Chapter 4

Sitting on his rolling stool Song greeted a new customer with a smile on his face. "What can I do for you today?" he asked with the usual practiced sing-song voice. “We’re doing a special on gels this week if you’re interested. Or were you wanting anything outside of a simple manicure?”

The nail tech in training’s work ethic reached a new level over the previous few weeks. Taking on new responsibilities as an occasional shampoo girl, and front desk attendant, he covered for anyone and everyone whenever they took a break. The dedicated employee made it a point to learn as much as he could about every position in the shop, eager to prove his capability, and drive. His relationship with Eun had even improved. It wasn’t like she was any nicer to him, but he no longer had to clean the toilets, and whenever someone screwed up, or a customer was particularly heinous, it was Song she bitched to about it in the back.

That morning he realized his mother had been drugging him with medication for transgender girls, the entirety of the ride home in Rose’s van was spent seething with anger. Tired of her’s, Bianca’s, Emmanuel’s, and everybody else’s shit, he lamented his stolen independence, sexuality, and gender. The teen stormed up the driveway with tears in his eyes, and fingernails digging trenches in the palms of his hands. Fire burned in his belly as he swung open the front door, dropped his many bags onto the floor, and shouted, “Mom!!” Before, when he’d felt ignored, he would in turn just ignore his parents. When he felt hurt he acted out. This time things were going to be different. He was going to actually confront her.

Hearing the front door slam Grace came down the stairs, still wearing her pajamas, carrying her mug of morning coffee. She wasn’t even halfway to the bottom when she saw the pain on her daughter’s face, and the tears welling in her eyes. Instantly she dropped the little piece of porcelain, spilling its contents and ruining the white carpet, something she threatened to send Song to military school for once before. The mother literally ran, something Song couldn’t even imagine her doing before that moment, wrapping her arms soothingly around her child. “Who hurt you, honey? Was it that hillbilly? I’ll take his fucking balls!”

An actual hug. The last time that happened was Song’s first day of middle school. The same day he was sent home early for running his mouth in the back of class. It had been so long he almost forgot what it felt like, the warmth of a mother’s love. In an instant he forgot the speech he’d rehearsed in his head over and over on his way home, and instead hugged her back, unable to stop the sobbing. Through quivering breaths he explained, “Sorry, Mummy. I just got a little worked up. I don’t know what came over me. Emmanuel didn’t do anything. My feelings were a little too big, I guess. Your carpet, though.”

Grace held Song’s face in her hands, tears forming in her own eyes after hearing the pain in her child’s voice. “Don’t worry about the carpet, little star. That can be replaced. I only have one beautiful little girl.”

‘I don’t want to be a beautiful girl.’ the feminized teen thought, still clinging to his mother. Unable to say anything more, his body betrayed him and continued to sob.

It was over before it began. Song couldn’t bring himself to start the fight. Instead he resolved to prove himself to his mother. ‘Maybe I’m stuck playing a girl…for now, but that doesn't mean it has to be forever. I’m not going to let that white bitch win. I’m going to make Mom so proud, she’ll be just as happy with me whether I’m a boy or a girl! Then things can go back to normal!’

Emotions overflowing thanks to keeping them bottled up for so long, plus the medication, the teen continued to cry, enjoying the warm embrace he didn’t realize he missed. The crying boy's first idea was to prove himself at the shop. His mother always took an interest in people at work after they proved themselves. ‘Why else would she care about Eun?’ he thought.

After a few weeks, Song approached the front desk at Rim where the two women were going over the books. “Ummm…Ms Park, Mrs Rim…Could I request next Saturday off?” he asked.

“Why is that, little sister?” Eun asked. “Big plans with that lanky boyfriend of yours?”

Not long ago just alluding that he and Brooks were in a relationship would have brought embarrassment, anger, and a blush to his cheeks, but he took it all in stride. “No ma’am.” Song replied, maintaining eye contact to let his supervisor know he meant business. “That’s the next nail-tech certification exam. I’d like to get my license so I can apply for a promotion when one becomes available.”

“Oh, really?” Eun said, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes. “You know that’s taking on more responsibility, right? Things don’t get easier up the ladder here.” She wasn’t sure what Song was up to, thinking the same when the dress-wearing boy started putting in real effort.

Song persevered. “Of course, ma’am. Once school starts back, I’ll have to go part time, but I’ll work every weekend. I should be graduating this year so it’s only for nine months though.”

Grace surprised them both, a joyous smile spreading across her visage. “Eun, go get some petty cash from the safe to pay Song’s exam fees.”

“Actually ma’am,” Song interrupted, “I’ve been saving my paychecks, and I have enough to cover it myself. It’s pretty important to me that I do, honestly.” It still felt odd calling his mom ma’am, but it was how she wanted to be addressed at work and the last thing he was going to do was be deliberately disrespectful.

“Oh really.” Grace and Eun shared a knowing look, both incredibly proud, but neither willing to betray it. “Take the day. Just make sure you bring in a copy of your certificate so we can hang it at your new station.”

“Thank you so much!” Song gushed, but was stopped by a raised hand.

Eun said, “That’s enough, little sister. Get back to work. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

After that Song returned to his duties, beaming brightly at his mother even acknowledging his presence in the shop. The pretty teen knew he’d have her approval sooner rather than later. He’d have his pants back in no time at all.

Since starting at Rim, Emery had quickly risen up to one of the top salespeople. If there was room for an upcharge, the customer invariably accepted it, and did so with a thank you and a smile. The blonde was a natural at sales, laid back, friendly and carefree. No one ever felt the hunger and desperation for a sale like they might at a used car lot. The outgoing teen even started doing her job happily once she learned what commissions were.

“You mean, the more stuff I sell, the more money I make?” Emery asked Eun after receiving her first paycheck fresh out of training. For everyone and their mother to hear, she continued, “That’s more than when me and Song sold pills.” The significant increase in her bank account would have been nice if she’d actually set up direct deposit like she’d been told twice before. Once again Eun swatted her on the head with a rolled up piece of paper for adding another task to the supervisor’s already heavy workload. She threatened to pay her in pennies if it happened one more time. She couldn’t be too mad, as the stress was well worth the blonde’s impact on the bottom line. Right after Eun walked away, Emery looked over her stub, then asked Mary, “Who the fuck is Fica, and why does she get any of my money?”

As the weeks went by, Emery slid into a routine. In the mornings that came too early for her, she would get ready, a process she felt was a lot of work, but worth the effort. It was a big change, someone who often didn’t wash their hair becoming someone that got up early to put on makeup and often slept in rollers. She’d ride the bus with Song, Emmanuel, or both. There’d be a few pleasant kisses goodbye, the boy improving tenfold under her tutelage. Most of her time after that was spent gabbing with Mary, her favorite part of the day, while the two tried new products, Mary filming occasionally to “feed the content monster” as she called it. They had developed quite the rapport and Emery was smitten. Mary was as well, but tried to keep their relationship professional. That was at least until one fateful day.

One Saturday afternoon the cosmetics counter girls were discussing lipstick colors for the coming fall season, how darker colors like plum were in and glossy lips coming back. During this conversation Emmanuel strolled through the door of Rim Beauty. “Hey, Beautiful.” the boy said with a smile, approaching his girlfriend with flowers in hand, daydream tulips as bright as Emery’s joyous expression. “It’s been two months since we started dating, and I wanted to do something special to mark the occasion. I saw these, bright and beautiful, and I thought of you.”

Emery wasn’t exactly thrilled about the two “dating” as the boy described it, or that it had been going on for two months. She didn’t really like to kiss him. She definitely didn’t like sucking his dick. Him blowing her was fine, probably the best use of his mouth if she was being honest. It wasn’t like the gifts, and praise hurt, but they hardly made the whole ordeal worth it. Still, she knew it was probably best to keep her frustrations to herself. “Pretty!” she squealed, an honest reaction to her first time receiving flowers. Taking the bouquet, she tried to stuff it into the pocket of her apron. Emmanuel looked on in horror, thinking of the hefty sum he’d spent on the gift, but afraid to say anything that might hurt his cutie’s feelings.

Mary swooped in to save the day, taking the flowers from Emery, saying, “The orchids up front are silk. I’ll let you two chat for a minute while I steal their vase, and get these in water. You’ve got a good boyfriend.” As the words left her mouth the pink haired girl thought to herself, ‘I could do better though.’

“So, I’ve got my mom’s car today. I can pick you up from work if you want to hang out after. When I leave here I’m going to Song’s. Maybe the three of us could do something later.” Emmanuel had plenty of dates with his two partners, an embarrassment of riches to the typical high school boy. He even went to the same movie twice, once with each of them, and still had no clue what it was about with all the hanky panky distracting the horny boy. What he truly desired though was a repeat of that night at Emery’s slumber party, but the closest he’d come was a girlfriend hanging off each arm as he kissed them goodbye on his way to work.

Thinking of the free dinner that might come with those plans, Emery, tummy already rumbling, said, “That could be fun. I’m off at six. Don’t be late.” Her voice was playful, and cute, but she was basically pushing her suitor out of the store, eager to get back to her conversation with Mary.

“See you then!” the boy said excitedly, squeezing the well groomed hands pushing at his chest before turning and walking out with naughty imaginings of what could possibly be coming later.

Just as Emmanuel was leaving, Mary came from the back, and set the flowers on the front desk, brightening up the shop. She watched her protege kiss her boyfriend goodbye, thinking she should keep her mouth shut, but struck by impulse, she had to satisfy her curiosity. When she and Emery returned to the counter, she blurted out her question. “So you guys are in a throuple, right?”

“A throuple?” The concept of a portmanteau was a smidge beyond the airhead.

“Yeah…” Mary replied, realizing she might need to be more clear. “You, Song, and that boy, Elvis or whatever…you all date, right?” The makeup artist knew his name, but her jealousy prevented her from getting it right. “I’ve just seen you three kissing is why I ask.”

“Who…oh, Manny?!” Emery asked, catching on. “I mean, I guess so. We’ve hooked up a few times, but honestly I think I like kissing Song more.” Emery thought of her petite friend who had curves in all the right places. Song’s breasts were slightly larger than her own and thanks to diet and consistent corset use now had a narrow waist to go with them. ‘Yeah, Song is much prettier than Manny.’

“That’s just…” The responsible part of her brain was telling Mary there were lines that shouldn’t be crossed in the workplace, but her libido told that part to take the day off. “...so fucking hot! Like, really hot! I’ve always wanted to have a three-way!”

“It would probably be even hotter if I actually liked him like that. Like, I guess his oral is okay.” Emery’s face painted a picture of a girl reviewing a b-plus movie rather than one gushing over her lover.

Mary was very confused. “You don’t like your boyfriend?”

Emery thought about it for a moment, then explained, “It’s umm…complicated I guess. He’s sweet, and the attention is nice. He doesn’t talk a lot though. I don’t mind the foot rubs. It’s just like, a lot has happened in the past few months, and most of it hasn’t been great…but the best of it all is I found my favorite person to spend time with." With those words, Emery’s hand naturally found its way to Mary’s while the two leaned on the glass counter. The pair looked into each other’s eyes as they blushed sweetly, each knowing what the other was thinking without having to say a word. This hit Mary hard, most people finding her a bit much, but the object of her affections had just basically told her that she was her favorite person.

Like a child telepathically sensing their parents were about to get busy, and suddenly wanting a glass of water, Eun walked up to the counter and said, “Your truck is here, Mary. The driver’s finished unloading, but he’s still waiting on a signature.”

The makeup counter girls pulled apart quickly, hoping they weren’t caught even though they obviously were. As she went to the back, Mary daydreamed of a candlelit dinner with Emery before the two hooked up with their sexy waiter. Emery did something she rarely had occasion to. She thought hard…very hard, trying to come up with a way to end things with Manny without all the formerly delinquent boys going to jail.

As Emmanuel drove up to Song’s house, he checked his reflection in the mirror a dozen times. The past few weeks had been fruitful for the boy, getting a phone that was made this century, its wallpaper being that adorable picture of his girlfriends Bianca snapped the day they got their breasts. He replaced his half destroyed wardrobe with clothing suitable for a Wall street stockbroker, and spoiled his two favorite ladies every chance he got. Pulling into the driveway, he parked the little sedan to the side, not wanting to get in the way, and give Mrs Rim another reason to hate him. As he approached the door, before knocking he heard the voice of an angel, singing in a language he couldn’t understand, but filled his heart with warmth nonetheless.

The boy had to knock four times before someone finally heard him over the blaring bass beats accompanying the music. When the large walnut door swung open, it was Song there, as pretty as she always was, bringing a smile to his face.

“I didn’t know you were coming, Emmanuel.” Song said, a little miffed to not, at the very least, get a text first. The girlish boy cringed, hoping Brooks hadn’t heard his skilled soprano on the karaoke machine.

“Today is our two month anniversary, and I uhh, got you flowers.” Emmanuel held the bouquet out from his chest, the whole scene looking like an anime love confession.

“Ah…” Song looked at the roses, some breed he’d never seen before, sporting white petals with red tips. “You shouldn't have.” Getting flowers was something he never thought he would experience. Boys gave them to girls they liked and now he was that girl. It was a thought he didn’t find pleasant. Still, after all this time with the tall boy, having to hang off him, and please him, part of Song felt a need for his approval.

“Yeah well…” Emmanuel rubbed the back of his neck. “I was thinking about you and I wanted you to know it. I saw these and they felt perfect. Unique, beautiful, and a little bit thorny.”

Song could feel the sharp barbs as he leaned in closer to smell them. The flowers hid the small blush that came unbidden to his cheeks. The gift wasn’t just about getting something nice. Brooks had been thinking about him and picked out something that specifically reminded him of Song. For a second the flowers felt like a better gift than most of the things he’d been given over the years. Shaking his head, the feminine teen tried to dismiss the feeling. ‘I’m even starting to think like a girl… get it together!’ he told himself before taking another whiff of the bouquet in his manicured hands.

“Do you want to go out with me and Emery tonight? I was thinking we could maybe do something, the three of us for a change…like old times…”

“Oh sorry,” Song said, weighing which was the lesser of two evils in his head, as he accepted the gift. “Actually, I passed my nail-tech certification today, and I promised my mom we’d celebrate together.” Emmanuel couldn’t help but frown, causing Song to panic, thinking of the tortures that crazy bitch would inflict if Brooks told her of his rejection. He quickly added, “But, I really want to. It’s just, you know…moms.” Song, barefoot, stood up on his tiptoes and kissed the boy half on the lips, half on the cheek. “We can do something tomorrow, if you want though.”

Just then Grace came barreling around the corner, microphone in hand, singing, “Deo chumchugo sipeo I. eosaekan seollem jogeum seotulleodo. You make me crazy like I am.” then stuck the mic in Song’s face. Her child didn’t sing a word, instead making a face like they were going to die on the spot. Like the boy wasn’t standing on the porch, she said “The redneck has good taste at least.” she said, sniffing the red-white roses. “In flowers, and in girls.” She kissed her daughter on the cheek then said, “Hurry back, honey. I’ve already got the next song picked out for my Song.” The woman chuckled at her pun then glared at Emmanuel, saying, “No boys allowed.” before dancing her way back into the living room and leaving the kids to say their goodbyes. Song sighed, and tried to be grateful his mother had at least given up on landing him a record deal.

The following Friday, the girls once again sat in front of Bianca’s desk, going through the motions, until their tormentor finished her usual diatribe. Emmanuel had the day off, so this was one of those particular times when she could be more candid. She said, “Girls, I have to say, I’m very proud of you. Not only have you been keeping up with your homework assignments, but your attitudes have improved as well. You even had a slumber party all on your own. How adorable! You’ve both earned a little bit of trust, so I’ve decided to take a little vacation next weekend to go visit my friend in Florida. I’m only going to ask that you help Emmanuel clean his apartment again while I’m gone. He was telling me his mom has been pretty busy lately, and I know he could use the help. You both will be good, right?”

Neither opened their mouths, having learned saying as little as possible meant Bianca grew bored quicker, and when she did they could usually catch an earlier bus. Instead they’d nod their heads until being dismissed.

“Excellent. Disbehave and your boyfriend will teach you a little discipline and take you over his knee for another spanking.” she said, making sure they remembered there was a stick before adding the carrot. “Song this is for you.” She handed the envelope with the buy one get one coupon for the shoe store after the dark haired girl won the blowjob competition for the second week in a row. Song had given Emmanuel an extra blowjob, not keeping to the deal struck with Emery. “Keep this up, and you both will be free to return to your lives as boys sooner rather than later. Have a nice weekend, ladies.” She wanted to try and push them to take things further, seeing the now demure Song bent over her desk and being fucked was an idea that tickled her fancy. A proper ending to the boy that had practically dared her to do her worse the first time they met. ‘That can wait till I get back.’

Leaving the mall, and walking down the sidewalk to the bus stop, Song noticed Emery was crying. He asked, “Bitch, what’s wrong?”

The girl said, “I don’t want to go back to being a boy.” tears and mascara streaming down her face.

It took a moment for Song to process that his friend wasn’t like herself. “Girl, calm down.” Song then pulled his bestie in for a hug, an unthinkable act at the start of the summer, but now the norm. “She’s not going to make you be a boy. She’s just saying you’ll have a choice. Not that I think I will, yet. If my mother has her way, I’ll wind up married to one of her business partner’s shitty kids.” He thought about how he’d gotten the nail tech certification, and how happy both his parents were. He should have brought up returning to manhood, but instead he thought of other certifications he could get, the teen not mature enough to understand he was unconsciously chasing a high.

“Oh…okay…” the blonde wiped away some of the mess, sniffling as she **** a smile. “I just wish I didn’t have to blow Manny anymore. He keeps acting like I like it, and I hate swallowing his umm…you know, it’s confusing.” Bianca might have been able to turn Emery into a girl, but despite her best efforts she couldn’t make her into a straight girl.

Pulling away, Song locked eyes with his bestie and said, “Actually…about that…I’ve been scheming a little. How would you feel about a little ****?”

“Scheming?” Emery said, her mischievous grin returned. “Why Miss Song, I thought you’d forgotten how.”

“I was thinking…” Song started to say before Emery spoke over him.

“Scheming!” Emery said, trying to correct her friend.

“We have to blow Brooks, clean his place, hang off him and pretend we are in love, and him…he tells that bitch everything. He even spanked me and almost you, all the while acting like we enjoy this. Trust me, babe. By the time I’m done, we’ll never have to suck Brooks’ dick again.” Standing so close to Emery, Song resisted what had been so ingrained into him, turning his head so he didn’t lean in to kiss his friend with her pretty doll-like blue eyes. After stepping onto their bus, Song pulled out his phone, and found his way to a particular dark-web site he’d used a lot in his **** dealing days. It was there he placed an order, rush delivery and all, and he thought to himself, ‘If I have my way, nobody is ever going to have to suck that dick again.’