In the not-so-distant future, those in power declared sex—and anything relating to the act—unnecessary and archaic. Established in its place was a new standard: a future of artificial birth, sterilization, and abstinence. State-mandated hormone inhibitors spread across the country faster than anyone expected. Quick rehabilitation, if not outright disposal, quelled what minor rebellion there was. And now, over thirty years after the initial inception of these new regulations, sexual desire was all but absent in the average household.
But even though the wound had long-since healed, infection from within still lingered. It began in a small college of about three hundred students. An anonymous band of undergraduates began to act once every two weeks. The purpose was simple—public spectacle and disorder for the sake of sexual freedom. From posters of outlawed pornography hung around the campus, to disruption of inhibitor distribution, this underground society sought to shock, incite, and excite the student body with their acts of perversion. And though the limelight shone brightly on their clique, they always remained anonymous in all matters.
That was until one evening when a freshman—a young man obsessed by the society's presence—took it upon himself to confront the group. With enough evidence to take their entire crew down, he uncovered the their base of operations: the basement of an old abandoned house in town. They were there to discuss plans involving something only referred to as “Operation Pink Pill”, a plan which would forever change the face of sexual revolution. The man who uncovered their deeds was none other than me, and once I had learned the location of their meeting, I wasted no time in confronting them. Not to disclose any secrets or reveal any truths, mind you. No, I wanted to confront them for my own reasons. I wanted to usurp their purpose.
There were three individuals present that day, one of them female; a beautiful blonde with striking blue eyes, two of them male; a lanky redhead with a nose piercing, and a black haired femboy with tanned skin. Two things about them caught me by surprise. First, for such an important meeting, there only appeared to be three members present. Was this the very guerilla organization before me? A mere gathering of three people? It was not nearly as grandiose as their actions led many to believe. Secondly, each individual was instantly recognizable.
Sitting at the center of the table was whom I imagined being the leader: Secretary of the Student Government Association and frequent Dean’s List recipient, Alice Dorset. She dressed simply today, wearing a loose white blouse with the sleeves rolled up past her elbows. Her hair was just as plain, pulled back away from her face into a high ponytail. There wasn’t a single hint of makeup on her delicate features, nor was there a trace of perfume or cologne to be smelled; she looked like what she truly was—a young woman with the potential for great things ahead of her.
The short boy to Alice's left was just as easy to discern, the one whose name topped every article since the season had started: Palto Corvin. At first glance, he didn't stand out. But then again, that was exactly why I recognized him; despite how his face had been plastered everywhere during last year's championship run, the femboy himself was stoic and demure. Thin and lean, his hair curled slightly at the tips, barely touching the tips of his ears. In terms of clothing, he opted for comfort rather than fashion, wearing a pair of tight fitting leggings and an athletic turtleneck.
And finally, sitting to the right of the blond woman was a ginger punk only known as 'Nines.' His name said it all, a true wild child with short hair, multiple piercings, and a fierce attitude. This boi didn't hold back on anything—including himself. His clothing choice was far from conventional, with his tight tank top and ripped blue jeans revealing more flesh than most would ever allow in public. It was a near miracle the boi wasn’t locked up by this point.
"Well, well, well, not exactly the place for a get-together, is it?" I approached. My tone was firm, yet sadistic.
All three guerilla's turned their heads toward me, looking quite surprised by my sudden appearance. Alice looked slightly agitated, however, while I could almost sense delight in Nine's growing smirl. Palo held a perfect poker face as he questioned me coldly. His voice, while gruff and intimidating, betrayed his nervous nature. "Who are you?"
I held up a hand as I stepped past the entrance. "I don't think you three are in any position to ask questions."
Alice stood from the table angrily. "Excuse me? You're the one who barged in here without permission."
My eyes narrowed. "You really shouldn't try so hard to be intimidating."
"Oh, shut up," the girl retorted. Her tone was clear and confident, befitting of her leader role. Then again, perhaps that was just her natural demeanor. After all, it took confidence to brown nose as much as she did.
"I was telling her how annoying that shtick gets," Nine's chuckled. "You know, trying to sound all tough and badass."
Alice's scolding gaze shot over to Nine's momentarily before refocusing on me. "Ignore him. Now, we'd appreciate it if you left. We're busy studying."
I laughed. "Studying? Of course! 'Pink Pill' is nothing but a big study guide, right? I should have known."
The secretary's glare only grew colder while the ginger's grin grew wider. The punk’s eyes glistened with faint shimmers of interest. "Now where the hell did you hear that name, smart ass?"
"Oh, I heard a lot of things," I said smugly. "Just because you guys have been keeping your identity hidden doesn't mean it'll stay hidden, you know."
I revealed the fact I had stockpiles of evidence detailing their involvement in the rebel group. All the information I needed was prepared to be sent off the university servers in an instant; it would be difficult for any of them to lie about it then. After that fact sunk in, an impenetrable silence took hold of the three. They sent glances back and forth. Varying amounts of concern and fear appeared on their faces. After several minutes of tense deliberation, one of them finally spoke.
“Well, Alice?” Nine's spoke. “We’ve got a snitch. Do we…?”
The redhead looked at the blonde, who seemed to be weighing the pros and cons of her options. Alice sat there quietly, eyes trailing over my body. I could tell she was considering what to do next. Finally, after a few moments of silent contemplation, she rose from her chair.