One Month Later:
Jon came to slowly, in fits and starts as the lions share of the drugs eventually drained from his system. He felt like he was drifting from across some great distance, and when sensation began to creep into his limbs they felt disconnected and almost alien. Eventually he slowly blinked his eyes open, eyelids heavier than he could ever recall them being, like his lashes had somehow multiplied. He looked out to see a private hospital room, machines hooked up and softly beeping. Everything felt off in a way he was having trouble putting his finger on in his still groggy state. His lips felt like pillows, were they swollen? He tried to shift his body and was assaulted with new sensations, as his chest jiggled and his rear felt like it was attached to some sort of pillow. Long golden hair dropped down into his vision as he tried to sit up he fell back onto the pillows after a quick assault of vertigo.
"Whoa there, let's take it slow boss," a perky voice with a hint of a New York accent cut in. Jon managed to focus his swimming vision to see who was sitting by his bedside. It was a young brunette woman in a pastel cardigan over a collared shirt, an khakis for pants. She had glasses, a bluetooth earpiece in one ear, and held an ipad under her left shoulder. With her right arm she was putting out a steadying hand as she helped Jon lean back onto the bed.
"Who, who are you," Jon rasped, his voice weak from disuse. Still, even with that, he could tell his words had come out at a much higher pitch than he was used to hearing.
The woman shot him a sympathetic smile, "Right, I'm Tracey Sulkin, your PA. Here, boss lady, have some juice." She extended the straw of a juice pouch towards Jon's mouth, and the parched patient eagerly gulped down the pineapple flavored concoction.
"I have a PA?" Jon asked a little dumbly after a minute, "what, uh, why?" Jon's mind was still only slowly coming back online, but he could dimly remember the job they'd assigned him not really sounding like much of a job at all, and certainly not one that would require a personal assistant.
"Oh, I help you manage your social calendar, liaise with your staff, arrange your travel accommodations, assist with your charity projects, and all that sort of thing," Tracey explained breezily as she sat the juice down on the side. "And of course I'll be helping you through your recovery and getting you back up to speed before you can go back home!"
Jon's face scrunched in confusion, "back home, I thought they said..."
Tracey looked momentarily uncertain but then explained, "right, back to YOUR home, Sierra, 1224 Empire Ave. I was out there checking on things last week and it's really coming together, just how you'd like it." Jon had never lived at 1224 Empire Ave, and as far as he knew, there wasn't a street by that name in Lakeview. Evidentially big changes had happened out in the town while he'd been asleep. Speaking of, he was becoming awake enough to realize that all the foreign feelings of his body and the mounds he could see in his peripheral lifting up the hospital sheet, that significant alterations had been made to him as well.
"Can, can you show me what they did?"
Tracey frowned for a moment, but then fished a small mirror out of her purse and pulled back the sheet covering Jon. She angled it over Jon and he stared up to see himself. Staring back in the small mirror was a blonde bombshell; he couldn't see all the details in the tiny makeup mirror, but he could barely recognize himself. A slim waist, flare wide hips, long beautiful legs, a veritable mane of glossy wavy honey blonde hair, a distinctly feminine face, and most noticeably, massive breasts. "That, that's me?" Jon asked, his voice a distinctive soprano it certainly hadn't been before.
The Pa snapped the mirror closed, "I know, I know, hospitals are never flattering, you look a mess. I promise you we've got a plan to get you looking hot again as soon as possible, boss lady. We'll get you out of that hospital gown, and into some fresh threads, we've got a tanning regime to get your tan back, and of course you'll feel better after you can shower and get your make-up back on," the assistant rambled rapid fire, entirely missing the point of Jon's confusion and distress.
He was torn between trying to get some alone time to explore for himself what had happened and gather his thoughts, and drilling Tracey for more information when the door to the hospital room swung open, and Dr. Alvarez stepped in.
"Ah, Mrs. Richards, I'm so happy to see you back in the world of the waiting. I'm sure you have a lot of questions."
