Sean Cody (Patreon)

At first he had just made quick, inconspicuous glances at the boy. Athletic for sure, brand sneakers, brand socks, immodest shorts, earbuds that kept him in his own little world, one of those stupid hairstyles with way too much fringe, snapping photos of himself on all the equipment. Or filming. Again, he tried not to linger with his eyes. But he kept coming back looking for longer and longer because of that outrageously inappropriate T-shirt. "seancody.com" it said, the porn site.

This was the middle of the day, so the kids were still in school, and sure, maybe they wouldn't recognize it, but they could remember the name and look it up later. Or immediately. Everyone appeared to keep their phones with them at all times. Oh, he was for sure filming himself.

He realized he was outright staring at the boy now, and the boy did notice. No point in delaying the confrontation any longer. He got up from his machine and began walking over to him. The boy looked at him as if he hadn't done anything wrong and casually removed one of his earbuds.

"You can't wear that?!" he shouted before he even reached within talking distance.
"Wear what?" the boy asked, looking if possible even more confused.
"The shirt, obviously!" It was the flagrant disregard that infuriated him the most.
"Why?"

He was standing right in front of the boy now. He would have preferred that they were both standing, because then he could have spoken to him right into his face, within his personal space. Now, with him sitting on the inclined bench it had more the feeling of the boy relaxing to what he was saying, despite him towering over him.

"Because it AH!" The last part came out like a short, loud, moan at a higher pitch than the rest of what he had said. Everything got blurry for a moment and it felt like when a quick elevator starts descending and you get a fraction of weightlessness. The boy had his phone again, filming him. "What the he..." he started, but the sound of his voice interrupted him. He swiveled towards the nearest mirror, but even before he saw his reflection he saw that he now wore a white T-shirt.

Staring back at him from the mirror was someone unrecognizable. It certainly wasn't him. It wasn't the boy either, though functionally equivalent. Similar age, similar build, similar haircut, similar clothes, identical fucking seancody.com T-shirt.

"It's cursed," the boy said behind him.
"What?" he answered almost flinching hearing the voice. His voice.
"As soon as anyone takes a hostile action based on knowing the website they get turned into another porn actor. Part of the security package. Clumsy and misguided if you ask me. Like I want a bunch of homophobes as co-workers."
"I'm... what? how? Cursed?"
"I'm Miguel by the way," he said and held out his hand. The other boy didn't see it and just stared into the mirror.
"I... I'm not a porn actor. I don't have to do porn."
Miguel chuckled.
"Yeah, good luck with that." He got up from the bench and headed towards the locker room. "See you on set."