Old memories
ending... if anything, comment on what you want as a continuation.
Marcos and James had been inseparable friends since the days when arcades were still all the rage. While Marcos grew up surrounded by luxury, with a loving mother and an absent father due to constant travel, James lived a simple life, working small jobs and without great ambitions. Even when arcades lost their popularity, Marcos insisted on keeping their friendship alive, inviting James to play on his sophisticated, state-of-the-art consoles.
The bond between the two was so strong that, despite their class differences, nothing seemed to shake their friendship. After the tragic death of Marcos' mother, he became increasingly isolated in his mansion, and James became his constant companion, even though life for him was very different. James worked as a security guard at a local store, close to his home, living a simple routine, without great luxuries.
One day, after another shift as a security guard, James stopped by Marcos' house. As usual, the two enjoyed a night of games and drinks. Between one drink and another, they started playing soccer on the video game. Driven by adrenaline and alcohol, they made an unusual bet: the loser would have to clean Marcos' house, which was a mess, like a real "housewife". James, always confident, doubled the bet. "If you lose, you'll have to do it in a complete way... dress appropriately, like a real housewife", he joked, believing that he would easily win, since he had always been better at soccer games than Marcos.
Marcos, who still had his mother's wardrobe intact, a woman of extreme taste and elegance, accepted the bet. At that moment, nothing seemed too serious, it was just fun among friends. However, against all James' expectations, the final score was 2 x 1 for Marcos.
James, stunned and shocked at having lost, tried to laugh at the situation, but, inside, he felt the weight of the promise he had made. He was an athletic young man with fine features and a slender body who was often mistaken for a woman from behind, especially when he wore his “rocker” style clothes and let his long brown hair down. The challenge of dressing like a “housewife” seemed unrealistic, but in the intoxication of the moment and under the pressure of honoring his word, James accepted.
After the defeat, and still under the "disinhibiting" effect of the drinks, James, without hesitation, declared that he would honor the commitment. Since his mother's death, Marcos had closed her room, leaving it practically untouched. When his father was away on business trips, Marcos preferred to occupy simpler rooms, avoiding that space full of memories. But, that night, the bizarre bet took them there.
When they opened the door, the room seemed frozen in time. The heavy curtains, the expensive perfumes on the dressing table, the delicately arranged jewelry and carefully hung dresses, everything reminded of the presence of an elegant woman who had left an indelible mark on that place. James, standing in the doorway, looked at Marcos, raising an eyebrow in a mixture of curiosity and discomfort. "What now?" he asked, unsure of what to do.
Marcos, still laughing at the situation and trying to keep the mood light, replied with a mischievous smile: "You are free to choose, within the possibilities... it's really something to laugh about, isn't it?" Having known James forever, Marcos knew that he would never do anything to disrespect his mother's legacy or anything else that could harm their friendship. Still laughing, he went downstairs and, before disappearing from James's field of vision, shouted over his shoulder: "Madam, make yourself at home! But don't be long, my father will be back tomorrow from a long trip, and the house has to be spotless! And don't forget my snack!".
James, alone in his room, looked around, now with a smile on the corner of his mouth. He was the youngest of three sisters and, over the years, he had often watched his sisters putting on makeup, choosing clothes and getting ready with dedication. The sight of that room took him back to his childhood, when he would spy on his sisters getting ready for parties and events. Those memories came back with photographic clarity, and he decided to take a chance, thinking: "It will just be to get a sincere laugh from Marcos, nothing more."
With a mix of playfulness and curiosity, James went to the closet and began to choose what to wear. As he ran his fingers through the fine fabrics, he almost laughed at himself. He knew he was thin and had a figure that, depending on the clothes, made him go unnoticed, almost like a woman. The game now was to embody, even if only for fun, the "madam" that Marcos had joked he would be. James picked out an elegant dress, something that would certainly draw attention, but that didn't seem too extravagant for the situation. He then decided to go even further: he pulled a chair up to the dressing table, examined the jewelry and accessories, and, remembering everything his sisters did, began to improvise. A discreet lipstick, a touch of perfume, and he was already involved in that game, as if he were a new character to be played. As he did this, something curious took hold of him. Although the bet was just for a quick and comical cleaning, there was a strange satisfaction in seeing how he could reproduce the feminine gestures he had observed so much. The transformation was a surprise even to him, and the lightness of the situation, mixed with nostalgia, made him surrender to the moment.
With everything ready, James went down the stairs. With each step, the sound of his heels echoed through the mansion, increasing his anticipation of how Marcos would react.
Marcos's heart skipped a beat. Maybe it was the sweet smell of the perfume, which filled the air with a soft memory, or maybe the sight of James wearing those clothes, which seemed to have been tailor-made for him. Even with his clumsy walk, something about James awakened an affectionate memory in Marcos, a mixed feeling of nostalgia and surprise that he could not explain.
As he went down the stairs, James looked at Marcos, who was leaning against the wall, astonished. With a mischievous smile and an attempt to tune his voice, James said: “Son, you already know that you won't be playing until late,” imitating one of the classic phrases that Marcos's mother always repeated when they played together as children. The phrase echoed like a ghost in the air, awakening a wave of emotions in Marcos. For a second, he did not know whether to laugh or cry. It was as if his mother was back, present in a strange and unexpected way.
Marcos, however, chose laughter. He let out a laugh, a mixture of relief and amusement. The atmosphere that had previously been just playful now became something deeper. James, unaware of the impact he was having on his friend, continued to organize the house as part of the bet. With each gesture, with each clumsy movement, the environment seemed to transform.
After a few hours of work, the mansion was finally spotless, and James, still wearing Marcos' mother's clothes, realized that he had fulfilled the bet. The house was shining, the furniture was tidy and the floor was spotless. Marcos, on the other hand, was already exhausted and was stretched out on the couch, asleep, with a serene expression, as if the memories of that day had calmed him down.
James, with a satisfied smile on his face, made one last check in the living room, then went to the kitchen to finish putting away the utensils and organizing the snacks they had prepared. He had enjoyed himself more than he had expected and, deep down, he was happy to have managed to get genuine laughter from Marcos, something he hadn’t seen in a long time. With the dishes put away and everything in order, he was ready to say goodbye to this unusual evening and return to normal.
But then, as he finished drying his hands on a towel, he heard the sound of a door opening. Marcos’ father, who had managed to move his flight forward, had just arrived. The silence of the house was interrupted by the echo of his shoes on the marble floor. James, still dressed in Marcos’ mother’s elegant clothes, turned around, and his eyes met those of his friend’s father.
For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Marcos’ father, a serious man with an imposing presence, looked at James with surprise and confusion. The feminine silhouette, the sweet perfume that still hung in the air, the jewelry and ornaments that shone under the dim light of the kitchen... everything indicated that he was in front of a woman.
“Excuse me... who are you?” he asked, disconcerted. His look was not one of anger, but of curiosity mixed with shock. He clearly did not expect to find a female figure at that time of night, especially in his own home.
James froze for a second. He realized the gravity of the situation and felt his heart race in his chest. Not knowing how to react, he gave a half smile, still trying to process everything.
“I... I'm just... a friend,” he replied, improvising, his voice coming out softer than he expected, trying to maintain his composure. Marcos' father continued to watch, increasingly intrigued, without realizing that this "female figure" was, in fact, his son's best friend.
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