Irreversible Changes

Michael was stunned.

It felt like he was walking in circles inside his own mind, trying to stitch together the shattered pieces of his reality.
Darla, now officially his ex-girlfriend, had just walked out the door, leaving behind not only her final suitcases but also a trail of confusion, resentment — and something far stranger than he could have ever anticipated.

Heart pounding out of rhythm, Michael dragged himself down the hallway, stopping in front of the closed bedroom door.
He hesitated for a second, hearing muffled sounds of movement from inside, then knocked lightly with his knuckles.

"Are you okay in there, Raul?" he asked, his voice tight.

"I'm fine. You can come in," came the calm reply.

Michael turned the doorknob and pushed the door open... and felt his world tilt violently once again.

Sitting on the edge of the bed was Raul — or at least, what Raul had become — staring back at him with a sheepish smile.
His friend's body, once tall and muscular, now flaunted feminine curves, wrapped in a delicate white lace lingerie set.

Michael blinked several times, as if that could erase what he was seeing.

"What... what are you wearing?!" he blurted. "I told you Darla left some clothes here, but you picked that?!"

Raul — or this new version of him — shrugged awkwardly, adjusting the thin straps of the lingerie.

"Don't blame me, man. I... I can't even explain it," he said, his voice now naturally soft and feminine. "It was like... like a voice in my head guided me. I just walked to her bag and... picked this."

Michael shook his head, trying to order his thoughts.
How the hell had they gotten to this point?

His mind drifted back to the week before.
After yet another heated argument with Darla, Michael had vented to Raul. He had repeated, for the hundredth time, that Darla was controlling, manipulative, that he felt suffocated by her.
Raul had, as always, supported him — maybe a little too eagerly.

What Michael didn’t realize at the time was how much Raul secretly despised Darla.
So when Michael finally came home and ended his long-term relationship, he believed it was entirely his own decision.

Then came the day of the move. Raul showed up — a little too early, a little too excited.
And as Darla placed the last bag into her car, Raul couldn’t resist:

"Good riddance!" he called out loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

Darla froze.
Her back stiffened like a steel rod. Slowly, she turned around, her face calm, her smile sharp enough to cut glass.

"If you want him so badly," she said in a sweet, venomous tone, "he’s all yours."

What happened next, Michael would never forget.

Raul screamed, doubling over in agony.
Bones cracked and popped, his skin reshaping itself, muscles unraveling and reforming under his flesh like molten wax being remolded.
Within minutes, the tall, sturdy man had transformed into a breathtaking woman — young, with flowing black hair, large deep brown eyes, full lips, and an hourglass figure that looked almost too perfect to be real.

Michael, frozen in place, could only watch.
It was Raul who, after recovering from the blinding pain and shock, suggested he needed new clothes.
Now, seeing him — her — dressed in Darla's most intimate lingerie, Michael felt the last remnants of his sanity slipping away.

"Dude, take that off!" Michael shouted, waving his arms in disbelief. "You... you even put on makeup? How the hell did you get that good at it?!"

Raul laughed nervously, brushing a perfectly manicured hand against his blushing cheek.
The eyeliner, lipstick, blush — all of it flawless.

"Oh, my beautiful," Raul cooed with a wink, "my hands just... knew what to do. I didn’t even think about it. I just did it."

Michael staggered back, horrified.

"Beautiful? You called me beautiful? What the hell, man?! What's happening to you?!"

Raul's — or rather, her — face twisted in genuine panic.

"I... I can't address you any other way!" she cried out. "Every time I try, my mind just switches it to... beautiful, darling, my life, my dream..."
She covered her mouth, wide-eyed. "I swear, I'm trying!"

Michael rubbed his temples, feeling the pressure build behind his skull.
Whatever Darla had done, it wasn’t just physical.
It was inside Raul's mind, his instincts, his emotions.

"We have to fix this," Michael said firmly. "I tried calling Darla, but her phone's off. Maybe... maybe we can still talk to her, settle this like adults. I don't know... apologize, make a deal."

Raul crossed her arms, her expression a mix of fear and sadness.

"And what if she doesn't want to undo it?" she whispered.

Michael stayed silent.
Deep down, he already knew the answer.

He could still see Darla's triumphant, cold smile burned into his mind.
She hadn't cast that spell in a moment of blind rage.
She had planned this.

And she had no intention of undoing it.