After Paige left you alone in the bathroom, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, aghast and shocked that this was your new life.
Your heart was racing.
Your mouth tasted dry.
You thought you were going to vomit because you were suffering your first anxiety attack ever in your life as you gazed upon the beautiful girl in the mirror, which you seemingly had no choice to accept was now you, at least for one month anyway, if Paige was being honest with you.
Magic and witches were real. It was so hard to believe.
“One step at a time” you slowly tell yourself, still coming to terms with this bizarre new reality.
It was only after your still present male gaze, taking a good long look at your new self, at your piercing blue eyes and flawlessly smooth skin, your deep cleavage and gorgeous legs, that you finally realized something.
“Holy shit, I've got to go to work!”
You rushed out of the bathroom, into your new bedroom.
**
You had showed up at the apartment with your stuff at 6:00 A.M because you had to be at work by 8:30 A.M. Paige apparently worked days at the sexy coffee shop, or whatever it was, so you both figured that if you didn't get along with one another, at least you wouldn't have to see each other too often. Going inside your new room, you searched for your work clothes, which you kept efficiently in the cardboard box marked “CLOTHES”, written hastily with a black Sharpie pen. You opened the box.
Throwing your clothing aside to and fro, you went “ugh” at realizing that your t-shirts, jerseys, jeans, and athletic wear had been replaced by feminine tops, blouses, leggings, and more skirts. All of them were colorful and relentlessly girly. When you reached the bottom of the box, and you sighed with relief, realizing that at least your uniform was still in tact...for the most part. You pulled it out.
Trying on your work clothes made you realize that they were now smaller and cut for a petite sized, busty woman such as yourself.
While changing, you were terrified that Paige would burst through the door at any moment and snap a picture or take a video, maybe show it too all of your friends and family. You were afraid that they would think you were transgender or something. You had nothing against transgender people, but you weren't one yourself, and you didn't want the social stigma associated with it.
Once you were finished getting dressed, you started to sniff.
“Is that bacon?” you asked in your new voice as you grabbed your bag and new purse, and went outside into the kitchen.
**
In the kitchen, Paige had laid out two plates with scrambled eggs, toast with jam, and two glasses of orange juice. She was wearing an apron, currently at the stove cooking something else up. You went on your tippy toes and took a little peek. Just as you suspected, strips of bacon were frying inside the pan.
You coughed to get her attention, and she turned around.
“Oh, hey! Feeling at home yet?” she said merrily, as if she had already forgotten about transforming you.
“Trying to buy me off with breakfast, huh?” you said dismissively.
“Well, you may look like a girl, but you're still a man deep down, and my mom always said that a way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Just don't get carried away and eat too much. You have a smaller body now which means you don't need to eat as much. I don't want to see someone with a perfect body like yours get all fat” teased the witch who just irrevocably changed your life.
“If this is your way of asking for forgiveness, I don't forgive you.”
Paige lowered the heat on the stove, put down her spatula and looked quite dejected.
“Oh” she said sadly. “Well, good luck at work, Ashley.”
“Bye” you said, leaving the apartment without even waiting for Paige's reaction.
**
You worked as a busboy at an upscale Mexican restaurant named Casa Hermana(Although if Paige was any indication, that may not be for very much longer). The reason you picked Paige as a potential roommate to begin with was because her apartment was so close to your job, it was located just three short blocks away in fact. You normally had to commute in by the subway to get to work, which girl or not, you're glad that you don't have to do anymore.
As you exited the apartment building, your arms folded, in a daze at what had happened to you, you barely noticed the random male pedestrians as they stopped to stare your backside.
“Dat ass, tho” said one of them loud enough for you to hear, but in your anger and frustration, you weren't paying attention.
You reached Casa Hermana in less than a minute and walked through the back entrance to put your belongings in your locker. You praised God when you realized that it was still your locker, and the combination was still your combination. With trepidation, you walked up to your manager Mr. Reta to officially clock in.
“Hey Ashley” said the middle aged Mexican man casually as you signed in for the day.
“Remember to tie your hair back” he said, not really paying attention to you, instead focused on his phone as he watched a football game.
“Sure thing, boss” you said dejectedly, still wincing at your chirpy voice.
“Crap” you thought. “Do I have any hair ties?”.
As if by magic(What else?), when you reached into your pocket, you found one, although it was pink. You tied your now long hair into a sensible ponytail.
You then grabbed a bus full of linens and utensils and went inside the restaurant proper to set up the tables.
When you were finished, you saw a couple of waitresses, Diane and June who had just clocked in to work wave politely at you, which you reciprocated. You entered the kitchen and waited for guests to arrive while you mostly just shot the shit with the kitchen staff.
Except for one of the cooks, Roscoe something or other, who you thought was a jerk anyway, you were the only white person who worked in the back, with most of the jobs mostly being filled by Latinos and a couple of black staff members. You didn't care. You got along with them just fine as a guy. What you were worried about was how you were going to treated now as a woman. You recalled the often vulgar but hilarious sex stories you all traded back and forth with one another.