The Lobby Swap

"See, Ben?" he said, lifting the fabric slightly. "Not as short as it looked. Plenty of coverage. Got it?"

Ben leaned against the cool marble wall, arms crossed. His eyes darted between his friend—now trapped in a stranger’s body—and the elevator doors. "Not convinced," he muttered. "And you’re enjoying this way too much for someone who got body-swapped by cosmic accident."

Alex laughed softly, spinning to make the skirt flare. "Look on the bright side: I could’ve woken up in a sixty-year-old or someone in Siberia. Instead? I’m Lily—twenty-two, five-foot-five, and kinda cute if I say so myself." His tone mixed irony with fascination. "As for my old body... when I woke up alone in her apartment, I figured we’d stake out the lobby. If the real owner’s out there, she knows this address. She’ll call. Or show up. Or—"

"—Or she’s in China drinking tea with your meat suit," Ben finished, rubbing his neck. "But why camp here? And for god’s sake, stop clutching the skirt. You look like a Hitchcock heroine."

Alex slowly released the fabric, but his eyes kept their playful glint. "Social experiment, my friend. If this swap’s permanent..." He took a deliberate step forward, posture shifting fluidly. "...will I be wanted like this? A woman’s body changes everything—how people see you, treat you—"

The elevator ding cut him off. Doors slid open, revealing a jarringly familiar figure: Alex’s original body moving with unfamiliar grace. On his—her—lips hovered a smile of recognition.

"No way," Ben breathed, yanking Alex back. "That’s you. Or... her."

Alex froze, fingers instinctively brushing the skirt’s hem again. The world narrowed to that suspended moment—between the body he’d lost and the one he now wore. The seduction test was forgotten. Truth stood three steps away, dressed in his clothes and wearing his face.