Ruined plans

"Dylan, what are you doing wearing that… or better yet, wearing only that?" Dylan’s voice echoed down the hallway, filled with disbelief as he caught sight of the figure standing in the middle of the living room.

In front of him stood Mike—or rather, Marcela’s body now inhabited by Mike—dressed in delicate white lace lingerie, complete with garter belt and stockings that hugged her legs with near-theatrical precision. The look was seductive, almost cinematic, and completely at odds with the strange new reality they were living.

"This is what Marcela was wearing underneath her wedding dress," Mike replied casually, adjusting one of the bra straps while admiring his reflection in the window. "Weren’t we supposed to go on with the ceremony even after that weird thing happened before the wedding? The whole body-swap thing... that was surreal."

He turned to Dylan with a half-resigned, half-playful smile. "Poor Marcela didn’t even land in my body. She ended up in Aunt Hilda’s. Poor thing."

Dylan covered his eyes with his hand and turned away. "You didn’t have to be parading around the house in just that! Go put something on! This is getting... weird."

"Why cover your eyes, Dylan?" Mike shot back casually, strolling slowly over to the couch and flopping down with a satisfied sigh. "You’ve seen Marcela like this countless times, I’m sure. But honestly, I never imagined she had all this going on under those modest outfits she always wore. But hey—it’s her wedding day. She wanted to look perfect for her groom." He ran a hand along his hip, still impressed with the body he now inhabited. "And she nailed it."

Dylan took a deep breath, struggling to keep his composure. "Alright. Just put on something less... eye-catching. The wedding happened, I guess. Now we just have to figure out how long we’ve got until we can swap back."

A heavy silence settled between them. Neither dared to say what they were beginning to suspect: what if they never could go back?

What they didn’t know—what they would only learn days later—was that the cosmic event that had scrambled their minds and bodies had no reversal. There would be no “swap back.” The universe, in its chaotic sense of irony, had locked them into this new reality for good.

Mike, now in Marcela’s young and attractive body, was legally married to Dylan—who still lived in his original body. But the mind behind that stunning frame was no longer the woman Dylan had fallen in love with. It was his best friend, now trapped in curves that even he couldn’t help but admire.

But Mike would soon make a decision. He didn’t want to live as a replacement, or maintain a marriage that was never his to begin with. He wanted a new chance, a new life—in Marcela’s place.

And for that, he would soon file for divorce.