You wake up to the sound of the phone ringing. Your head is pounding, like after a night of heavy drinking. Your eyes open slightly, annoyed that whoever's calling you woke you up. The details of last night are hazy at best. You must've gotten completely wasted.
The phone finally stops ringing and you stuff your face into your pillow, trying to block out the bright sunlight that's streaming into the room. The sun can be so inconsiderate sometimes.
You feel yourself drifting back to sleep when the phone rings again. It seems even louder this time around. Annoyed, you feel your way toward the phone on your nightstand, grabbing it and putting it to your ear without opening your eyes. Something feels a bit off, which you chalk up to the hangover. You're about to curse out whoever's calling you, but they start talking before you get the chance to open your mouth.
"Good morning, Holly."
"I think you have the-" you begin to say, before realizing your voice sounds completely different. All of a sudden you sit bolt upright, and take in about twenty different changes at once. This isn't your bed, or your room. That straight, black hair in the periphery of your vision certainly isn't yours, either, unless you were asleep for months and it grew during that time. Squinting, you see the skyline of Manhattan out your window, across what must be the East River.
"It's a lot to get used to, isn't it? Don't worry, we can supply you with the most vital information. Your name is Holly Chau, you're a dancer currently with a company called the Manhattan Wind. Which reminds me, you were supposed to be there a half hour ago! You better get ready quickly, Holly, you're all the way in Brooklyn at the moment!"
Carol abruptly hangs up the phone, leaving you stammering and unsure what to do. Looking at the phone, you see a bunch of texts from people who must be in the dance company asking you where the hell you are.
"Fuck fuck fuck," you say in your new soft, petite voice. It sounds oddly adorable coming out of your new mouth.
You stumble around the small apartment, looking for the bathroom, which doesn't take long. In the mirror you see your new self.
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/4877962033...
You are now a petite Asian woman. It's a shocking departure from your old body; you seem to be only about 5 feet tall now. You examine your thin arms and legs, turning around in front of the mirror to catch a look at your small breasts and behind. You're somewhat disappointed; in your old life, you had been a fan of a more voluptuous figure.
You spend some time just making faces in the mirror, until Holly's phone dings again with even more messages telling you to get the hell to the studio.
You know nothing about dancing, but you know it would also be disastrous to lose Holly's... er, your job. New York City rent is expensive, and who knows how you'd find a new job in this unfamiliar body.
What do you do?
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