CML - Custom Made Lover [Slow Updates]

CML - Custom Made Lover, Chapter 3

Perhaps. He knew one thing for certain, though, and that was that the second time would be less frightening; he wouldn't be going through it alone. He went ahead and finished his morning routine, giving his old self a friendly smile; they wouldn't be seeing each other for a while and so they bade each other a fond farewell.

Caleb put on a comfortable shirt and carried his pants and shoes in to the lounge. Placing the items of clothing near his infoscreen he abandoned them to head in to the kitchen for some instant coffee. As the hot water mixed with the dark powder and created his steaming hot beverage he stared at it; maybe he ought to put off drinking it until he was certain the caffeine wouldn't cause trouble just like the chemicals in the cream might do. Longing to drink it anyway he grabbed the mug of coffee and strolled over to the infoscreen, directing it to dig up any information on avoiding substances in conjunction with the youth treatment. It came back with an extensive list of foods, drinks and chemicals to avoid. The heading above the list stated that it was best not to eat or drink anything at all beforehand to avoid unforeseen complications. The list below was just a list of substances to be avoided at all cost if the person in question was unwilling to go without eating a meal. Slightly disappointed but unwilling to botch up his future for the sake of a single cup of coffee he emptied the mug in the kitchen sink. He would wait with eating or drinking until after he had awoken in his younger body.

Having dressed himself fully now he looked at the time. His appointment at the center was half an hour away. It would take him only fifteen minutes to walk to the center as it was right on the edge of Ryan Corp's territory; impatient, he considered taking the Speed Bus but that would make him much too early for his appointment forcing him to sit in the waiting room for what would feel like an eternity. Grabbing his coat and pulling it on he gave the picture of Nathan on his infoscreen a last glance before heading out the door. Pretty soon he would be confronted by the three dimensional version of that very same image. A few butterflies fluttered through his stomach; if he was pleased with their work he would be allowed to take the mold with him. It would tie him over until he could at last bring the actual person home.

The Youth Center was a very plain-looking building; it looked a bit like an overgrown dentist's office. It was, in fact, a large, square block of cement with a white coat of paint; the large windows offered no view in to it's depths as they had been made opaque to protect the identity of its customers. The mechanical doors swung open as Caleb approached opening the way to a much more eccentric interior. Virtually every inch of the walls were covered in modern art of all sorts; physical and digital or somewhere in between. The spaces of wall that were too small for yet another piece of oddly-shaped and garishly colored piece of art to hang there were covered in diploma's, awards, time tables and leaflets for all manner of support groups for the newly youthful. Caleb checked in with the front desk and was asked to take a seat while they prepared for his appointment. Sitting on a quite soft and comfy chair he picked up one of the leaflets for some casual reading. Some of the New Youth, it told him, might encounter some unforeseen issues such as friends and family who might be unwilling to accept the person's new age. It pointed to a list of groups or information sources that could be consulted if this was the case. The leaflet abandoned this topic after only two pages and went on to describe the company's re-aging service; it would contact the necessary authorities to inform them of the customer's new age and appearance, taking that tiresome task out of the person's hands. This made it seem like the procedure itself was the least of your worries even though a small percentage of users did come out of the process severely bodily harmed. He paged through a few more leaflets searching for advice and information concerning this minority of cases but found none, not even a reference to the possibility.

Caleb put the leaflets back down on the table and looked about himself, studying the other people who were waiting in the room with him. Most were about his age, some older. Some of them looked very nervous while others appeared to think no more of it than if it were an appointment at a barber shop. He felt himself being somewhere in the middle with his feelings; he wasn't afraid but certainly not entirely comfortable with the situation. He hadn't thought about the small chance of it all going wrong until he had actually sat down in the waiting room. Most likely the nervous looking men and women here had been thinking about this much longer than him; he put the thought out of his mind and chose to focus on the vast majority of people who came away from their treatment perfectly fine and satisfied with the incredible results.