I Want a Yacht Too!

Well. Tell me, you damn electric box, when the fuck is all this shit happening in this world finally gonna end? Though really, what could this useless hunk of metal tell me, besides another detergent ad or some dumb-ass TV show about rich carefree idiots… Screw the news. Not today, Mr. President. Today it’s just you and me, a bottle of dark, foamy Guinness. Oh yeah, baby!

(sip, sip, sip… burp, leans back in the chair)

God… I’m so fucking tired. All day this construction site, those stupid faces of my coworkers… And that dude on the screen looks exactly like our Patty, the vampire guy. I’m telling you, the same damn face! Though I still don’t get why the hell he got that nickname. What’s that crap called again?... Twilight? Huh, whatever, what’s next…

(clicking the remote)

On the screen again — those shiny idiots with their perfect white teeth. One of them just gave his girlfriend a yacht. A yacht! They’ve completely lost their fucking minds! You… you… God, what the hell am I even talking about? Here I am, sitting in my filthy chair that smells like sweat, cement, and cheap deodorant, arguing with the TV. Brilliant, Mike. Just brilliant.

(sip. another one. the bottle’s empty)

— I hate all of you so damn much, — I exhale, tossing the remote somewhere under the couch. — All those shiny bastards with white teeth and empty heads. He gave her a yacht! A fucking yacht! What the hell?! Hey, universe or whoever’s up there! I want a yacht too!

(sip. the last one. the bottle hits the floor with a dull thud. everything blurs)

— Well, there… drunk again… — I mumble, feeling my eyelids getting heavy. — Fuck you all…

The world melted, like warm beer from the fifth bottle of the night, and I didn’t even fight it, knowing that any second now I’d pass out right here, in my filthy chair, eyes staring blankly at the TV, where some idiots in tuxedos were drinking champagne on a deck.

(thud. IMPACT on my shoulder)

— AAH! — I scream, clutching my shoulder, feeling that sharp, burning pain — like my skin had just been zapped by electricity. But why the hell did I just yelp like some chick? And where the hell is my shirt… what the…

I open my eyes and instantly squint from the sunlight.

The sun? Where the hell is the ceiling of my apartment? Where’s that stinking couch? Why am I…

— Sorry! — a male voice calls out nearby, with a light southern accent. — Hey, May, are you okay?

May?..

I turn toward the voice and see a young guy standing over me in swim trunks. Tanned, damn it, fit and muscular — and I feel this weird, ticklish sensation inside my body as I look at him. Like everything inside me suddenly… got warm? Or, fuck, tightened somewhere deep in my stomach.

He leans closer, and the sunlight slides over his skin like it’s teasing me.

— May, are you sure you’re okay? — he asks, leaning in so close I can smell salt and something like coconut cream.

May. He said it again.

— Uh… yeah… I… I guess… — the words come out weirdly soft and kind of… gentle. That voice… it’s not mine. It’s too high, too clear.

I grab my throat instinctively and realize there’s no trace of stubble, and my neck feels… smaller. I look at my fingers — they’re thin, with pink nails. God, what the hell is this?

— Alright, I’ll go then, sorry again! — the guy pulls my attention back for a moment, and as I turn my head, I feel something slide over my shoulders and back — and I realize almost instantly. Hair! Long, damn it, soft, warm hair flowing down my skin. I jerk my head, trying to shake it off, but it only tickles my neck and gets in my eyes.

— What the… — I breathe out, but the voice again sounds like I’m trying to seduce someone with just a word. — What the fuck?

I try to sit up, dropping my hand to my leg — that flawless, smooth skin — when I suddenly freeze, because I see something that makes everything inside me clench tight, like all the air’s been sucked out.

My body. It… it’s not mine!

I gasp sharply, heart pounding like it’s trying to break out of my chest… chest. Wait— do I actually have breasts now?! Tits! Boobs! They’re real. I can feel them — the weight, even that damn fabric holding them up. Soft, alive, heavy — they bounce slightly with my breathing as I sit up too fast. I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it. This can’t be real.

— Oh, fuck… — slips out of me as I look down, already knowing there’s not gonna be anything male down there.

But my eyes catch on my stomach. Instead of my beer belly, there’s now this flat, tanned stomach with a tiny silver belly piercing glinting in the sunlight. The skin’s smooth, warm, and lower down… a swimsuit — and under it…

(my hand reaches between my legs)

— Hey, May! — the same familiar voice calls again. — Don’t fall asleep there!

I turn around, yanking my hand back like a damn criminal caught in the act. It’s that same guy — now waving at me from the edge of the pool. His hair’s wet, water dripping down his neck, and that smile… fuck, that smile looks straight out of one of those dumb shows I was just cursing at — but damn, it suits him. White teeth, confidence oozing out of him.

— I’m not asleep… — I answer automatically, though my brain’s screaming: YOU ARE ASLEEP! THIS ISN’T REAL!

The words leave my mouth, and with them I feel my breasts slightly bounce, moving on their own like they’ve got a life of their own. I swallow hard and turn the other way — and then I see her. A girl sitting on a lounge chair, staring right at me. She’s looking at me like… Shit! That’s my reflection!

Long dark hair, messy and shining in the sunlight. A cute face, almost perfectly shaped, with big eyes and thin lips that naturally curve into a soft, almost silly smile. I raise my hand — she does the same. Tilt my head — feel my hair shift again — and she mirrors me exactly. That’s me. That’s really me…

— No… no-no-no… — I whisper, grabbing my head. — This is a dream. Just a fucking dream.

— What? — the guy steps closer. — You okay? You look kinda pale, May.

He sits down beside me, and I hear the soft splash of water against the pool’s edge — then feel his hand on my shoulder. Warm, steady. Too steady. Like he’s…

— I just… — I start, not even knowing what to say, and feel him lean a little closer. His breath brushes against my cheek. Dude, seriously… just calm me down and— God! What the hell are these thoughts?!

— Listen, if you want, we can go inside, — he says, sliding his arm around my shoulders, and I feel his hand move a bit lower than it probably should. — There’s shade, AC… By the way, did you decide on a name for her?

— A name?.. — I repeat automatically, not fully understanding what the hell he’s even talking about.

He smirked, running his finger along my arm — too casually, too easily — but that single touch sent goosebumps crawling over my skin.

— Well, the yacht, of course. You said you wanted to give it a “special” name, remember?

I jerk my head toward him, eyes wide in shock — and then freeze, realizing his face is closer to mine than any man’s ever been in my life, except maybe during some drunk night or a family hug. Though even then… it never felt this… intimate.

— Yeah? — he said with a smile, pulling me a little closer. I could hear my heartbeat — too fast, too loud. It thumped somewhere inside my chest. In this soft, unfamiliar chest, where my breasts trembled with every breath I took.

— Hey… you’re shaking, — he said quietly, his voice soft, almost caring.

— Just… the sun, — I managed to say, though the sun had nothing to do with it. Everything inside me screamed: Get off me! I’m not some girl! I’m a man! This is all fucked up! And you, you rich fucking prick — I hate you!

But my body wouldn’t listen. It was like it had its own will — craving warmth, that steady shoulder — and before I even realized it, my head had already rested against his chest.

He smelled like the sea, salt, his skin, and a faintly sweet lotion... And at that moment, everything suddenly felt too real. The sunlight. The breathing. The warmth.

He ran his hand gently through my hair, and I closed my eyes. Just for a second. Just to make all this madness stop spinning.

— It’s okay, I’m here, my girl, — he whispered.

And I… didn’t answer. I just pressed my face deeper into his shoulder, feeling something inside me tearing apart beneath the skin.

One part of me still screamed, begging to take it all back — this body, this voice, this fragile weakness that wasn’t mine.

And the other — stayed silent. Quiet, tired, and craving comfort. The part that just wanted someone to hold her like this.