(Edited with Grammarly on 5/7/2026)
Albert could feel his muscles begin to lock up, his jaw tensing as frost filled him. Goose flesh formed across his skin, forcing hair to stand to attention like recruits during conditioning. Even the loud thump that rattled the mirror beside him was tuned out as his vision narrowed on the two objects. There was a hope in his chest, a small flickering thing that maybe, just maybe, he was just jumping to conclusions. Maybe he could blame this city for polluting his mind to even think of this kind of possibility...Right? That had to be the case...it just had to be.
"W…" He coughed suddenly, licking his far too dry lips before continuing with a bit more volume. "What are those?"
Maybe she was just using the pill bottle as storage? It was a dumb excuse, especially if he factored in the pink pill hanging as its companion. He knew this, but still clung to that idiotic question like a stranded man at sea.
"This-" Chelsea, not seeming to pick up on his mood, shoved the pill bottle closer so that he could see. It wasn't needed. "Are some sleeping pills my mom sometimes uses. But don't worry, she won't miss them. I swiped these weeks ago and made her think that she used them all up before buying some more."
'Weeks?'
His tongue suddenly felt as dry as sandpaper, its rough surface feeling as if it would rub a hole right through the roof of his mouth. Maybe she, too, had some sleeping issues? Isn't it hereditary? Right, right, he really shouldn't keep jumping to conclusions like this.
"And this," She shoved the clear baggie up close next, its pink hue seeming to glow under the bathroom lights. "It was so, so much harder to get. It's something called Bodhi Sap. I got it from some shady guy I usually pass by. Have you never seen it before? It's like a completely safe aphrodisiac, can keep someone going for hours, and has them still wanting more."
'Sap of the Bodhi.'
He bit his lips to stop the correction from spilling out. Willow had told him specifically about this sex enhancing drug. It wasn't good news, not at all.
"What do you plan on doing with them?"
It was another stupid question, and maybe he was just stuck in an endless loop. Deny. Rationalize. Deny. Rinse and repeat. Or maybe he just wanted to hear her put everything out there, so there was no more room for guessing.
"Okay, here's my plan…" She actually looked excited, gleeful in fact, as the plan began to unfurl from her lips. "You've already talked to him, right? Good, then I just need you to hand him a drink I prepared. Give him like five minutes before getting him to a room upstairs. There...there, I'll show both him and everyone else that he isn't gay at all. Three birds, one stone."
He could feel it then, a subtle but present sensation running rampant through him. His stomach gurgled, bile threatening to crawl up from his throat. Like he'd just gotten done chugging expired milk, and it took all of his self-control not to turn and hurl into the toilet behind him.
"Chelsea." There was no excuse or explanation he could use to try to delude himself further; maybe he never needed them from the beginning. "What do you think will happen next? After... after everything?"
"After?" She blinked owlishly, like the outcome was already set in stone. "We'll be together, obviously. Especially when I get some pictures and maybe have someone walk in on us, that'll dispel all those nasty rumors...Sadly, I couldn't prepare a more romantic setting for our first time together than rutting at a party, but anything is better than letting that slut keep him. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."
"Chelsea." He repeated with far more edge than before. "What do you think will happen next?"
"I-I just said what'll happen." She had the nerve to look confused, as if she made perfect sense. "We'll be together, that's how this works. I give him my virginity, and we're bound for life. Easy."
"Think of this hypothetical. What if it were a guy who decided to drug a girl like this? What would happen then?"
"That isn't the same, and you know it!" Chelsea barked, crossing her arms right around herself. "That would be rape, but girls can't rape guys! It's biologically impossible! Guys have to be sexually aroused for sex to even happen! That means they would be into it anyway!"
"It's an automatic biological reaction." He pointed out, waving to the two objects clutched tightly in one hand. "There's no consent here, especially not with those drugs you're planning to use. It would be rape. No matter which way you look at it. And for you to even suggest that I help you here... No, Chelsea, I will not be helping you."
"You're fucking useless then!" She shouted, and from what he could see, the girl also didn't seem to fully comprehend his logic in the slightest. Maybe she, too, had deluded herself into thinking that this wasn't so bad. Or maybe she truly didn't see anything wrong with what she had been planning. That scared him more than anything else. "Why the hell am I even paying you for?! Fine, be fucking a faggot about this! I'll do this all by myself and-"
"No, you won't." Albert's voice dropped to barely a whisper, eyes growing flat and firm. He could feel it then, not just the queasy feeling in his stomach or the bile in his throat, and even his rationalization so far had grown deathly silent. Holding out a single gloved hand, the command was heavy. Brooking no arguments or debate. "Give them to me, now."
"…" Her face froze for a moment, turning a deathly pale complexion, before she moved, probably without thinking. It was only for a split instant, but whatever hold he might've had on her rational quickly faded as stubbornness and pride filled her eyes. Snatching the bag closer to herself, she snapped with a flushed face. "No! I won't! And you can't fucking make me! Why do you think you can stand between Adrian and me? You're just like everyone else! You were never on my side!"
"…"
"I'll-I'll fucking scream!" At his silence, she fumbled with her words. Bravado quickly ebbing away as he stared at her blankly, hand still outstretched in a silent demand. "I'll do it! And no one is going to stop me! Adrian and I are going to be together! And we'll have lots of kids, a home far-far away from my bitch of a mom and her-"
"…" Force it was. So be it. And calmly, only casually, Albert reached into the inner lining of his jacket. Maybe he should've just done this at the very beginning. People like her could never be reasoned with. It didn't matter to her that Adrian was in no way interested in her, didn't matter to her that he would turn her down, and didn't care in the slightest about anything that wasn't in her 'grand' plan. For her, it was always going to only ever be about herself.
In the next moment, his handy pocket knife was pointed out. Blade gleaming under the bathroom light, and its mere presence changed the whole atmosphere. He could see it, the way the look in her eye subtly changed. Not real fear, no. As at the end of the day, she was still a Gothamite through and through. She could tell he wouldn't be able to actually do anything with the knife. This place was far too public. And maybe, most importantly of them all, she could see his bluff for what it was.
"I've seen bigger from the crackhead on my street," She waved at the steady knife disdainfully. "What makes you think I'm going to be scared of that little thing? Barely large enough to make me feel anything."
Maybe, maybe he could've been able to appreciate the innuendo. The clear and clumsy diffusion on full display, and maybe he could've broken out into a rye grin before putting this all behind them...But this wasn't that kind of situation.
"…"
"Fine!" Seeing him not even twitch or blink at her attempt at levity, she slammed down the pills hard in his palm with far-far more force than required. But he didn't react with words, only turning to the side before lifting the toilet seat. Seeing this, she quickly spoke up. Even trying to take a step forward to stop him. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Do you know how expensive that Bodi Sap is? That set me back like six bucks!"
"You will thank me later."
And without even a second glance back, he uncorked the bottle before pouring the pure white pills and the single pink capsule all into the bowl. Locking his gaze with his client, he held it as he reached over and pulled the handle. But her eyes were elsewhere, gaze zeroed in on the swirling bits of white and pink slowly but surely flushing away. Until all that was left was the sound of water stuttering and the slight hiss of the toilet filling back up.
Chelsea, face twisting in the variety of expressions before settling on something cold and scornful. Brows coming in close, eyes narrowing into near slits while her lips pulled apart, revealing a snarl. In simplest terms, she looked ready to flail him with a butter knife.
But he stood firm against her heated glare, back straight and head tilted up a hair to look down his nose at her. After what felt like an eternity, she broke off first. Cursing, the girl sent him one last nasty look before storming out of the bathroom, slamming the door shut with enough force to cause the windows to begin warbling.
'Oh, thank goodness!'
Barely taking the time to lock the door behind her, Albert almost fully collapsed in on himself. His world became dizzy, the tiled floor spinning up to meet him as he leaned heavily on the counter. Tossing the pocket knife into the sink, he fell onto his knees. Clutching the toilet as rancid bile welled up from his stomach. Core tightening and spine jerking as he dry heaved fruitlessly into the bowl. Once, twice, three times before something gave way as he expelled his lunch and probably whatever remained of his breakfast.
Heat welled up in his throat, muscles flexing hard around his ribs before there was nothing else to heave. Allowing weakness to crash into his body all at once. Cutting through his facade of strength like a hot knife through butter.
'This was supposed to be a simple case.' Huddling in close, he couldn't even muster the energy to care about the acrid scent assaulting his senses just then. That was the only reason why he even took on his case, a small dip back into this world while he was recovering from his most recent failure; he hadn't expected things to turn this dark over a crush. An obsession, he could admit, with his eyes no longer blanketed. He should've expected something like this, should've expected that she'd take things to the next level, that after all these years, she was no longer content with waiting.
Pushing himself onto wobbly feet, he quickly flushed his sickness away. Wiping away at the corners of his mouth with barely a care, before freezing in place the very next moment. A certain weight dangling from his chin and the sudden sensation of cold air across his cheek didn't bode well in the slightest. He almost didn't want to look at the mirror, didn't want to see exactly how bad he truly appeared.
But with a force of will, he stared at himself in the mirror and almost immediately lost it. His right side was fine, just as picturesque as before, but the left side...the left side looked like something straight out of a horror movie. The prosthetic jaw he'd worked so hard on was now hanging loosely from his own significantly weaker jowl by a stretchy and bouncing piece of dried gelatin. Exposing sickly pale skin that stood in stark contrast to the healthy tan skin.
He was sure that if he walked out right then, many people would probably start fleeing in the opposite direction, screaming to the hills of the ghoul wearing a human face. Like a mini-boss, he would often use his own players. When confronted, they would tear away at their disgusting disguise only to reveal a monstrous visage on full display before charging forward with a maw opening too large and too long, limbs flailing around at inhuman speeds.
'I should just go.'
It wasn't like he had any more reasons to stay there, now, did he? His client was gone, and it wasn't like he really knew anyone there to begin with. And with his mask malfunctioning, trying to stay longer was like asking for the worst to happen. He could probably stick the jaw back in place, and some water to rush the torn seams back together...but how long would that really last?
Ten minutes? An hour?
Either way, this mask was finished, and its final resting place would be in a tub of rubbing alcohol mixed with the rest of the failures.
"But you can't, can you?" He looked up then, locking gazes with the handsome mask that still held that small smirk at the corner of his lips. "You know the kind of person Chelsea is now, she's vindictive...and she'll be looking for some payback after you ruined her plans."
"I don't know these people." The dangling piece of his jaw wobbled as he countered in a whisper. "I can just leave and just wash my hands of it."
"But what if she tries to go through with her plan anyway? Or takes out her vengeance on someone undeserving. Could be one of the quiet and more vulnerable kids here...or even Jeremiah if you're really unlucky."
He wanted to refute, cry to the heavens that there was no way she would go that far...but he couldn't. He could very easily see her doing something to Jeremiah's shop if she can't get to him, whether it would be something somewhat mundane like spray painting his windows or even something more sinister like burning the whole building down. And if something were to happen to that old man because of his mess? Yeah, he wouldn't ever be willing or able to forgive himself.
Albert took in a steadying breath, clearing his mind as he tried to readjust his thoughts. It was clear what he needed to do, and there wasn't much anyone could do to stop him. And so, reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small tube before applying a clear liquid across the prosthetic. Sliding it in place, he tried his best to fix the false skin back in place. Rubbing at the edges to try to blend the pieces back together.
After his work was done, he stared hard at his patch job. It was far from his best work, by far, but it would do. The party was pretty dark to begin with, so as long as he avoided extremely lit areas, he should be good. Picking up his knife and straightening himself up, he fixed the crooked wig back in place before patting away at the edges of the front of his clothes to make himself appear more presentable and finally turned back to the bathroom door.
***
'This is some awful pizza.'
Albert couldn't help but comment as he frowned down at the triangular slice. It felt cold in his hands, the paper plate nearly completely soaked through with grease, and the sparse piece of pepperonis looked more akin to small buttons than actual food.
After traveling around, shuffling from group to group, he'd finally stumbled across something to keep him occupied for a bit. Talking hadn't worked out all too well, as most cliques quieted down to something resembling absolute silence when he approached and only burst out with energy when he left. So that only left standing around and eating to pass the time.
And when he found multiple stacks of barely touched pizza boxes just sitting in the dim kitchen, he thought he'd found the mother-load.
'No wonder there was still so much left over.'
His first bite was like sinking his teeth into cardboard, like he was trying to eat the paper plate itself. He'd even needed to pull his head back just to tear off a piece before nearly spitting it out right on the spot.
It would've been better to just eat the plate.
So now there he was, standing off in a corner somewhere with a cold pizza in hand and a rumbling stomach that gnawed at his consciousness. He didn't want this awful stuff, didn't want to sustain himself on nothing but canned soda and bland chips.
'I'm sure there's got to be a diner still open this late.'
Scanning his eyes over the crowd once more, he stopped on a couple not too far away from him. Normally, it didn't really look all that strange. Parties like these were often a very acceptable place for couples to showcase their affection for one another. From bumping and grinding to making out in nearby corners or even disappearing into one of the many rooms upstairs.
And what he saw wasn't really enough to ring an alarm either. From the back, he could see a tall, athletic teen in a familiar black and yellow varsity jacket just positively looming over someone. Resting his forearms on the wall and dipping his head lower just to be closer.
To him, it looked like an incredibly intimate moment, and he would have turned away from it if not for the pair of light brown eyes locking onto his. Maybe he'd been staring for too long, or maybe they'd been desperately glancing around, but whatever the reason, the panic in them was plain to see.
Pushing himself off the wall, he tried to appear nonchalant as he zeroed in on the pair. He would get close enough to hear their conversation before jumping to the worst-case scenario. Marceline's words filled his ears as he grew closer.
Those frantic eyes were blocked by a massive back a few times, causing his heart to jump up in his throat and his pace to increase dramatically. Until what felt like an eternity but was probably barely a couple of tens of seconds, he finally got close enough to hear what was being said.
"-on," The teen hiccuped, the smell of cheap booze coming off him in heavy waves. Strong enough that even the private eye could barely stop himself from clapping a hand over his nose. "I-I always thought you were c-cute. Can't you s-see that I needed beer t-to work up the cour-cour-nerve to talk to y-you?"
"But you and other jocks call me fat."
This close, Albert could finally see the significantly shorter girl nearly curled in on herself as she tried to get as far as possible away from him.
"T-that's so they don't try to g-get with you first!" His head dropped lower, eyes clearly locked onto the objects of his desire. Unwarranted as this attention may be. "With t-these, none of them w-would've cared if you were f-fat or not!"
She curled in closer to herself, crossing her arms across her chest in a protective manner as she tried to press herself back further into the wall.
"I-I-"
"L-look!" He interrupted her, pressing in closer until they were barely a hair's breadth apart. His voice was low, but it was easily loud enough for not just the private eye to hear but for sure the other groups around them as well. "Y-you obviously like me t-too. L-let's skip past t-these games you g-girls like to play, let's go u-upstairs and I can show y-you exactly how much I l-like you...W-we'll have fun, I p-promise."
"...I'm not ready for tha-"
"You're n-not ready?" He pointed down aggressively at her simple green turtle neck sweater. "T-then why d-do you have t-tits out? C-can't be walking around with g-giant knockers if y-you aren't ready! C'mon, I p-promise I'll be g-gentle."
"No-"
"There you are!" Albert had heard enough and, with a giant grin across his 'face' stepped in close to the two. "I've been looking all over for you, man!"
"D-do-" The tall teen blinked slowly, clearly thrown off by the ball of energy that just appeared beside him. So much so that he just easily allowed himself to be forced back a step. "Do I know you?"
"No!" He smiled wider, eating up the space between them as he began to motion around wildly. "Of course not! I've just been hearing a lot of stories about you, though! Meeting a legend like you is a great honor!"
"Oh?" The jock responded slowly. Again, not fully comprehending exactly what was going on. Running massive sausage fingers through his red-ish brown hair as he tried to follow along. "I-I'm busy r-right no-"
"They say you could bench press two hundred pounds!"
Eating up more of the space, he slowly caroled the drunk farther away until his back completely covered the shivering girl.
"Who-who said I c-could only bench t-two hundred?!" Whatever flattery the comment might've inspired clearly had missed its mark as those bleary eyes narrowed into slits. "W-was it that f-fucker Ryner?!"
"I don't know," Albert shrugged, turning on his strategy with barely a blink. "I just heard you could lift two hundred pounds. I thought it was pretty impressive, especially since you're cutting. I heard you're supposed to be losing strength around then."
"Cutting?!!!" The drunk looked down at his stomach in shock, skin growing pale as he nearly stumbled away from him. His slurring grew worse as he grew more and more flustered. "I-I'm not c-cutting! Bulking! B-bulking! I-I'm supposed to-to g-gain tw-twenty pounds be-before the s-season s-starts! C-coach is g-going to k-k-kill me!"
"You're on a bulk?" He scanned the giant up and down with a visible frown, tongue forking out as he tasted the venom sinking into the athlete's ears. "Well, there's still time. I think I saw some pizza boxes in the kitchen back there, that should help, right?"
[Persuade: 7%]
Without even waiting, the giant teen turned on his heel and barreled through the crowd, not caring in the slightest about the people he nearly toppled over. Sure, he might've received some dirty looks, but no one dared to speak up just then, probably in fear of getting on his bad side.
Watching him leave, the investigator could feel all that bravado and false cheer flowing out of him like a balloon with a leak. And only then did he take notice of the cold sweat dripping down his spine.
That was close, far, far too close for comfort. He had no idea what he was going to do if the teen had decided to just take a swing at him, and with how unpredictable drunks were, it could've gone either way. Honestly, he was just glad that not getting on their coach's bad side was enough to distract the jock from his initial target.
Turning back around, Albert took a few small steps back as he saw the girl still hunched in close behind him.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah…" Her voice was small and timid, gaze dropping low to avoid his own. Fiddling with her fingers, she continued a moment later. "Thank you...for you know, getting him to go away."
"It's no problem," He craned his head back to locate the giant in the distance. "But we should probably move somewhere else. I don't care how drunk he might be; that pizza is awful. He's going to be pissed."