Unexpected Selfie

It was supposed to be a joke. Just a dumb comment at the wrong time. A bit too much ego, too little empathy. And then boom — punished.

Rafael had always been a bit full of himself. Thought he knew everything about women. Thought he could say anything without consequences. But whatever that old woman muttered under her breath at the market clearly wasn’t just a curse out of frustration — because he woke up the next morning in this body.

Long brown hair. Long legs. Long red nails.

At first, he panicked. He tripped trying to walk. Nearly poked his eye putting on mascara. Couldn't believe how tight some clothes were — until he accidentally found this outfit. A pinstriped skirt, matching top, and a belt that screamed attitude.

He stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the outfit. “If I’m gonna be stuck like this for a day or two, might as well get a feel for it,” he muttered. He picked up the phone, angled it just right, and snapped the selfie.

And then he paused.

There was something magnetic about the image. The way the light hit his hair, how confident the pose looked — lips just slightly parted, hand on hip. He didn’t recognize himself. Not just physically, but emotionally.

This wasn’t Rafael-the-guy-trying-to-cope. This was someone powerful. Commanding. He stared at the photo again, this time with curiosity instead of dread.

He felt... good.

Not because he liked the punishment. But because, somehow, this reflection was teaching him something no lecture ever could.

He bit his lip, smiled a little.

“Alright, lesson learned. But I’m keeping the selfie.”