Well yeah

Both Michael and Felicia do amazing at their respective practices as if they have both been doing this their entire lives as

The football cleats crunched against the turf as Michael broke into a sprint, the muscle memory of a thousand practices thrumming through his veins. A playbook he’d never consciously studied flashed behind his eyelids routes, formations, the exact angle to cut when Rodriguez lobbed the ball. It arced high, sunlight glinting off the stitches, and his fingers closed around it with a slap that echoed across the field. Behind him, Jackson whistled low. "Damn, jane. When’d you get hands like that?"

Felicia’s spine straightened as the cheer captain barked orders, her body moving before the count even finished.

they both get more memories of their respective new body lives flowing through their minds as Michael as been on the football team since high school not the smartest person in class but just gets by but is amazing at football. Felicia gets memories of her joining the cheerleader team in high school to get closer to the rich kids so she could take things without being caught doing everything she can to fit in while doing any hustle to pay bills

The cheer formation snapped into place, Felicia’s muscles burning as she balanced on Brittany’s shoulders, the scent of her strawberry shampoo mixing with the acrid tang of hairspray. A flicker of memory stealing a gold bracelet from some trust-fund girl’s locker, the weight of it cool against her wrist made her fingers twitch. Below her, Brittany’s breath hitched. "You good up there?" she whispered, the words vibrating through Felicia’s sneakers.

Felicia tightened her grip on Brittany’s shoulders, her toes digging into the firm muscle beneath the cheer uniform. "Yeah, sorry," she murmured, voice barely audible over the rustle of pom-poms and the distant thud of football cleats. "Just deciding on what dress to wear to Harry’s event tonight." The late afternoon sun glinted off Brittany’s hair as she tilted her head back, her smirk visible even upside down.

"Black one," Brittany said without hesitation, her breath warm against Felicia’s ankle. "The one with the cutouts. Makes your tits look insane."

Felicia’s sneakers slapped against the pavement as she broke away from the squad, the late sun casting long shadows across the parking lot. The black dress Brittany had mentioned was already folded in her gym bag, the fabric whispering against her damp practice gear as she unzipped it halfway to check. The scent of her coconut body wash clung to the material, mixing with the sharp tang of sweat still cooling on her skin.

Brittany’s voice carried from behind her, half-laughing as she called out, "Don’t forget the strappy heels the ones that make your legs look like they go on for miles." Felicia shot her a smirk over her shoulder, fingers tightening around the bag’s strap.

Felicia’s smirk widened as she tossed her gym bag onto the passenger seat of her car. "You know it, girl. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow," she called back, the promise dripping from her lips like honey. The door slammed shut, sealing her in the sudden silence of the air conditioned interior.

Her fingers drummed against the steering wheel as she peeled out of the parking lot, the engine’s growl vibrating through her thighs. The shower at her apartment was already a mental image steam curling against the tiles, the razor’s cool glide over her legs, the careful precision around the lace trim of the dress’s daring cutouts. Every inch had to be flawless.

The strappy heels clicked against the pavement as Felicia stepped into the evening air, the black dress clinging to every curve as promised. The limo's door yawned open before she could reach for it, revealing plush leather seats and the faint citrus bite of Harry's cologne. He barely glanced up from his phone, his thumb pausing mid-scroll when the streetlight caught the cutouts along her ribs. "Christ," he muttered, the word dissolving into a low laugh as she slid in beside him. His knee bounced against hers, warm even through the silk of her dress. "So," he said, thumbing his screen dark, "told my old man you're some finance prodigy from school. As harry takes out a black cat mask the bearly covers her face.

Felicia arched an eyebrow at the delicate black cat mask dangling from Harry's fingers. The satin ribbons shimmered under the limo's interior lighting as she took it, her manicured nails grazing his palm just long enough to feel his pulse jump. "Anything else? No fake name? No secret code word?" She turned the mask over, the hollow eye sockets staring back at her like a challenge. "If I say the wrong thing... fine, I guess that'll do."

Harry's grin widened as he leaned back against the leather seat, the cuffs of his dress shirt riding up to reveal the faint tan line from his watch. "Oh yeah," he said, tapping his temple, "and you have to wear this.

fine what mask as you going to wear so I can find you. Felicia says as Harry replied with this green domino mask as they but their respective masks on