The violet swimming trunks

Jenny held up the violet swimsuit. "Well, we still have this one." She then tilted her head, smirking. "Or else… we might have to bring this boy to the kids' section."

Glenn stiffened. His body locked up at the mere thought.

Without a second of hesitation, he grabbed the violet swimsuit out of Jenny’s hands and marched straight toward the changing room.

But as he walked, he noticed a small group of women lingering just outside the fitting area, chatting casually. To his horror, there was also a short queue for the stalls.

Glenn came to a stop, his stomach twisting into knots.

There he was, standing under the store’s fluorescent lights—his face burning red, his white T-shirt barely covering the XXS black speedo that clung embarrassingly tight to his body.

He **** himself to look away, but he could already feel the eyes of the women around him.

And now, he had **** but to wait in line… dressed like this.

The queue was moving painfully slow. Glenn shifted his weight from foot to foot, willing time to move faster. Each second standing in the XXS black speedo felt like an eternity.