The Skater Girl

“Alright, Robin, see you tomorrow!” Zoe Moretti called across the parlor as she tossed a damp towel over one shoulder and turned toward the sticky soda fountain waiting for her attention.

“Catch ya later, Zo!” Robin Shepard called back with an easy grin, already halfway through the glass front door before slipping out into the chilly Newark, New Jersey night.

A gust of damp autumn air swept in behind them, carrying the smell of rain, wet pavement, and traffic from the streets outside. Robin tugged their hoodie tighter around their shoulders, gave Zoe one last little wave through the glass, and disappeared beneath the glow of downtown Newark’s streetlights.

Zoe stood there watching for a second longer than she meant to, her blue eyes following Robin’s retreating figure until the rain and passing headlights swallowed them completely. With a long, languid sigh, she dragged herself over to the entrance and turned the lock. She reached up afterward and flicked off the neon OPEN sign, plunging that side of Uncle Guido’s Pizza Parlor into slightly dimmer light.

‘Great job, Zo. Really nailed it again tonight.’ Her reflection stared back at her from the darkened glass as she leaned against the door for a moment. Long brunette hair spilled straight down her back, with a heavy section falling over one of her blue eyes, and a few silver hoops and studs climbed the shell of one ear. Her septum ring caught the muted restaurant lights whenever she moved, while the cropped pizzeria shirt beneath her open red hoodie left the small jewel at her navel visible above the waistband of her pants.

Zoe frowned at herself and folded her arms. ‘Three years of knowing them. Two years of being stupidly obsessed with them. And my big move tonight was “See you tomorrow.” Fucking Casanova over here.’

Yesterday went about the same way, and the day before that, too. There was always some excuse. Too busy, too tired, Robin was leaving, Cousin Lorenzo was nearby, some customer was hanging around, it wasn’t the right moment. Eventually, even Zoe had started realizing those weren’t reasons. She was just scared.

Robin had become part of the furniture at Uncle Guido’s before Zoe had even realized what was happening. They had started working there while attending nearby Rutgers University, originally just another college student looking for a flexible paycheck and free food, but weeks became months, and months became years. Somewhere along the way, Robin stopped being “that college dork” and became Robin: the person who knew exactly how Zoe liked her pizza, covered the counter when some regular started getting too chatty with her, laughed at her stupid videos, listened when she rambled about landing a trick she’d been trying to nail for three weeks, and somehow looked ridiculously good no matter what direction their presentation leaned that day.

That part occasionally tied Zoe’s brain into knots. Robin was genderfluid, and Zoe understood the basic concept. Mostly. Probably. She did try, and she tried damn hard. Some days Robin preferred being called he; some days she; mostly they; and sometimes Zoe had to slam on the mental brakes halfway through a sentence when her mouth started moving faster than her memory. She had apologized enough times for Robin to finally tell her to stop acting like every accidental slip was a hate crime, which had helped a little. What hadn’t helped was Zoe’s own brain insistently trying to shove Robin into the category marked BOYFRIEND whenever she imagined the two of them together.

‘Or partner. Or whatever the hell they’d want,’ Zoe thought as she groaned and dragged both hands down her face. ‘They can call it whatever they want if I ever actually grow a pair and ask them out.’

With another sigh, she pushed away from the door and trudged toward the soda fountain.

The aftermath waiting for her was horrific. A sticky puddle of cola had formed beneath the dispensers, ice cubes slowly melting in the drip tray, and someone had apparently decided that dropping three straw wrappers and half a lemon slice beside the machine was acceptable behavior. Zoe pulled the towel from her shoulder and attacked the mess with a look of disgust.

“Animals,” she muttered as she popped one of the soda nozzles free and inspected the syrupy underside. “We serve animals.”

“You say that every night,” Mei Moretti called from behind her as she emerged from the kitchen carrying a closed pizza box against one hip.

Zoe glanced over one shoulder and gave her aunt a tired look. At thirty-five, Mei looked far too young for the word widow to belong anywhere near her. She was Chinese-American, with long dark hair swept loosely back from her face into an updo, warm brown eyes, and a curvy figure that somehow made even black slacks and a simple white blouse look more flattering than restaurant work clothes had any right to. Zoe wasn’t jealous of her boobs. Not in the slightest.

“Robin already leave?” The pizzeria owner asked, glancing toward the darkened front entrance and adjusting the pizza box in her hands.

“Yep,” Zoe replied while dropping the nozzle into sanitizer. “Escaped into the night before I could make them clean this crime scene.”

Mei lifted the pizza box slightly and sighed. “Damn. I was going to send this home with them so that they and that cute Spanish girl they’re dating would have something for dinner.”

“They aren’t dating,” Zoe spoke with finality. “Itzel and them aren’t like that; they’re just-”

“Friends? Sure, hun.” Mei giggled into her hand. “A couple of cuties rooming together like that? Surely something is up.”

The younger woman stomped and leveled an annoyed glare at the woman she thought of as an older sister. “Go watch more of your raunchy reality shows if you want to fantasize so much, pervert.”

“Boo.” Mei feigned a pout with teary eyes. “Let me have some fun. It’s not like you’re giving me any material to gossip about. I swear you should just ask Robin-”

“F-fuck off already,” Zoe aimed her spray bottle at her aunt and threatened her with a spray of mist.

‘So easy.’ Mei giggled before looking at the boxed, sealed pizza in her hands. “Still… I was hoping to give them this pizza…”

“You know Robin cooks pizza for like six hours every shift, right?” Zoe asked, snorting, as she continued to wipe down the counter. “They probably go home and have nightmares about mozzarella.”

“No one gets tired of pizza,” Mei said with complete seriousness as she leaned against the prep counter.

“Normal people absolutely do,” Zoe shot back, grinning as she scrubbed at a syrup stain.

“Not ours,” Mei replied with a small pout, hugging the pizza box against her stomach.

Zoe laughed and shook her head. “Yeah, okay. Uncle Matteo really brainwashed you real good.”

The words slipped out naturally, but Zoe’s hands slowed almost immediately. Her smile faded as she looked cautiously toward Mei. ‘Shit.’

There were still moments when Matteo’s absence hit hard. He had been gone long enough that people no longer tiptoed around saying his name, but not long enough that it didn’t occasionally hang in the air afterward. Zoe expected at least a brief shadow to cross Mei’s face.

Instead, Mei slowly turned toward her with a teasing grin. “Is that how Robin captured your heart?”

Zoe froze with the towel in one hand. “What?”

“Pizza brainwashing,” Mei clarified as she shifted the box to one hip and raised an eyebrow.

“Robin has not captured shit,” Zoe fired back much too quickly, jabbing the towel aggressively into the soda tray. “They’re my friend.”

“Mhm,” Mei hummed as she crossed her arms.

“My coworker,” Zoe added while glaring at the machine instead of her.

“Mhm,” Mei repeated, her smile getting worse.

“Will you stop fucking ‘mhm’-ing me?” Zoe snapped as she finally looked over.

“Us Moretti women really are all alike,” Mei said with a giggle, shaking her head. “Just one bite of meat lovers and we’re hooked.”

“Jesus… You’re the worst.” Zoe pouted before pointing the towel at her. “And what do you mean by 'Us Moretti’? You married into the family.”

“Heartless!” Mei placed a hand dramatically against her chest. “After everything I’ve done for this bloodline?”

“You don’t have the bloodline!” Zoe shot back, laughing despite herself.

“That sounds discriminatory,” Mei replied as she straightened with mock offense.

“Girl, we literally aren’t related by blood.” Zoe rolled her eyes yet again.

“I’m calling Grandma Moretti,” Mei said as she reached toward her pocket as if she might actually pull out her phone.

“So dumb,” Zoe said through a bark of laughter, shaking her head.

Before Mei could retaliate, a rapid pounding rattled the front door. Both women turned toward the glass to find a young man in a soaked rain jacket standing beneath the awning, phone raised in one hand while the other knocked desperately against the door.

“Pickup!” the driver shouted through the glass as he held up his phone. “DineDash!”

Zoe stared at him, then very deliberately pointed toward the dark OPEN sign.

The delivery driver clasped his hands together pleadingly and leaned closer to the glass. “Please! I already accepted it! I gotta complete the order, or they dock me!”

Mei exhaled through her nose while Zoe folded her arms smugly. Without saying anything at first, Mei glanced down at the pizza box still in her hands.

“Ah, I see,” Mei said as she headed toward the door. “I suppose it’s good that Robin didn’t get it.”

“Fate,” Zoe replied solemnly as she leaned back against the fountain. “The universe demanded some random dude in the rain get paid.”

Mei unlocked the front door and opened it just enough to hand the box through. “Here you go.”

“Oh my God, thank you,” the driver said as he hurriedly tapped through something on his phone. “Hang on. Gotta verify.”

“Take your time,” Mei replied with a smile that visibly strained at the edges.

A confirmation tone chirped from his phone, and the driver quickly tucked the pizza beneath his insulated bag. “Got it. Thank you. Seriously.”

Mei nodded and watched him disappear back into the rain before closing the door and locking it again.

“You remembered this time,” Zoe called from the soda fountain with a smug grin.

“Shut up,” Mei replied over her shoulder as she started back toward the counter.

The moment Mei stepped away from the entrance, Zoe launched into a familiar rant while snapping another soda nozzle into place. “I’m telling you, these delivery apps are garbage. Half the drivers show up forty minutes late, the other half grab the wrong shit, and then customers call us pissed because their meatball parm is doing a tour of Essex County.”

“They save us money on hiring drivers,” Mei recited automatically as she reached the counter and started straightening a stack of receipts.

“And manpower,” Zoe mocked in a sing-song imitation while spraying down the fountain.

“And manpower,” Mei repeated with a knowing look.

“They take like thirty percent,” Zoe complained as she wiped the counter harder than necessary.

“We adjusted the app prices,” Mei replied while tapping the receipts into a neat stack.

“They still suck,” Zoe said as she tossed the rag over her shoulder.

“They’re convenient,” Mei countered, clearly enjoying the ritual argument.

“You know what was convenient?” Zoe asked, pointing both thumbs toward herself. “Me delivering everything.”

“Hun, I know you’re good at skateboarding and all, but you know I can’t be letting you out there in that hellish traffic again.” Mei sighed, reminding her niece of the risks she used to put herself in. “Plus you can’t do it all on your own. We’re slightly more popular than when you were in high school, and these services help our outreach.”

“Stop using your damn logic.” Zoe pouted, realizing this was once again a battle she would lose.

Mei laughed and shook her head. “I know you just want an excuse to skateboard while you’re getting paid.”

“Duh!” Zoe fired back without hesitation, grinning.

“If I had a choice, I’d be getting paid to skate anyway,” Zoe added as she snapped the last soda nozzle back into place and leaned against the machine.

“You do technically have a choice,” Mei said as she started organizing the till.

“Oh yeah?” Zoe asked as she crossed her arms. “Where’s my sponsorship deal?”

“Don’t you have a few hundred followers these days?” Mei asked while counting a few bills.

“Fuck you,” Zoe replied with a laugh. “As if I can make a career off them.”

Mei laughed too, but her expression suddenly became much too innocent. “Of course, maybe that isn’t why you hate DineDash. I was just thinking about that blonde driver.”

“Don’t,” Zoe warned while pointing the spray bottle at her.

“The really pretty one,” Mei continued, smiling. “The one who always talks to Robin.”

Zoe squeezed the trigger once, sending a harmless mist toward the counter between them. “That is not why I hate DineDash.”

“She flirts with them every single time she comes in,” Mei said as she wiped away the stray droplets with one finger. “She called Robin cute last Thursday.”

“I didn’t hear that,” Zoe replied while aggressively wiping down the soda fountain.

“You complained about it for twenty minutes,” Mei pointed out as she tilted her head.

“I complained because she was holding up the fucking counter!” Zoe barked back at her older sister figure.

“Of course, of course,” Mei said as she covered her mouth to smother a laugh and pushed away from the counter. “You can skateboard all you want on the way home. Finish the fountain first.”

“Heard,” Zoe called as she gave her a lazy two-finger salute.

“Lorenzo’s handling the kitchen,” Mei added while starting toward the back hallway.

“Cool,” Zoe replied as she wiped down the last sticky patch.

Mei waved goodnight as she disappeared through the rear doorway, probably heading upstairs to the apartment above the restaurant and the financial paperwork she always seemed to have waiting for her.

Now alone, Zoe returned to cleaning. The restaurant had fallen almost completely silent without customers, ovens roaring, dishes clattering, Lorenzo yelling something incomprehensible from the kitchen, or Robin humming along to whatever lo-fi playlist they had playing. Uncle Guido’s felt weirdly large in the quiet.

A television hung high in one corner near the dining area. Usually they kept sports on, but tonight some documentary channel had taken over. Zoe barely noticed until dramatic music swelled from the speakers and a title appeared across the screen.

THE LOST HEIRESS: THE PERDUE DISAPPEARANCE

“Huh,” Zoe murmured as she straightened slightly and looked up at the screen. “What are the odds?”

Robin had been talking about that case earlier. Of course they had. Robin loved weird disappearances, cold cases, unsolved murders, missing persons, and conspiracies that were just plausible enough to make you uncomfortable. As far as Zoe could tell, Robin’s entire audio diet consisted of lo-fi music and crime podcasts.

Earlier that day, while stretching dough beside Lorenzo, Robin had spent nearly twenty minutes explaining some theory about a missing heiress connected to the Perdue chicken company. Something about woodland creatures. Zoe had listened. Sort of. Mostly she had watched Robin talk. There was something cute about the way they got when they were interested in something, how their whole face changed, their hands moved more, and their voice picked up speed.

“Sorry, Robin,” Zoe said as she reached for the remote beside the register. “Not my thing.”

Her thumb hovered over the power button just as the front door opened and the little bell above it jingled.

“We’re closed!” Zoe jumped and spun around. ‘Jesus Christ, Mei, I thought you locked-’

She stopped when she saw nobody standing in the doorway. Rain mist drifted briefly inside before the door slowly swung shut again.

Zoe blinked and lowered the remote. “What the fuck?”

Something was waddling across the tile toward her.

A chicken.

A small chicken.

Wearing a tie.

Zoe glanced toward the kitchen, then back at the chicken. ‘I didn’t have any edibles today, did I?’

She cautiously crouched and extended one hand. “Hey, little guy. How the hell did you get in here?”

The chicken stopped in front of her and looked up.

Zoe gave it an awkward little smile. “Did somebody toss you in here?”

The bird sighed.

Zoe’s smile vanished as she slowly pulled her hand back.

The chicken ruffled its feathers and looked up at her with the exhausted expression of someone reaching the end of a very long workday. “Sorry. It’s your turn, Darlin’.”

Zoe stared at it with her lips parted, but nothing came out for a second. Then she slowly raised one finger. “…What the fuck?”

The bird shot upward and lightly pecked her directly in the forehead.

Zoe’s blue eyes crossed as she touched the spot in confusion. “Did you just-”

Her knees buckled before she could finish.

Zoe collapsed sideways onto the tile, her long brunette hair spilling around her face as consciousness disappeared instantly. The chicken landed beside her and calmly adjusted its tie as everything went black.

---

Jack spread her arms toward the marble stage with all the theatrical grandeur of someone unveiling the grand prize on a game show. “Ladies, gentlemen, assorted terrestrial classifications, and everyone watching from somewhere considerably less interesting than here, please welcome our third contestant, Zoe Moretti!”

Robin barely registered the announcement itself. They were still trying to wrap their head around how Jack’s appearance had apparently changed again somewhere along the way without their noticing. The host now stood several inches taller than before, having taken the form of a striking woman with crimson hair spilling beneath a tilted black fedora. A tight green dress hugged a slender torso before flaring over dramatically wide hips, while a feathered white boa curled around her shoulders. Small breasts pressed modestly against the neckline, but Jack’s most arresting feature was her eyes: crimson irises surrounding narrow slit pupils that gave every playful glance an unmistakably serpentine quality. Even her smile seemed different, stretching just a little too slowly across her face whenever she spoke.

Robin might have spent another minute staring at the transformation if a burst of light hadn’t flashed across the stage.

Someone appeared directly in front of them.

Long straight brunette hair cascaded down her back, with one thick section falling across half her face. Silver earrings climbed the edge of one ear, a small septum ring glinted beneath her nose, and familiar blue eyes gradually focused through a haze of confusion.

Robin’s mouth dropped open. “Zo?”

Zoe Moretti swayed on her feet like someone waking abruptly from the deepest nap of her life. Her eyelids fluttered twice before those bright blue eyes finally locked onto Robin across the marble stage.

“Robin…?” she mumbled as she rubbed the spot on her forehead where a certain formally dressed chicken had pecked her. Her expression scrunched as awareness slowly returned. “Where the fuck are we?”

Jack glided closer, practically slithering across the polished floor despite walking normally, and flourished one hand toward Zoe.

“Welcome, Zoe Moretti,” she purred, the host’s new voice deeper and silkier than before. “You have been selected as one of the fortunate contestants participating in this season of Harem Hotel.”

“Harem…?” Zoe stared at her, then at Robin. Then at the enormous marble stage surrounding them.

Her brow furrowed as she tried to assemble those words into something resembling reality. ‘Maybe I did take an edible and forgot.’

Jack curled one finger beneath her chin and began to continue. “And, more specifically, you shall now have the opportunity to compete for a coveted position within Robin Shepard’s prospective-”

“ZO!” Robin suddenly shouted as they stepped toward her, cutting directly across Jack’s explanation. “What’s your secret identity?”

Zoe stared blankly at her coworker before spreading her hands. “Huh? The fuck you talking about?”

Robin scratched awkwardly at the back of their head, suddenly aware that everyone was staring at them. “I mean… are you human?”

Zoe’s face somehow became even more confused.

“Or, like…” Robin hesitantly continued. “Something else?”

For several seconds, Zoe said absolutely nothing. Her expression flattened into the exact look she normally gave customers who tried ordering garlic knots five minutes after the ovens were shut down. ‘That might actually be the dumbest thing Robin has ever asked me.’

Zoe finally planted one hand on her hip and jabbed her thumb toward herself. “I’m just a girl; could I make it any more obvious?!”

Robin’s face immediately reddened as they gave a sheepish little laugh. “Okay, yeah, hearing it out loud, that was kind of a stupid question.”

A vine-like appendage gently lifted beside Robin.

“Don’t blame them too much,” the blue alien woman said as she folded another tentacular limb across her modest torso. Shimmering orange eyes regarded Zoe from within glossy black sclerae while several flexible tendrils shifted where human hair should have been. “Robin only found out approximately ten minutes ago that I’ve been hiding the fact that I’m an alien from them for years, so paranoia is probably justified.”

Zoe’s grin vanished, and her gaze snapped toward the alien. Something about the face bothered her. It wasn’t recognition exactly, but there was something in the expression. The posture. Her voice.

Her visible eye widened.

“No fucking way,” Zoe whispered as she took one cautious step closer.

Itzel’s tentacle hair shifted nervously.

Zoe pointed at her. “Itzel?”

The alien woman stiffened. “Yes.”

Zoe’s mouth fell open.

Itzel visibly braced herself, shoulders tightening while her tentacles drew slightly closer to her body. She had already survived Robin discovering the truth, but Robin was Robin. Zoe was somebody else entirely, and Itzel couldn’t help anticipating the instinctive recoil that usually came when humans saw something genuinely alien standing in front of them.

Instead, Zoe’s face lit up.

“Holy shit!” Zoe yelled as she practically skipped across the stage toward her. “You’re an alien?!”

Itzel recoiled for an entirely different reason as Zoe came charging in. “Yes, that was the part I just-”

“That is so fucking rad!” Zoe exclaimed as she circled her, blue eyes glittering with unabashed fascination. “Dude, look at you!”

Itzel stared after her. “Uhhh.”

Zoe reached cautiously toward one of the vine-like tentacles hanging beside Itzel’s face, stopping just short of touching it. “Can I?”

Itzel’s orange eyes narrowed suspiciously before one tentacle reluctantly extended toward her. “Gently.”

Zoe practically vibrated as she ran two fingers along the smooth appendage. “Oh, my God. This is so cool.”

“It’s just my hair,” Itzel replied dryly as the tentacle curled around Zoe’s wrist.

“That makes it cooler!” Zoe declared, following its movement with fascination. “Aliens are so dope.”

Robin snorted from nearby, and Itzel glanced toward them with an expression of profound betrayal. “You’re enjoying this.”

“A little,” Robin admitted as they covered their smile with one hand.

Zoe was still examining Itzel’s tentacles when another figure cautiously approached from the opposite side.

Ipheara had watched the interaction with growing hope.

The moth woman stood considerably taller than Zoe, though nearly everything about her demeanor seemed designed to make herself appear smaller. Four arms hung uncertainly at her sides while enormous moth-like eyes regarded Zoe with hesitant curiosity. Her delicate antennae shifted nervously above her head.

Ipheara took one tentative step closer, and Zoe turned, causing her entire body to lock up.

The excitement drained out of her expression in an instant. “Nope.”

She moved behind Itzel so quickly that the alien actually stumbled half a step forward.

“Zoe?” Itzel asked as two of her tentacles lifted in surprise.

Zoe peered around her shoulder, keeping as much of Itzel between herself and Ipheara as physically possible. “Holy fuck. Careful,” she whispered while pointing toward the moth woman. “There’s a Moth lady right next to Robin.”

Ipheara’s antennae drooped. One pair of her hands clasped together while the other lowered awkwardly toward her stomach. She took a small step backward, clearly reading Zoe’s reaction exactly as Itzel had feared Zoe might react to her earlier.

Robin noticed immediately.

“Hey,” Robin murmured as they moved to Ipheara’s side and placed a warm hand against the smooth exoskeleton covering her upper arm. “Don’t take it personally. Zo’s just… not great with bugs.”

“Understatement,” Zoe muttered as she shivered behind Itzel as she continued peeking around the alien’s shoulder.

Ipheara glanced down at Robin’s hand. The simple warmth of it struck something unexpectedly tender in her. Quintino had done the same thing whenever she became overwhelmed back home. A hand against her arm, shoulder, or back, never forcing her to talk, simply reminding her that someone safe was nearby. Ipheara unconsciously leaned toward Robin before realizing what she was doing, her fluffy antennae lifting just slightly again.

Robin smiled at the response and gave her arm a gentle rub.

Zoe watched from her hiding place. Her fear didn’t exactly disappear, but curiosity began pushing against it. ‘Okay… that was kinda cute.’

She leaned farther around Itzel, then frowned. Ipheara’s profile looked oddly familiar. The fluffy hair. The four arms. The white exoskeleton. Those enormous eyes. Zoe squinted, then her visible blue eye went wide once again.

“Wait a fucking second!” Zoe shouted as she abruptly stepped out from behind Itzel and pointed at Ipheara. “You’re Ipheara!”

Ipheara startled so badly that both antennae shot upright.

Robin’s hand fell away as they blinked. “Yeah?”

Zoe looked between them incredulously. “Ipheara! The Moth Mommy from Starfall Town!”

Robin immediately winced, and Ipheara tilted her head. “Moth Mommy?”

Zoe threw both hands outward. “How the hell is Robin’s favorite waifu standing right fucking here?!”

Robin’s entire face flushed crimson. “Zo!”

Itzel slowly turned toward Zoe with the blankest expression she had managed all evening. “Seriously?”

Zoe looked at her. “What?”

“You have been transported against your will,” Itzel said as she counted off points on her long fingers. “The host is a shapeshifting supernatural entity. I have just revealed that I am literally an extraterrestrial. And that is the part that shocks you?”

Zoe shrugged. “But you’re Itzel.”

Itzel stared.

Zoe gestured toward her as if that explanation should have been sufficient. “And it kinda makes sense when you think about it.”

Itzel’s eyes narrowed to glowing orange slits. “What the fuck does that mean?”

A silky giggle interrupted them before Zoe could explain herself.

Jack stood several feet away with one hand resting against her hip, visibly delighted by the entire exchange. The crimson-haired host tipped her black fedora upward and allowed her slit-pupiled eyes to travel across the assembled group. “Oh, I do hope we get much more of this,” she purred as she dragged one end of her white boa between her fingers. “The producers adore chemistry, and you four are already proving considerably more entertaining than projections suggested.”

Zoe immediately pointed at her. “Hold on, I still have like twelve questions.”

“And I’m sure I shall ignore at least ten of them,” Jack replied as her smile widened.

Zoe lowered her hand. “You know what? I already hate you.”

Jack placed one hand over her heart and looked genuinely touched. “Wonderful. Strong feelings poll extremely well.”

With a graceful turn, the host shifted her attention toward an invisible camera hovering somewhere beyond the stage. Her entire posture changed immediately, becoming polished and theatrical as the white boa settled across her shoulders.

“And now, dear viewers,” Jack announced as she extended one manicured hand toward Zoe, “you have met tonight’s third curveball. Zoe Moretti: skater, pizzeria princess, hopeless romantic, and apparently enthusiastic xenophile.”

“Whoa, hey!” Zoe protested as she pointed at Jack. “That last one sounds way hornier. And I’m straight for the record!”

Jack ignored the interruption and continued addressing the unseen audience. “As always, the arrival of a new contestant means three new Transformation Paths are now open for suggestions. For our delightful Zoe, those paths shall be… Skater Girl, Pizza, and Romantic.”

“What the fuck does ‘Pizza’ mean?” Zoe demanded as she looked toward Jack. “Actually, back up. What the fuck is a transformation?”

Jack completely ignored the second question.

“The producers were particularly enthusiastic about the Pizza Path,” Jack explained as she clasped her hands behind her back and leisurely paced across the stage. “Audience members may suggest transformations inspired by different pizza styles. Such as Meat Lovers, or Hawaiian!”

Zoe blushed at the connotation of the first example. “First Mei and now you. What the fuck is people's obsession with me liking Meat Lovers!”

While the skater girl fumed, Ipheara whispered to Robin beside her, “What is Hawaiian Pizza?”

Robin chuckled. ‘Huh, of course they don’t have Hawaiian Pizza in Starfall…’

Jack sauntered toward the center of the marble platform as unseen lights shifted overhead. Her silhouette stretched dramatically across the floor, the green dress catching emerald highlights as she turned once more toward the invisible cameras.

“Three contestants have joined us,” Jack purred as she spread her arms. “Three delightful little disruptions to Robin Shepard’s previously ordinary existence. But a proper harem is hardly built from three women alone.”

Jack’s grin exposed just a hint too much tooth.

“So,” the host continued as another empty section of marble began glowing beside Zoe, “shall we see what our fourth contestant brings to the hotel?”

---

AN: Howdy Howdy! I hope y'all enjoy my addition to this fun story! As with the other contestants, the link below is available for y'all to suggest transformations according to the path you select for it. You can do this as many times as you want! So have fun :D

Submission Form: https://forms.gle/mo43AGahUxfyp6GV8