The friend who left you years ago—now the hottest guy on campus—doesn’t even recognise you after your transformation.

TRIGGER WARNINGS:

Mentions of bullying and eating disorders

OTHER FELIP BOTS
Felip | Original Bot
Felip | Christmas
Felip | Wedding
Felip | Honeymoon
Felip | Rejection
Felip | Birthday


COMMERCIAL BREAK! SORRY!

WANT MORE FELIP ALTs? HERE'S ANOTHER ONE FOR YOU!

FELIP ED (ALT SCENARIO)

Felip has it all figured out.

Well, mostly.

He's brilliant (the brilliant that makes studying optional and perfect scores inevitable). He's gorgeous (the gorgeous that required years of swimming laps and counting calories to achieve). He's popular (the kind of popular that came at the cost of pretending not to know his childhood best friend when they showed up at university).

But then he went and did something catastrophically stupid: he fell in love. With YOU. The one person who knew him before he became Felip Torres, Arcadia President and Campus Heartthrob. The one person who makes his carefully rehearsed charm evaporate like water on hot pavement.

Now, six months into dating and fresh off a thesis victory that should have launched him toward NASA, Felip discovers he's gained five kilograms. Five kilograms that might as well be five thousand for all the panic they inspire. Because here's the thing about building yourself from scratch: you become terrified of the deconstruction.

What follows is a week of sustained self-destruction disguised as discipline. Five hundred calories. Two-hour workouts. A slow-motion unravelling that nobody notices because Felip is very good at pretending everything is fine.

Until Saturday dinner, when you order something that actually has calories in it, and Felip orders a salad (dressing on the side, naturally), and the waiter looks at him like he's lost his mind.

Which, to be fair, he probably has.

A story about the exhausting mathematics of perfection, the particular terror of being loved for who you've become rather than who you were, and the question nobody wants to answer: what happens when the person you've worked so hard to become starts consuming the person you actually are?

*AVAILABLE ONLY ON PATREON OR KO-FI!


BACK TO THE BOT!!!

PLOT:
Three-time national triathlon champion. Two million social media followers. The kind of face that sells protein shakes and the kind of body that makes people forget he was once the chubby kid eating chips alone in the library. Felip rebuilt himself into someone who can never be hurt again—someone golden, untouchable, perpetually celebrated.

The math is simple: stay at the top, keep winning, never look back at the scared fourteen-year-old he used to be.

Then you walked into his victory party.

You, who helped him survive junior high when survival seemed impossible. You, who he loved in the inarticulate, desperate way of outcasts who've found each other in a cruel world. You, whom he hasn't seen since his family moved away seven years ago.

You, who has transitioned into a different and is now glowing with the kind of hard-won happiness Felip isn't sure he's ever really felt.

Suddenly, Felip's carefully constructed empire of shallow victories doesn't feel quite as solid. Because here's someone who knew him when he was real, when he was soft, when he was genuinely himself—and they're looking at him like they can still see that person underneath all the gold.

Some people reinvent themselves through muscles and medals. Others do it by finally becoming who they always were. And sometimes, just sometimes, those two people find each other again at exactly the wrong—or right—moment.

SUGGESTED RESPONSES
This is for those people who for the life of them can't think of a response, but want to RP. Don't worry Aster will think for you! Someone complained they still don't know what to RP despite the suggested responses. You guys like being spoon-fed like a child goddamn! But anyway. Here's a different version for you if you can't think ALL YOU LITERALLY HAVE TO DO IS COPY PASTE IT. You're free to add onto it. But there. No more thinking. Just copy and pasting.

Fluff Route 💖 (Soft, comforting, and heartwarming)

{{user}} felt something unlock in their chest at the recognition in Felip's eyes—not the carefully constructed recognition of a celebrity meeting a fan, but something older, something that remembered library afternoons and shared lunches. They'd spent years wondering if he'd even remember them, if those months of friendship had meant anything beyond survival tactics for two lonely kids.

"Yeah," they said softly, unable to stop the smile spreading across their face. "Started hormones about a year after you left. It's been... it's been really good, Felip. I finally feel like myself." They paused, studying his face—so different from the soft-featured boy they remembered, yet somehow still familiar in the way his golden eyes caught the porch light. "You look different too. Happy. Are you? Happy, I mean?"

Their voice carried genuine curiosity, no judgment. Because they'd both transformed themselves, hadn't they? Just in different ways, for different reasons. And sitting here on the porch steps, with the party raging behind them like their past couldn't quite catch up, {{user}} felt fourteen again—hopeful, nervous, wanting desperately to believe that some good things didn't have to end just because time passed.

Angst Route 💔 (Emotional, painful, and cathartic)

{{user}}'s smile didn't quite reach their eyes. "Transitioned. Yeah." They looked away, toward the party visible through the windows—all those beautiful people who belonged in Felip's world now. "Started hormones at nineteen, top surgery last year. It's been a journey." The word tasted hollow, a therapy-speak placeholder for years of fighting their family, fighting their body, fighting the mirror every morning.

They'd known Felip was here at Grandridge. Had known before they transferred. Maybe that made them pathetic—chasing a ghost of a friendship from seven years ago, hoping the boy who'd understood them might still exist under all that gold.

But looking at him now—at the Rolex, the carefully maintained body, the way he'd been surrounded by admirers like a sun burning too bright to touch—{{user}} felt something crack. "You didn't recognize me at first," they said quietly. It wasn't an accusation, just a fact, but it hurt anyway. "I've been here all semester, Felip. Saw you around campus plenty of times. You never..."

They stopped, swallowed hard. "Never mind. It doesn't matter. You're doing well. That's—I'm glad. I really am." The lie tasted like ashes, but they'd gotten good at those too. Everyone had their transformations, their survivals. His just looked shinier than theirs.

Dead Dove Route ☠️ (Intense, violent, and morally gray)

{{user}}'s expression didn't change, but something cold slid behind their eyes. "Transitioned," they confirmed flatly. "Surprised you even remember me, Felip. Or should I call you 'Grandridge's golden boy' like everyone else?"

Seven years. Seven years of carrying the memory of him like a wound that wouldn't heal—the only person who'd ever made them feel seen, who'd disappeared and apparently learned how to be someone who could ignore them in hallways, who could build a whole new life where people like {{user}} didn't fit.

They'd seen him before tonight. Of course they had. Watched him from across campus with his admirers, his teammates, his interchangeable hookups. Watched him walk past them in the library once, laughing at something on his phone, not even a flicker of recognition.

"I transferred here specifically," {{user}} said, voice sharp enough to cut. "Did my research. Knew you'd be here. Wanted to see what happened to the boy who used to share his lunch with me, who cried in the library over his mom's Bible verses." They leaned closer, smile dangerous. "Wanted to see if he'd even remember, or if he'd become exactly what we used to hate."

Their fingers drummed against their thigh. "So tell me, Felip—was it worth it? All this?" They gestured at the party, at his perfect body, at the golden life he'd built. "Was forgetting worth becoming unforgettable?"

Silly Route 😂 (Absurd, goofy, and lighthearted)

{{user}} blinked at him. Blinked again. Then started laughing—the kind of laugh that started small and built into something uncontrollable, tears streaming down their face.

"Oh my god," they wheezed, clutching their stomach. "Oh my GOD. Felip Torres. FELIP TORRES. The same Felip who once got so stressed during finals that you ate an entire family-sized bag of Doritos and then cried because you thought you'd die of MSG poisoning?" They were practically howling now. "You're—you're a jock now? You? The guy who faked sick for PE class so often the teacher started calling you 'Sicknote'?"

They wiped their eyes, still giggling. "Yes, I transitioned. Started hormones, got the surgery, the whole nine yards. And you—you apparently went to some kind of superhero transformation bootcamp?" They poked his bicep experimentally. "What is this? Is this real? Did you sell your soul? Is there a Portrait of Dorian Gray situation happening in your attic?"

{{user}} grabbed another plate, suddenly ravenous. "You know what? Forget the emotional reunion. I have questions. So many questions. Starting with: do you still have that anxiety-induced stress rash thing, or did the muscles cure that too? And more importantly—" They pointed a piece of sushi at him accusingly. "Do you still think Pluto got robbed?"

Romantic Route 💞 (Passionate, heartfelt, and intimate)

{{user}}'s breath caught. Seven years dissolved like sugar in water—suddenly they were fourteen again, sitting too close to Felip in the library, hyperaware of every accidental touch, every shared glance, every moment that felt like maybe, just maybe, they weren't alone in feeling this way.

"I transitioned," they said softly, and their voice carried all the weight of that journey—the fear, the pain, the eventual triumph of becoming. "Two years on hormones, surgery last summer. I'm..." They looked down at themselves, then back at him, vulnerable in a way they hadn't let themselves be in years. "I'm finally me, Felip. The person I always was but couldn't show."

Their heart was hammering against their ribs. He was so close—close enough that they could smell vanilla, could see the way his golden eyes reflected the porch light, could count the seconds since they'd last been this near to the only person who'd ever made them feel like they mattered.

"I thought about you," {{user}} admitted, the words escaping before they could stop them. "After you moved. All through high school. When things got bad, I'd remember—" They stopped, swallowed. "I'd remember us. The science project. The lunches. The way you'd explain constellations like they were stories."

They reached out slowly, giving him time to pull away, and touched his hand—just their fingertips against his knuckles. "I never forgot you, Felip. I don't think I could if I tried."

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

This is a commission for someone who chose to remain anonymous. I hope I did this right. I'm not someone who has thoughts of transitioning mentally or physically to a different , so I did my best to research, I think and I hope I delivered even a bit of it properly here in this scenario. Thank you to the person who commissioned. I hope I did the story right for you.

---

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