Chapter Text
Nathaniel Essex sat alone as Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata drifted to his ears from the speakers of his lab. On the screen, grainy security footage of the outside of Bayville High displayed the two subjects of his attention. Jean Grey and Scott Summers. The only problem? Jean wasn’t getting into Scott’s car. She was getting into the car of the quarterback of Bayville High’s football team, Duncan Matthews.
“Deplorable,” he muttered angrily. “Absolutely deplorable. She and Scott were literally made for each other. What is she doing with that imbecile? I doubt he can even tie his shoelaces.”
From what Essex had seen, he didn’t understand why Jean had started dating him in the first place. Probably some misplaced desire for normalcy. As if anything about her was “normal”.
“I don’t even know who’s more pathetic,” Essex thought to himself. “Scott, for not having the spine to tell her his true feelings, or Jean, who continues to cover her eyes to the waving red flags.”
Essex turned to the tube in the corner of his lab marked “Pryor.” He didn’t want to resort to such drastic methods yet, but it was getting there. He liked to consider himself a patient man. He could wait a little longer before the last resort had to be put in the field.
Months later, the situation was reaching critical. Scott had now begun a romantic relationship with Jean’s best friend, Taryn Fujioka.
“What a fake friend,” Sinister scowled. He hadn’t held any malice towards the girl before, but now she and Duncan were moving to the top of his hitlist, right below Apocalypse and Nick Fury.
Sinister stared at the faces on his surveillance screen. Scott and Jean were simply too kind to purposely hurt another's feelings. Again, Essex found himself turning to the tube full of redhead DNA, tempted to begin drawing up a fake backstory. He particularly liked the idea of a cargo pilot in Alaska.
“Not yet,” he promised. “I’ve got one last trick up my sleeve.”
Walking through the halls in an oversized pair of jeans, a large denim jacket, and a gigantic t-shirt with a capital “ABERCROMBIE & FITCH” plastered on the front, Nathaniel Essex, in his shape-shifted fifteen year old form knew no one would see through his disguise. He had performed a thorough analysis on current teenage fashion trends.
“How is your day, fellow students?” he asked casually as he strolled up to Taryn.
“Um… okay, I guess?” she asked, looking him up and down suspiciously.
“Same,” he nodded, leaning against the locker.
“So…what do you think of our totally ‘rad’ star quarterback?” he asked with a lopsided grin.
Taryn gave him a weak smile.
“Duncan? Pretty cool. He’s dating a friend of mine.”
“Of course,” Essex waved his hand with a smug chuckle. “Jean Grey. Star soccer player. It’s like a power couple. Wicked.”
It was time to lay down his masterstroke. The malleable teenage brain would never possibly comprehend the layers of manipulation he was layering on.
“Not gonna lie, I think Duncan’s into you more.”
Taryn’s eyes seemed to bug out of her head.
“Huh?”
“Yeah, I was talking to some of the dudes and we thought it was totally obvious. Poor Jean, am I right?”
Taryn rubbed the bridge of her nose.
“Well, ain’t that funny?” she smirked.
Essex leaned in, grinning. His manipulation had worked, as predicted.
“I always knew I was a better catch.”
Essex pretended to look surprised.
“So…does that mean you’re gonna ditch Scott?”
“Of course not!” she scoffed. “Let Jean keep that lunkhead. I just proved why I’m totally better for Scott anyway.”
Essex gulped. His plan had worked too well.
“How…how do you mean?” he asked.
“Jean had, like, SOO many chances to get with Scott,” Taryn laughed. “And you know what they say about nice guys? I just proved it applies to girls.”
Essex couldn’t believe it. He had been using hyperbole when he called her a terrible friend. He hadn’t realized she really was that awful.
“Thanks so much for that,” Taryn smiled as she skipped away. “You just made my day!”
As he stared in stunned disbelief down the hallway, Principal Edward Kelly rounded the corner.
“No leaning on the lockers,” he firmly reminded as he walked past the dumbstruck Essex. Wordlessly, the disguised geneticist complied, trudging down the hallway and out of the school building, shaking his head all the way down the sidewalk.
Well, there went his last hope. Scott and Jean were too meek to ever break up with either of their partners themselves, and they were too smart to fall for his blatant denim disguise.
There was only one option left. Project Madelyne would commence upon return to the base.