Trevor Blake cursed to himself. How the fuck could something like this happen to him? One moment, he was getting dressed, putting on his fishnet shirt and black leather skirt. Then the next, he was completely different, wearing a gray T-shirt and blue jeans. All his gothic make-up was gone, as were his piercings. His hair was no longer black and spiky. Instead it was back to its natural light brown color and a little messy. He looked like half the guys at school.
He had lost his identity, his individualism. He was just another face in the crowd. It made him sick. Nonconformity was one of the main reasons he became a Goth. And now he was just like everyone else.
How could something like this even happen? The first thing that came to mind was magic. He didn't know a lot about that subject. Athena was the one that was the expert in that field. But he didn't need to be a genius to figure out that something like this could have only been caused by a powerful sorcerer. It scared him that someone like that could be in his very own town.
