All Your Fates (Currently editing/updating)

Chapter 16: Caution: Dangerous Curves Ahead ~ James Carter

MUSIC - Take Me On by A-Ha

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DAVID’S POV

The first thing I saw was my breasts.

I thought, “Did I just jump into my sleeping body? Am I dreaming? Is that possible? Do need to wake up from a strange dream?”

I raised myself up, sat on the edge of a bed, and looked around the room. Arriving is disorienting, and it takes me anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes to get my bearings. The room was covered in burgundy and black velvet embroidered wallpaper. I love textures, and, oddly, my first instinct was to touch the wallpaper, placing my face against the pattern’s grain.

Emma helped me put up this wallpaper. Giggling. Pizza. Cocktails. This is our apartment.

Memories of the host David rushed through my mind. She’s here. We’re close. How close? Lovers? Spouses?

Then, I remembered my breasts.

Shaking the memory, I pushed away from the wallpaper and glanced around the room: a door, a window, and a dresser with a large, oval mirror.

I rushed to the dresser, and in the mirror, stood a version of myself. Slightly curved hips. Long brown hair. And, without a doubt, hiding beneath a scarlet, silk night gown, were small mounds protruding from my chest.

I screamed. I’m not a screamer. I don’t know where it came from, but a rush of emotions enveloped my mind: confusion, terror, desperation. It took me over so quickly, I let out the longest, highest pitch scream I’d ever produced.

“Emma! Oh, god, Emma!”

Instinctually, I called for her. She had to be there. I could feel it. I rushed around the room, looking for anything that would give me a clue. On the dresser, I saw a framed picture. The two of us. In a bar, laughing. Best friends, out for a night on the town. I picked up the picture and stared long and hard at the image:

Celebrating my birthday. Not my birthday. My re-birthday. The day before my first hormone injections. I could feel them. Coursing through my veins. We celebrated the beginning of my transition.

Emma burst through the door.

“Davina! You all right? What’s going on, baby?”

She wore a black cocktail dress, lots of make-up, and had a tiny purse in hand.

“You are not even dressed! What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I…I…” I couldn’t put a sentence together.

“Get some clothes on before we’re late for work,” she said. “Here. Let me help.”

Emma opened up the closet and rifled through women’s wear that must be mine. She pulled out two dresses, a black mini and a purple full length. Unable to wrap my mushy mind around what was happening, I hazily pointed to the full length. I felt the need to cover myself.

Emma stood me up and instantly undressed me.

“I told you not to have that last drink,” she said. “But, no. You had to have that guy’s number. You peeped his fancy car, fancy suit, and all you saw were dollars. All you got? A helluva hangover. You all okay?”

I nodded.

She slipped the long, purple piece over my head. Tears streamed down my face.

“Stop the waterworks. We have to make you up. Can’t apply on a wet canvas.”

Emma dragged me to the dresser, began a base, followed quickly by eyeliner, mascara and blush. Magically, she transformed my furrowed face into rather pretty woman.