Bob Smith prided himself on logic. As a lawyer, the world made sense through precedent, facts, and solid arguments. Nothing happened without cause.
Which is why, when his entire reality changed overnight, he had absolutely no explanation for it.
One evening, he had been in his office, working late on a case. A simple insurance dispute, nothing special. He took a sip of his bitter coffee, glanced at his phone, and noticed a missed call from a number he didn’t recognize.
He ignored it.
Then another call.
And another.
Annoyed, he finally answered.
"Hello?"
A chilling, echoing voice replied, "Hello, sister."
Bob frowned. “What? Who is this?”
But the moment he spoke, his surroundings melted like wet paint, colors swirling, lines distorting—until suddenly…
Everything snapped into place.
Bob woke up to the sound of a camera clicking.
He blinked.
Another flash.
“Looking perfect, Mei! Oh my God, your hair is stunning in this light!”
His brain was still groggy, his body felt off—too light, too smooth, too… tiny.
A woman was standing in front of him, holding a phone, snapping pictures of his face.
But it wasn’t his face.
It was her face.
Bob’s heart pounded as he looked around. He was in a dimly lit club bathroom, surrounded by young women touching up their makeup, fixing their outfits, and chatting about their next drink.
His body moved on its own, stepping toward the mirror.
Staring back at him was a gorgeous East Asian woman with striking red hair, soft almond-shaped eyes, and a delicate, feminine frame.
No. No. No.
This wasn’t right.
And yet… it was.
Somewhere deep in his mind, he KNEW he was Mei.
He could feel the memories rising up like waves, overwhelming the hard, logical core of Bob Smith.
She was Mei, a senior at university, an Art major, a sister of Chi Mu Nu, and a damn good flirt when she wanted to be.
Bob tried to scream. But when the sound left his lips, it was soft, feminine, and laced with amusement.
The reality was unshakable.
Bob—no, Mei—knew how to do a perfect winged eyeliner.
She knew which mini dress made her look best for a night out.
She knew which girls on campus were secretly into her and which ones weren’t.
And when she opened her phone, there were no traces of Bob Smith.
Only Mei.
The lawyer's instincts in her screamed to find proof of her past, but there was none.
Her email? Full of sorority event invites.
Her text messages? Flirty exchanges with a girl named Hannah—her on-again, off-again crush.
Her bank account? Exactly what a broke college student would have.
Bob Smith, the respectable lawyer, was gone.
And Mei, the mysterious, gorgeous Art major, was all that remained.
Mei couldn’t explain why she was so calm.
She should have been panicking, screaming, demanding answers.
But instead?
She was on a date.
Sitting at a rooftop bar, a cocktail in hand, opposite Hannah—her crush.
Hannah was smiling, twirling her straw, her dark curls falling over one shoulder. “So, tell me, Mei, why do you always play so hard to get?”
Mei smirked without even thinking. “Maybe I just like the chase.”
Who was she?
Why did this feel natural?
Hannah laughed. “You’re impossible. But I kinda love that about you.”
Mei felt something warm in her chest.
Bob had never felt like this.
Like flirting came effortlessly, like love could be light and fun, like being with a woman wasn’t something he had to “win” but something that just… felt right.
And as Hannah reached across the table to take her hand, Mei felt herself sink deeper into this new life.
Because maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t new at all.