“YOU DON’T HAVE A DICK?!”