So Boring

Dylan switched channels irritably, his fingers gripping the remote with nervous energy. "Where's all the normal stuff?" he muttered under his breath, flipping through sports, action movies, and car shows. Everything that had once excited him now filled him with frustration and a strange discomfort. He tossed the remote onto the couch beside him and covered his face with his hands. "What's wrong with my tastes?!"

Ever since he woke up in this new body, with these slender hands, soft hair, and... damn it, breasts, his world had turned upside down. Everything that had been important suddenly felt distant and foreign. He hated this feeling. But what he hated even more was how his body now reacted strangely to things he had never given a second thought to before.

Dylan lazily stopped on some fashion show, not even knowing why. The girls on the screen were discussing clothing trends, laughing, exchanging jokes about the latest collections. "Boring!" He reached for the remote to change the channel, but his fingers froze. Something about the show caught his attention. He felt a strange thrill run down his spine. "Maybe it's just curiosity?" he tried to justify to himself, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen.

Then suddenly, a guy appeared on the screen—tanned, athletic, in a tight shirt, showing off new sportswear. Dylan’s heart skipped a beat. He felt heat rise to his cheeks and let out a surprised yelp. "What the hell?" His body suddenly reacted in a way he had never experienced before.

"No, no, no, this can't be real!" In a panic, Dylan switched to another channel but stumbled onto yet another moment that made his body tremble. It was just a normal boxing match, something familiar. But now... he couldn’t help but notice how the fighters' muscles moved, how the sweat gleamed under the lights.

"Shit, shit!" He flipped back to the fashion show. The girls were still laughing and chatting about their outfits, which suddenly drew Dylan’s attention, making him freeze. His eyes traced the details of their dresses, studying every fold, every line. "What the hell?" he whispered, feeling panic rising in his throat. It wasn’t just the strange attraction to the outfits—it was also how his body reacted to the guys in the previous scenes that unsettled him.

"This... isn’t normal," Dylan tossed the remote again as if it were responsible for all his problems. He tried to focus on his thoughts. "You’re just tired, overloaded. It’s temporary," he told himself, but the attempt to calm down sounded unconvincing, especially after what had just happened. The memory of that tanned guy in the tight shirt hit him again with renewed force, and he involuntarily shook his head, trying to push the image away.

But the warmth and strange excitement wouldn’t leave. Some new, unfamiliar interest in men had awakened inside him, and with each passing thought, the feeling grew stronger. "No, this can’t be real," he grabbed the remote again, but his fingers were trembling. Fear of this new reality pierced him.

He switched back to the fashion show, thinking it might at least distract him. The girls on screen were once again discussing the latest trends, laughing cheerfully, showing off dresses and accessories. But now Dylan noticed more than before: how the colors complemented their skin, how the fabric accentuated their figures. His eyes slid over the vibrant patterns, and his thoughts drifted to how he might look in such an outfit.

"Oh God, that’s Christian Dior," the words slipped out of his mouth before he realized it, and he fell silent, stunned by what he had just said. He had never cared about fashion brands, and now he was recognizing collections on the fly? "What is wrong with me?" he thought in panic, feeling everything inside him turn upside down.

The whole day had been strange. The morning had started like a blur. Dylan had woken up and immediately felt something was off. His body was too light, his movements unfamiliar, and the feeling of soft skin... Looking down, he had nearly screamed. Instead of his broad chest and usual arms, he saw slender wrists, a slim body, and... a chest that was now rising and falling with panicked breaths. Somehow, his body was female!

He had tried to find an explanation, but no logical thoughts came to mind. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he saw a slender girl with long chestnut hair, with a chest that looked unreal.

"This is just a dream. Damn curse!" he told himself, squeezing his eyes shut in desperation, yet still listening to that stupid, empty fashion talk, which for some reason didn’t seem so empty anymore.