Chapter 6                     

 Next stop on the list was all about shopping.

Kris had never given two holy s about what he wore. As long as it was clothes and it covered his body, he was satisfied. But a closet stuffed with 10 identical grey t-shirts and 2 pairs of the same blue jeans apparently wasn't the dress code for a bad boy.

"I look ridiculous." Kris came out of the changing room in some trendy men's store. Kris had tailed Mark through the store, carrying whatever the other male had thrown at him. And that's pretty much how he ended up wearing a metallic, shimmering silver shirt with fringes and white skinny jeans, with an emphasis on the skinny.

"Until you get rid of that baby bump, you'll look ridiculous in anything. Oh that reminds me. You're fat and you don't eat from now on."

A look of hurt replaced Kris's expression of embarrassment.

"Hmm.. Turn around. Slower! And again..." Mark's words trailed off at the sight of Kris's tight buttocks which the white fabric ever so nicely revealed.

"Oh yeah." Mark, realizing his little comment, quickly recovered with a "No homo" before turning his attention to one of the sales assistants.

"We'll take the three pants and the shirts and t-shirts two sizes smaller, thank you. Oh and do you have sunglasses?"

"Why would I need sunglasses? It's the middle of November." Kris handed the clothes to the assistant rather unwillingly.

"Trust me. You'll need them."                        

Salon 'Swag Dem es' was their last stop for the day. Kris mentally deadpanned at the sight of the bright  pink neon sign. If it was gay to write poetry and keeping a diary, then knowing such... exotic salon, what would that make Mark?  

Kris was once again more or less forced into taking a seat while Mark was in deep discussion with a turquoise-haired male hairdresser. They were arguing about  ways to turn a plain Kris into a bad boy. In the end Kris just closed his eyes and let them do whatever the hell they wanted to.  

Becoming a bad boy certainly was tiresome and soon Kris fell asleep to the loud chatter of his friend suggesting coloring his hair metallic blue.

A while later Kris awoke to the crunching sound of aluminum foil. He slowly opened his eyes and the sight that greeted him made him shriek. Okay maybe that was partially from the pain of getting his hair bleached but trust me, it wasn't a pretty sight. His hair was completely covered with tin foil. And it hurt. The dried drool stain on his chin didn't do much for him either. Oh and did I mention, it freaking hurt?

    
When Kris finally came out on the other side his hair was blonde, bangs slicked back. In his ear a silver stud sparkled oh so nicely and his usual casual t-shirts had been replaced by a white long sleeved shirt tugged into leather pants. His eyes were covered with black shades making him look mysterious even though he felt like a total douche for wearing sunglasses indoor.

 
After his transformation, Kris started going to the gym with Mark ever so often. Kris not being satisfied with the results, started going there every day, working out for at least 2 hours before deeming it okay to go home. He joined the basketball team, ultimately receiving his letterman jacket.

And voila!

Kris was officially... A jock.

Top belly long gone, replaced with the faint traces of abs and toned biceps. All the girls (even the occasional boy) squealed when he and his group of Neanderthals made their way through the school grounds, high-five- and fist-bumping all the way.

And suddenly Kris was once again worthy of Kim's presence.