Designer Boy

As he saunters down the corridor to his flat door, absentmindedly rubbing the short hair on his head, he has no idea the clock is already past four in the morning. Way later than he planned for when he went out to party with his friends earlier. He's not thinking about any of that though, as his mind, pleasantly buzzing like often is the case with light intoxication, is really only focusing on the here and now if anything at all. Once at his apartment door he rolls one of his shoulders and then fishes out the lanyard with the door key from deep in his flimsy basket shorts. The shorts are black mesh, but with white fabric underneath that makes them light up like crazy in the black light of a nightclub dance floor.

Inside the apartment everything looks as he left it, or at least as he remembered he left it. Certain items have been replaced, like the cologne and some products in the bathroom, some jewelry, and essentially all of his clothes and shoes. Someone has designed a completely new look for him. Still just inside the door he is unaware of this.

His phone makes a loud, obnoxious chime and he immediately fishes it out of a pocket and reads the text message on the screen. It's just one word, "selfie", and he immediately feels a stirring inside. He wants nothing more than to show off. He drops down on one knee in front of the mirror, adjusts the boxers and the shorts to show a bit of waistband, straightens the necklace, and lets the jacket drop to expose one shoulder. He's checking the screen to see that everything is perfect, the pose, the expression. He flexes his abs a little, snaps the photo, and sends it as reply.

He's stuck in that pose, wondering what is wrong. His gaze moves between the screen and the mirror and back, as if he expected them to differ. He doesn't know someone designed this look for him, the jacket, the shorts, the shoes, the face, the hair, the body, the skin, all of it. He just can't remember what he used to look like when he disappeared from his friends weeks ago in a bar, or much of his friends for that matter. They don't remember him either, not as he looks now. All part of the design.