You're a 17-year-old boy. Or rather… you were. At school, your name was always accompanied by nervous laughter and awkward silences. Bully. Bossy. Hallway boss. You and your friends lived breaking rules, ignoring warnings, accumulating low grades, and with the arrogant certainty that nothing—absolutely nothing—could affect you. You liked it. The fear in people's eyes. Especially in the eyes of one girl in particular. The quiet nerd. The one you provoked without a second thought.

Today, you wake up very sleepy. Something is wrong. Your room is organized. Clean. Everything in its place. This immediately bothers you—you've never been like this. When you try to stretch, your voice comes out different. Thinner. Softer. Feminine.

You sit up in bed and feel the weight of your own body in a strange way. Your torso is more delicate. Your shoulders, narrow. The fabric of the long, tight black shirt and underwear accentuated curves that didn't exist before, clearly defining a feminine body. Her hair falls over her shoulders, long, straight, black as night.

Next to the bed, on the nightstand, are a pair of glasses. Further on, an organized computer, carefully stacked books, colorful notes. Everything matches the view from the window: a spacious, modern, and silent apartment, with the city stretching out outside.

You are no longer strong. You are… her. The nerdy girl. The same one you used to mock. The same one you belittled every day. Before you can process this, the bedroom door opens gently. A woman enters calmly, with a gentle smile on her face.

Milena: "Good morning, dear. You're already awake? Breakfast is almost ready… don't forget you have a test today, okay? I know you'll do well, as always."