Council house

Sylvie stood in the hallway of her comfortable house, staring at the small suitcase she had packed. A week’s worth of clothes. Mostly casual items she rarely wore: dark jeans, simple tops, a hoodie or two. She had told Alex she was helping a friend with wedding planning and would be staying with her for the week. He had been supportive, if a little surprised, and wished her well.

She had taken the week off work, citing “personal matters.” Now there was no turning back.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Courtney:

“Address is 47 Maple Grove. Don’t be late, princess. We’ve got plans for you ”

Sylvie took a deep breath, picked up her suitcase, and drove toward the estate. The further she went, the more the surroundings changed. Neat houses gave way to rows of identical council properties, some with peeling paint, overgrown gardens, and cars parked on the pavement. She felt a knot of anxiety in her stomach. This was a mistake. A stupid, impulsive mistake.

She pulled up outside number 47. It was a modest semi-detached house with a small front garden that looked like it hadn’t been tended in years. The door opened before she even got out of the car.

Courtney stood there in a black tracksuit, gold hoops swinging, cigarette in hand. She grinned.

“Well, well. You actually showed up. Thought you’d chicken out, posh girl.”

Sylvie stepped out of the car, trying to maintain her dignity. “I said I would come. I keep my word.”

Courtney laughed and waved her inside. “Come on then. Welcome to the real world.”

The inside of the house was chaotic but lived-in. Clothes were scattered on the sofa, empty cider cans on the coffee table, and the faint smell of cigarettes and weed hung in the air. Two new girls were already there, lounging on the sofa watching reality TV.

One was a petite tattooed Asian girl with a deep fake tan, heavy makeup, and surprisingly big breasts that strained against her tight crop top. The other was a pasty white girl with a small chest but a noticeably bubbly, round ass that filled out her tracksuit bottoms.

Courtney announced loudly, “Girls, meet our new housemate for the week. This is Sylvie. Proper posh bird who thinks she’s better than us.”

The Asian girl, who introduced herself as Jade, looked her up and down with a smirk. “Cute suitcase. Bet it cost more than our rent.”

The pasty white girl, named Charlotte, grinned. “She looks like she’s never been in a house without a fucking doorman before.”

Sylvie stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, clutching her bag. “So… where am I sleeping?”

Courtney pointed to a small room at the back. “Spare room. Drop your stuff in there, get changed into something more casual, and come join us. We’re ordering pizza and cracking open some drinks. Proper welcome party.”

Sylvie went to the small bedroom. Courtney followed her in and leaned against the doorframe, watching with a smirk.

“Get changed then. I’ll wait.”

Sylvie felt her face heat up. “I’d rather change alone, thank you.”

Courtney laughed. “What’s the matter, princess? Shy? We’re all girls here.”

Sylvie stood her ground, arms crossed. “I’m not changing in front of you. Please leave.”

Courtney rolled her eyes but finally stepped out, closing the door behind her with a dramatic sigh. “Fine, posh girl. Hurry up.”

Sylvie quickly changed into what she considered casual: dark jeans, a simple blouse, and a light cardigan. She still looked posh and completely out of place. When she came back out into the living room, Courtney took one look at her and burst out laughing.

“God, even your casual wear makes you look like a posh cunt. Let me look at what you’ve brought.”

Courtney marched into the spare room without waiting for permission, opened Sylvie’s suitcase, and started rummaging through it while Sylvie stayed in the living room, mortified. She could hear Courtney throwing clothes into a pile and muttering to herself.

A few minutes later, Courtney came back out and grabbed Sylvie’s arm.

“You ain’t dressing like a posh bitch in our home, babes. Follow me and we’ll get you sorted.”

Sylvie tried to argue, her voice hesitant but firm. “This is perfectly acceptable casual wear. I don’t see why I need to change my entire style just because—”

Courtney cut her off with a sharp laugh. “Just come on. No point fighting it. You’re here for the week, remember?”

Sylvie hesitated, wanting to push back, but decided there was no point giving Courtney the satisfaction of winning an argument so early. She followed her to Courtney’s room.

Courtney opened her wardrobe, revealing a chaotic mix of tracksuits, cropped tops, tight dresses, shiny leggings, and lots of gold accessories.

“Pick something,” Courtney said with a smirk. “Or I’ll pick for you.”

Sylvie stared at the clothes, her stomach twisting with reluctance. After a long, argumentative pause where she tried to negotiate for something less revealing, she finally gave in. She picked a black tracksuit with white stripes, a cropped white top, and a pair of trainers.

When she emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, Sylvie was wearing her new chav outfit. The tracksuit hugged her figure, the cropped top showed a sliver of her midriff, and she had removed all her jewelry. She still looked like herself underneath it all, but the change was jarring.

Courtney grinned. “There we go. Much better. Now you almost look like you belong.”