And why does Ravi think its a she?

“How do you know it's a girl behind this?” Alroy said as he tried to pull down a jacket, but it was too short to reach the hanger.

Ravi, the tallest of our cursed femboy group, easily plucked it from the rack, unbuttoning it before handing it over. "Because who else do you think we pissed off recently?" he replied flicking Alroy’s forehead causing his cute button nose to scrunch up.

"Ow."

It was almost comical seeing the tallest member of our group—once a towering 6'5" ginger—reduced to a solid 5-foot femboy. As Alroy grabs the woman's medium-sized he then sits down on a step stool and, with shaky hands, starts to pull up a woman's underwear… aka panties.

“Figure that in this giant ass room that she or them would have a giant ass closet to match” Trent muttered, rifling through the jeans, desperately searching for something remotely masculine or, at the very least, something that could accommodate his disproportionately large rear.

Indeed, the large walk-in closet easily accommodated all 5 of us as we hastily dug through walls of clothing options, trying desperately to find something masculine or at least neutral. However, even a plain t-shirt that didn’t hug our bodies evaded us. Even a plain t-shirt that didn’t hug our bodies evaded us

As I pushed aside racks of clothing, my eyes landed on a small sundress. The off-the-shoulder puffed sleeves and delicate floral embroidery stood out starkly against the sea of brown and leather garments. I wasn’t sure why it held my gaze for so long, but I stared at it for a good few solids seconds before I heard some loud shuffling close to me.

You find anything decent, Cal?" Nadim asked, tugging a large jacket off its hanger.

"Oh, um… maybe," I said, quickly grabbing a plain white T-shirt to mask my distraction. "It's not great, but it's not a dress, at least."

"solid pick," Nadim nodded, zipping up a massive puffer jacket indoors.

I wanted to question his decision but decided to let it slide. We weren't exactly in a position to be picky.

I managed to scavenge a pair of flared jeans and some plain briefs, but even as I stared at my reflection, I I could barely pass for a gay twink. The plain white tee clung to my frame, emphasizing my curves in a way that made my stomach churn. My eyes drifted lower, and I gulped.

My… tiny, developing mounds.

"You know, I spotted some sports bras if you want one," Nadim whispered, unzipping his jacket just enough to reveal the one he was wearing. "They’re supportive and help flatten things down."

I stared at him, wide-eyed. My first instinct was to scoff at the suggestion, but then my gaze flicked back to my reflection, locking onto my nipples pressing against the fabric of my shirt. The small buds were more pronounced than before, pulling the fabric taut.

Suddenly, Nadim’s puffer jacket choice made a whole lot of sense.

I bites my lip, considering Nadim's suggestion. I know I should kinda be grateful for the practical advice, but my pride stings at the thought of wearing something so explicitly feminine.

"N-no thank you. I-I’ll just get a jacket," I stammered, hastily grabbing the nearest one and scurrying out.

I barely made it two steps before nearly colliding with Ravi, who stood there all leggy and poised., both hands on his hip.

"You finally done?" he asked, scanning down at my attiret.

Maybe it was paranoia, or maybe I really did see his gaze linger on my chest for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

"It’s… adequate," he finally says.

Something about the comment irked me, and I hastily threw on the short, fleece-lined jacket. I wanted to fire back that his outfit sucked, but as my eyes traveled from his sleek black combat boots to his form-fitting black jeans, then up to his navy button-up shirt and cropped leather jacket, the insult fizzled out before I could even form it.

Even in the middle of this chaotic transformation, Ravi still managed to look effortlessly fashionable.

"Yours too," I muttered begrudgingly.

He chuckled before his attention snapped to the ruckus inside the closet.

"Fuck it! I’m just gonna Donald Duck it!" Trent’s voice rang out. "Nothing fits my fucking fat ass!"

"Just wear a dress, maybe," Alroy offered.

"FUCK NO!"

Ravi sighed, dramatically flinging the double doors open. Inside, Trent was struggling to yank a pair of jeans up past his thick thighs, his frustration palpable.

"There will be no Donald Ducking, Trent! Just grab the waistband and jump! Here, Alroy and I will help," Ravi declared.

The doors swung shut, and I was beyond relieved. The last thing I wanted was to witness the three of them trying to shove Trent’s ass into a pair of too-tight jeans.

The mirror’s glint caught my eye again, and I slowly turned to face it.

God, a narcissist would have a field day with how often I kept checking my reflection. But could you blame me? If you suddenly found yourself in a completely different body, wouldn’t you obsess over it, too?

As I step closer to the mirror I can hear my heart pounding in my chest as I examines my reflection critically. I turn this way and that, running my hands over his hips, waist, and chest. I just truly could not believe how different everything looks now. "This is ridiculous," I whispers to myself.

The jacket did a decent job of masking my chest, but I debated zipping it up all the way. Ultimately, I left it open—it felt too self-conscious otherwise.

Then, my gaze traveled upward.

In the middle of all this chaos, I had forgotten how messy my blond curls had gotten. Damn Ravi and his stupidly perfect straight black hair that always fell effortlessly into place.

Instinctively, I raised my hands, attempting to smooth out my hair, trying in vain to make it look more masc or least more boyish.

My fingers tangle in the blond curls as I try desperately to wrestle them into submission. In frustration I puffs my cheeks out, blowing out a harsh breath that only succeeds in tousling my hair further.

"For fuck's sake," I mutter under my breath, glaring at my reflection.

Then, a thought struck me.

*Did I…?*

*Did I kind of look like my ex?*

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