Ashley's mind is a jumble

Ashley stepped out of Nora's boutique with mixed emotions swirling inside. The dress swished pleasantly against his legs as he walked, the heels clicking rhythmically on the tile floor. His pokemon followed close behind, Hypno beaming with satisfaction while Pikachu maintained a concerned expression.

"I can't believe I 'm doing this," Ashley muttered, clutching the shopping bag containing all his male clothes. He gripped the bag tight to his chest, half hiding his face behind it. His head still felt foggy from the perfume, and his body was starting to feel odd.

As they made their way toward the elevator, Ashley caught glimpses of his reflection in the store windows. The blue dress, hugged his slim frame, with the padded bra creating a convincing illusion of femininity that he attempted to obscure with the bag. His thoughts ping-ponged back and forth, refusing to settle. Somehow the clothes were going to help him get what he wanted but what did that have to do with going on a date with Gary?

"Gary..." The name triggered another wave of confusing emotions.

The elevator doors opened and a group of shoppers exited, giving Ashley curious looks as they passed. He felt his cheeks flush, stepping into the elevator with as much grace as he could manage in the heels, his subconscious pulling from the few memories he had of Misty wearing heels. Once inside, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. As his heart pounded for reasons he couldn't place, he knew he needed some help, but from who?

The elevator eventually stopped at the lobby level. As Ashley stepped out, the department store's massive entrance loomed ahead. The sun was starting to set, painting the sky in brilliant orange and pink hues. He checked the clock on the wall and saw that there was still a bit of time before meeting Gary for dinner.

Pikachu tugged at Ashley's dress, looking up with concerned eyes. "Pika pi..."

"I know, buddy. Something's not right. But I just...I need to..." Ashley trailed off, unable to complete the thought.

Ashley's eyes lingered at the door, seeing the busy street of people past the glass. He needed to get help, but that meant being seen in public wearing a dress and heels. He wanted to retreat and hide...

"But that won't get me what I want..." He whispered.

Gathering his courage, he crossed the lobby and exited the building. Ashley stepped onto the bustling sidewalk, the last rays of sunlight casting long shadows between the buildings as the sound of his heels against the pavement filled his ears. He tried to maintain his balance and with each step doing so was becoming slightly more natural. Still, he kept his head down while the shopping bag rustled against his chest like a shield.

"Hypno hyp," his pokemon sang happily at his side.

"I'm glad someone is happy," he thought as something caught his eye.

A chic salon across the street came to his attention giving him pause. The thought that they could help him rushed to the front of his thoughts. He wasn't sure how they could but with how strange things had been, he would be happy for help from anywhere this was exactly where he needed to go. His feet had already been moving of their own accord, carrying him toward the crosswalk as Pikachu trailed behind, ears drooping with worry.

The salon's bell chimed as Ashley entered, and several heads turned his way. The scent of hairspray and floral shampoo filled his nostrils, unpleasant and alien to his nose.

"Welcome!" A stylish woman with vibrant pink hair approached. "I'm Jasmine. Can I help you?"

"Yes, please," he said, happy to hear confirmation that she could help him.

"Of course, honey! Let's get you in a chair." Jasmine's smile was warm and professional as she led Ashley to a styling station. In the mirror, his reflection looked back at him - flushed cheeks, uncertain eyes, and slightly disheveled hair from air drying.

"What are you thinking?" Jasmine ran her fingers through Ashley's dark hair, and he felt himself relax slightly at the touch, even as his mind raced with confusion.

"That's the trouble, I don't know," he admitted.

"Don't worry, sweetie. I get that all the time. You are in good hands," Jasmine draped a cape around Ashley's shoulders, and the salon chair seemed to swallow him up as she began to work.