Kane......

Maybe I shouldn't do this.  I really don't want to be here.  It should be my fat, loser roommate, Doug, sitting here.  This is his idea.  He's the one that lost his job three weeks ago, then spent all of his money on takeout, and God knows what else.  Now we can't make the rent.  I bet he won't even clean up the apartment like I asked him to.  I shouldn't have to ask him to.  He should just do it.

I’m here because I’m the one with acne.  The drug trial is to cure acne.  Doug is fortunate enough not to have this affliction.  I wish they had a drug that could take my acne and give it to him.  Or better yet, a drug that will make a loser quit playing video games and get a job.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.  At least I’m not the guy sitting next to me.  He really doesn't want to be here.

“Seren, I really do not think this is a good idea,” he groans, in broken English, for about the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes.

“It's okay.  We'll be just fine.  Besides, we can really use the money,” Seren, a blonde of about nineteen, encourages, taking Nervous Nael’s hand.  That’s not his real name.  I don't know his real name.  It’s just a name that I made up for him.  He and Seren are obviously more than friends.  As uncomfortable as Nervous Nael is, I think they're kind of cute together.  I would never tell anyone that, of course.  I’m a fully heterosexual male.

We're in a waiting room with nine other people.  Six men and six women total, including me.  The men all look to be about college age.  They’re probably younger than me.  They're all probably fortunate enough to be college students.  I wish that I could’ve gone to college.  It just wasn't in the cards for me.  The women, on the other hand, all look to be prostitutes.  Which I find interesting.  I guess college isn't in the cards for them either.

As I wonder about the disparity, the waiting room door opens.  In walks, the most stunning woman I have ever seen.  I push my glasses up on my nose to make sure that I’m seeing her clearly.  She's literally a goddess.  A small, petite, curvy frame with breasts just the right size.  Reddish-brown hair pulled back in a long braid that extended down her back.  Large, bright, green eyes that smile along with her perfect, pink lips.  She is definitely the full package.

“I’m told that someone here is a bit anxious about this drug trial.  Who is it?” she asks loudly.

“I'm a little anxious, Honey.  Why don't you come sit on my lap and calm me down,” the jerk across the room says, drinking her in with a predatory smile.

I literally want to throttle him.  You don't cat-call a goddess like her and get good results.

She ignores him with such grace, turning her back to him.  She looks around the room, waiting.

I, as inconspicuously as possible, point to the guy next to me.  She smiles at me appreciatively.  I would do anything to get her smile at me like that again.

She approaches Nervous Nael.  “Hi.  My name's Colours.  What's yours?” she asks.  Her name is just as beautiful as her.  An odd name, but beautiful.  I missed his name, but that's okay.  I just want to continue to hear her melodic voice.

“They tell me that you're worried, and I just want to assure you that you are in capable hands.” She continued, “Should there be an adverse reaction, you will immediately be given a second injection with an agent that neutralizes the acne medication.  It is very unlikely that that will happen, but they have that as a backup plan, just in case.”

She was making me feel better.  It was working on him, too.  He decided to stay.  She stayed and talked with us until they came for us.  I found out that she volunteers at the medical center on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  I'm  disappointed to hear that the doctor overseeing the studies is her boyfriend. Too bad, but what can I expect?  I mean, look at her.  She would never go for a guy like me, anyway.  The most interesting part is that she had actually participated in studies herself before.  What's a girl like her doing this for?  She must really trust her boyfriend.

The waiting room door opened.  It was time.  We were all ushered into a large room equipped with something similar to dentist chairs.  We each sat down in a chair.  Then I noticed the restraints.
“Why do we need restraints for an acne drug?” one of the prostitutes asked.  Good question.

“It's just protocol,” a medical assistant answered, strapping her in.

Nervous Nael freaked out when they got to him.  There's no way he's staying.  Colours recognized it.  “Hey.  It's okay.  I’ll wait with you outside while Seren does the trial,” she said soothingly.  I didn't know if he would go for it.  He wanted Seren to leave, too.

“I’ll be okay.  Just wait for me outside,” Seren told him softly.  This seemed to calm Nael down.  He left the room with Colours.  I immediately missed her soothing presence.

Once we were all strapped in, medical assistants came around with syringes and injected us.  They kept us restrained in the chairs for about an hour, then released us into what they called a recovery room.  It was just a large conference room.  They took our vitals, paid us two hundred dollars, then released us with the promise of even more money, three hundred dollars, if we came back for the second round in two weeks.
I went straight home to my apartment.  Exhausted, I went right to bed.  It's time to try and get a couple of hours of sleep before I have to go to work.

A car alarm blaring is what woke me up.  I got up and peeked out of my bedroom window.  On the street, right by my room, a sleek, older model sports car sat with lights flashing and an alarm beeping.  I heard two quick chirps, and it all stopped without the owner even checking on it.  What's a car like that doing in this neighborhood anyway?

I don't exactly live in the best part of town.  Okay.  So, I live in the slums.  I would love nothing more than to live in a high-rise condo, but this is all that I can afford.  The police don't even bother to come here, even though they could make a lot of money on drug busts alone.  They're probably afraid.  I was afraid, at first,  too.  With time, you just get used to locking a million locks on your door and sleeping with a gun by your bed.

I watch a moment longer and see a man walking toward the car.  He turns and looks back behind him, and I catch a glimpse of his face.  I’m shocked to see that it's Dr. Jason Brown from the acne study.  What's he doing here?  Then I see a cute, perky blonde, an assistant from the study, clad in a pink robe and slippers, run to him, and throw her arms around his neck.  They engage in a kiss that would put a hooker and a John to shame.

First, I feel confused.  Why would he do this when he has Colours at home?  This is like choosing to eat take-out French fries when you have the whole Turkey and fix-ins waiting for you at home.  Then I start to get angry.  The longer I watch, the more angry I get.  How could he do this to a beautiful, nice girl like Colours?  It's a classic case of not appreciating what you've got.

Finally, they part, and he gets into the car and leaves.  I watch as Pinky turns and walks back toward the building.  I let go of the curtain so that she won't see me watching.  I reach up to push my glasses up my nose out of habit and realize that they are not there.  I look at my side table on the far side of the bed.  The moonlight reveals my glasses sitting right beside my gun.

I saw Dr. Brown and Pinky so clearly without my glasses.  What's going on?  I pick the glasses up and put them on my face.  Everything looks so blurry and distorted.  I take them back off and turn on the lamp.  I can see everything so clearly.  I try the glasses again and start to get a headache.  This is crazy!  I set them back down and headed to the bathroom.  Leaning in close, I look in the broken, dirty mirror above the sink.  My acne is almost gone.  Where I used to have blackheads and pimples, I now just have a few red dots.  Even the scars are clearing up.  That shot is a miracle drug!

Do these shots stop the acne, or will I have to continue to take them on a regular basis?

I quickly take my shirt off and turn my back to the mirror.  It's the same.  Just a few red spots.  Then I notice something else that's amazing.  I have muscle definition that I didn't have before.  I can remember pumping iron when I was younger and getting less than stellar results.  I just gave up.  Now, all of a sudden, I have a well-defined six-pack and biceps.  I hold my arms up to look in the mirror and can't help but smile.

I undress and hop in the shower.  I feel down for my hard-on.  Just thinking about Colours arouses me.  As I pump, I notice that my dick feels a little bigger in my hand.  I look down as I near my climax.  It looks a little bigger, not much, just a little.  I finish, then wash up and get out.  It's time to get ready for work.

I dry off, then tie the towel around my hips and go to my bedroom.  My uniform fits a little tighter than normal, but it will still work.  My waist must be a little bigger, too, as I have to loosen my gun belt.  I pack my gun and taser and head to the kitchen.  There isn't much to eat in the kitchen.  Ramen it is.  I cook and eat ramen and decide to pick up something cheap, on the way to work, for my lunch break.

I’m a night-time security guard at a local company’s warehouse.  I don't know why they have night watchmen.  It's an empty warehouse, and nothing ever happens.  I guess you can never be too careful, especially in the city.  I’m not complaining.  I need the job.

I say goodbye to a game-playing Doug, eliciting no response, and lock the door behind me.

Once again, I am thankful that my car, a faded red, late model Ford Focus, is still where I last parked it.  In this neighborhood, you can never be too sure.  Cars are stolen all of the time.  I unlock it and get in.  I wait for it to warm up so that the heat will kick in.

While I’m waiting, another car pulls into the parking spot that Dr. Brown had just vacated.  The driver, a man, gets out of the car, and I see Pinky, clad in the same robe and slippers, come out to meet him.  He leans down and kisses her, but the kiss is far less passionate than the one between her and the doctor.  So, Pinky is a cheater, too.  Interesting.  That explains why the doctor hasn't put her up in a fancy apartment.

The next two weeks are pretty uneventful.  I don't see Dr. Brown at the apartments again.  But it may just be that I don't notice.  I don't observe any other changes in my appearance, except, oddly, my hair color is getting lighter.  My stamina has increased.  I choose to walk around the warehouse more often at work.  So much so that my partner, an older gentleman named Barry, comments on it.   I’m a more energetic waiter at my second job, on the weekends, garnering more tips than usual.  I sleep better with the occasional odd dream and feel more refreshed when I'm awake.

Overall, I feel that my life has greatly improved, and I can't wait for that next dose.  I want this to continue.  I’m afraid that my life will back-slide if I don't finish the trial.

Of course, seeing Colours again won't hurt either.