CHAPTER 1

Pretty Girls Have It Easy

Derek Vale had always believed there were two kinds of people in the world.

People who worked hard for their success.

And people who got paid to look pretty.

Naturally, he considered himself part of the first group.

At thirty, Derek was reasonably successful as a fitness and lifestyle influencer. He had spent years developing his muscular physique, building his social-media following, and cultivating the kind of aggressive, unapologetic personality that attracted attention online.

He wasn't particularly tall, standing at five feet ten, but his broad shoulders, muscular arms, and carefully maintained beard gave him a masculine appearance he took enormous pride in.

His short, dark-brown hair was always styled upward. He rarely went anywhere without his favourite black fitted T-shirt, dark jeans, and expensive silver wristwatch.

Derek liked looking at himself in the mirror.

He liked his muscles.

He liked his beard.

And he especially liked that nobody would ever mistake him for anything other than a traditionally masculine man.

Unfortunately, his confidence had gradually developed into arrogance.

That afternoon, Derek sat in front of his camera, recording another controversial video for his followers.

On the monitor behind him was an advertisement featuring several beautiful women modeling luxurious evening gowns.

He laughed dismissively.

"Seriously, how hard is modeling?" he asked, leaning toward his microphone. "Put on a pretty dress, smile at the camera, and collect your money."

He shook his head.

"Half these influencers wouldn't survive a week doing a real job."

His followers loved this kind of content.

Derek knew exactly how to provoke them.

He enlarged a photograph of a woman posing beside a handsome male model.

"Look at this," he continued. "She's literally standing there while some guy holds her waist. That's the job!"

He laughed.

"Give me makeup, a wig, and a dress. I could do their jobs better than they can."

He leaned back in his chair, folding his muscular arms.

"Looking pretty isn't exactly a talent."

That'll get people talking.

Derek smiled to himself.

He had learned that controversy was incredibly profitable.

The angrier people became, the more they shared his videos.

And the more they shared his videos, the more money he earned.

He finished recording and began browsing social media.

That was when he came across a familiar name.

ELLIOT HAYES — AWARD-WINNING BRIDAL DESIGNER UNVEILS NEW COLLECTION.

Derek stopped scrolling.

"Elliot Hayes?"

He opened the article.

A slender, fashionable man stood beside an enormous ivory wedding gown. He had neatly styled ash-brown hair, an expensive shirt, and the confident expression of someone who had become very successful.

Derek recognized him immediately.

A cruel grin spread across his face.

"Well, look who made it big."

He laughed.

"Little Princess Elliot."

The nickname brought back memories.

Fourteen years earlier, Derek and Elliot had attended the same high school.

Elliot had been quiet, slim, and noticeably different from the other boys.

While Derek spent his afternoons playing sports, Elliot spent his drawing dresses.

Wedding dresses, particularly.

Elaborate gowns covered in lace, ribbons, flowers, and flowing skirts.

Derek had thought this was hilarious.

He remembered taking Elliot's sketchbook and holding it above his head while their classmates watched.

"Come on, Princess!" sixteen-year-old Derek had shouted. "Why don't you wear one of your pretty little dresses?"

"Give it back, Derek. I need those drawings for my competition."

"What's wrong? Is our little bride going to cry?"

Derek remembered everyone laughing.

He also remembered Elliot looking deeply embarrassed.

For some reason, that memory had never bothered him.

Not until much later.

Two days after discovering the article, Derek attended a bridal fashion exhibition.

His original intention was to film a reaction video.

Finding Elliot there was simply an unexpected bonus.

The exhibition hall was beautiful.

Magnificent wedding gowns stood on mannequins beneath crystal chandeliers. Their enormous skirts spread across decorated platforms, while delicate lace veils hung from elegant displays.

Derek looked around.

People spend this much money on dresses they'll wear once?

He spotted Elliot standing beside one of his designs.

"Elliot!"

The designer turned.

For a moment, surprise crossed his face.

Then recognition.

"Derek Vale."

Derek approached with his smartphone already recording.

"Look at you! Still making princess dresses?"

Elliot's expression remained controlled.

"Apparently you haven't matured much since school."

Derek laughed.

"Come on, Elliot. Don't tell me you're still sensitive about that Princess nickname."

Elliot looked directly at him.

"You called it a joke when we were sixteen, too."

"And you're still upset about it fourteen years later?"

"Some people remember being bullied, Derek."

Derek rolled his eyes.

"Oh, relax. You're successful now, aren't you?"

He turned his camera toward a magnificent ivory bridal gown.

"Look at this thing! How much fabric does one person need?"

A few guests turned to look at him.

Elliot's expression hardened.

"Please stop filming my customers."

Derek laughed again.

"See? Still sensitive."

Unfortunately for Derek, somebody else was recording the confrontation.

And unlike Derek's edited videos, theirs showed everything.

Within forty-eight hours, the footage was everywhere.

His sponsors weren't amused.

Neither were the thousands of people who began sharing stories about his behaviour.

Several former classmates recognized Elliot and publicly described how Derek had treated him at school.

Derek initially dismissed the criticism.

Then his first sponsorship was cancelled.

Then another.

Then a third.

Within a week, his income had collapsed.

He sat in front of his computer, staring at a growing collection of emails.

PARTNERSHIP TERMINATED.

CAMPAIGN CANCELLED.

FUTURE COLLABORATIONS SUSPENDED.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

He slammed his hand against the desk.

"They're dropping me over one stupid video?"

For the first time in years, Derek was frightened.

He had expensive equipment, outstanding payments, and a lifestyle that depended on constant sponsorship income.

His savings wouldn't last forever.

I need money.

That was when Elliot called.

CHAPTER 2

The Price of a Wedding Dress

"I heard you're looking for work."

Derek stared at his phone.

Elliot Hayes was sitting in an elegant office, surrounded by racks of wedding gowns.

"And?" Derek asked suspiciously.

"I have a modeling opportunity."

Derek laughed.

"You want me modeling your clothes? Have you lost your mind?"

"Excellent payment. Professional campaign."

"Not interested."

"It's a bridal advertisement."

Derek stopped laughing.

"A what?"

"One of my clients needs a model for a new collection."

"Then hire a woman."

Elliot gave him a faint smile.

"You were very confident that anyone could do the job."

Derek stared at him.

"You're joking."

"I'm offering you legitimate work, Derek. You can refuse."

Later that afternoon, Derek visited Elliot's studio.

He had no intention of accepting.

At least, that was what he kept telling himself.

Then Elliot showed him the contract.

Derek read the payment.

He looked at Elliot.

Then at the contract.

Then back at Elliot.

"That's for one photoshoot?"

"Yes."

"One day?"

"One campaign, including preparation, photography, and the agreed promotional usage."

Derek looked at the money again.

It would cover several months of expenses.

It's just a dress.

He looked at the photograph lying beside the contract.

The model wore an enormous ivory wedding gown with a fitted bodice, delicate lace, and a skirt so large it occupied almost the entire photograph.

Derek swallowed.

"You seriously expect me to wear that?"

Elliot nodded.

"Among other things."

"Other things?"

"Professional makeup. Hair styling. Accessories. The complete bridal presentation."

Derek frowned.

"How complete?"

Elliot smiled.

"You'll find out."

That should have been enough to make Derek leave.

Instead, he signed.

One day.

One ridiculous day wearing a wedding dress.

Then I take the money and never think about it again.

He had absolutely no idea how wrong he was.

The following morning, Derek arrived at Elliot's beauty studio.

He was immediately overwhelmed.

The room was enormous.

Bright mirrors surrounded by white bulbs lined the walls. Makeup brushes filled beautiful glass containers. Wigs hung on carefully arranged stands, while shelves displayed everything from sparkling earrings to delicate hair accessories.

Three women were waiting for him.

"Well, look who finally arrived!"

The first woman approached with a cheerful smile.

She had shoulder-length black hair with pink highlights and wore a coral blouse.

"I'm Maya. Makeup artist."

She looked him up and down.

"You're our bride?"

Derek winced.

"Can we please not call me that?"

Maya's smile widened.

"Oh, this is going to be fun."

The second woman introduced herself as Vanessa.

She was elegant, with auburn hair arranged in a neat bun.

"I'll be handling your hair."

The third woman, Olivia, wore fashionable glasses and had a short blonde bob.

"And I'm responsible for making sure the clothes fit."

Derek looked around.

"Fine. Let's get this over with."

Maya pointed toward the salon chair.

"Sit."

He obeyed.

She examined his face.

Then she frowned.

"First problem."

"What?"

"That beard has to go."

Derek immediately raised his hand to his jaw.

"Absolutely not."

Maya tilted her head.

"Excuse me?"

"I spent months getting it to look like this."

It was true.

Derek was particularly proud of his neatly trimmed beard.

He liked how it emphasized his jawline.

He liked how masculine it made him look.

And now this woman wanted to shave it off so he could wear a wedding dress.

"Then you'll have to explain to Elliot why his bride has a beard."

"I'm not his bride!"

Maya laughed.

"Not yet."

Vanessa watched from behind the chair, clearly enjoying herself.

"Don't worry. It'll grow back."

Derek stared at his reflection.

It's only facial hair.

I can grow it again.

He reluctantly agreed.

Twenty minutes later, his beard was gone.

Derek stared into the mirror.

His jaw felt strangely exposed.

He touched his smooth chin.

"I look like somebody stole half my face."

Maya smiled.

"There. Much better."

"I hate it."

"You have surprisingly delicate features underneath all that facial hair."

Derek looked at her suspiciously.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Absolutely."

She picked up a foundation bottle.

"And we're only getting started."

CHAPTER 3

The Face in the Mirror

Derek had never understood why women spent so long applying makeup.

After forty minutes in Maya's chair, he was beginning to understand.

He just wasn't enjoying the lesson.

"Stop wrinkling your forehead," Maya instructed.

"I'm not wrinkling anything."

"You are. I'm trying to make you beautiful."

"I'm trying to survive this with some dignity."

Maya laughed.

"Then stop looking like you're being interrogated."

She continued applying foundation.

Derek watched as his complexion gradually became smoother and more even.

The rough masculine appearance he was accustomed to was disappearing beneath carefully blended cosmetics.

Then came his eyebrows.

Maya subtly reshaped them.

"Don't make them too feminine," Derek warned.

Maya paused.

"Derek."

"What?"

"You're here to model a wedding dress."

"I know."

"A wedding dress."

"I heard you."

"Then why are you surprised we're making you look feminine?"

Derek closed his eyes.

Because agreeing to something and actually experiencing it are two completely different things.

The eyeshadow came next.

Soft rose-gold.

Then eyeliner.

"Keep your eyes still."

"Stop waving that thing near my eye."

"It's an eyeliner brush, darling. Not a weapon."

Then false eyelashes.

Derek opened his eyes and blinked repeatedly.

"These things feel ridiculous."

"You'll get used to them."

"I don't want to get used to them."

Finally, Maya applied rosy blush and glossy dusty-pink lipstick.

"Press your lips together."

Derek obeyed reluctantly.

Maya examined her work.

Then she turned the chair toward the mirror.

"There. Meet your beautiful bridal face."

Derek stared.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

His skin looked impossibly smooth.

His eyebrows were delicate.

His eyes appeared larger beneath the long lashes.

His cheeks were softly pink.

And his lips—

Those are my lips?

They looked full and glossy.

He leaned closer to the mirror.

"That's actually me?"

Maya laughed.

"Unless somebody swapped you while I wasn't looking."

Derek touched his cheek.

He still had his short masculine hair.

He was still wearing a black T-shirt.

But his face looked completely different.

How can makeup change someone this much?

Vanessa appeared behind him holding something enormous.

"Ready for the hair?"

Derek turned.

And immediately regretted it.

She was holding a magnificent chestnut-brown wig.

Its glossy curls reached almost to her waist.

Derek stared.

"That's enough hair for three people."

Vanessa laughed.

"Good. Then you'll have plenty to work with."

She secured his short natural hair beneath a fitted wig cap.

Then carefully placed the wig over his head.

Derek watched in growing disbelief as long chestnut curls framed his made-up face.

Vanessa created a romantic half-updo, leaving loose waves falling over his shoulders.

She arranged delicate curled strands around his cheeks.

Finally, she secured several pearl hairpins.

Derek barely recognized himself.

Then Maya appeared holding two small pearl earrings.

"What are those for?"

"Your ears."

"I don't have pierced ears."

"These are clip-ons."

She fastened them.

Derek flinched slightly.

"They pinch."

"Beauty sometimes requires patience."

"I've already donated my beard, sat through an hour of makeup, and now you're hanging pearls from my ears."

Maya examined him in the mirror.

"Oh, he's going to make a gorgeous bride."

Derek groaned.

"Please stop calling me a bride."

But he couldn't stop staring.

Long chestnut curls framed a beautiful, feminine-looking face.

Small pearl earrings caught the light.

He lifted one of the curls between his fingers.

It felt soft.

Realistic.

Almost natural.

I don't even look like the same person anymore.

And he still hadn't seen the dress.

CHAPTER 4

The Tightest Dress of His Life

Olivia entered the fitting room carrying an enormous garment bag.

"All right, Derek. Time for the important part."

She opened it.

Derek stared.

The wedding gown was even larger than he remembered.

Ivory satin.

Delicate floral lace.

An embroidered bodice.

A magnificent sweetheart neckline.

And layers upon layers of fabric forming an enormous skirt.

"Why does it look like it weighs as much as a car?"

Olivia laughed.

"Because you're looking at several layers of expensive satin, not a T-shirt."

Derek examined the bodice.

It was clearly designed for a feminine figure.

He looked down at his own muscular chest.

"How exactly is that supposed to fit me?"

Olivia smiled.

"We'll create the silhouette."

That was when she showed him the fitted undergarments.

And the removable breast forms.

Derek stared.

"Absolutely not."

Olivia raised an eyebrow.

"What's the problem?"

"Those."

He pointed.

"Those are fake breasts."

"Yes."

"You're expecting me to wear them?"

"Under a bridal gown designed to be photographed with a full bust? Yes."

Derek covered his face.

I should have negotiated a higher payment.

Olivia explained how the supportive undergarments would hold the forms securely beneath the gown.

Everything remained properly covered during the fitting.

Derek reluctantly changed into the provided garments.

When he looked down, he froze.

There was now a distinctly feminine shape beneath the fabric.

He moved his shoulders.

The unfamiliar weight shifted slightly.

"These feel weird."

"They're properly secured," Olivia assured him.

"I didn't say they were falling off. I said they feel weird."

"That's because you're not accustomed to wearing them."

Derek looked at the mirror.

I have fake breasts.

I'm wearing fake breasts.

Why did I agree to this?

Then Olivia helped him into the gown.

The magnificent skirt surrounded his legs.

Layers of satin brushed against his ankles.

The structured bodice enclosed his torso.

Olivia began fastening the back.

Derek inhaled.

Then she adjusted the waist.

He immediately stiffened.

"Wait."

Olivia paused.

"What?"

"Why is it so tight?"

"The bodice needs to fit securely."

Derek tried taking a deeper breath.

"My stomach feels like somebody wrapped a belt around it and pulled as hard as they could."

Olivia inspected the fit.

"Tell me if it's uncomfortable. We can adjust the support."

"It's definitely uncomfortable."

She loosened and refitted the waist until he could breathe and move normally.

Derek looked down at himself.

Even after the adjustment, the structured garment felt completely different from anything he had worn before.

He was used to loose sportswear and fitted T-shirts that moved with his body.

This gown dictated how he stood.

How he bent.

How he moved his shoulders.

And how carefully he had to sit.

"I feel like I've been wrapped inside an expensive sofa."

Olivia laughed.

"Well, it's a very beautiful sofa."

Derek turned toward the full-length mirror.

Then stopped.

The ivory satin gown fitted beautifully around his waist.

The removable forms created the appearance of a naturally full bust beneath the embroidered bodice.

The enormous skirt spread elegantly around his legs.

His long chestnut curls rested over his shoulders.

His pearl earrings complemented the bridal makeup.

He looked—

No.

He looked like a bride.

An actual bride.

"I can't believe I'm wearing this."

Olivia carefully arranged the skirt.

"Look at that waistline. Beautiful."

Derek touched the fitted bodice.

He could feel the firm structure beneath the satin.

He could feel the unfamiliar padded shape at his chest.

He could feel the weight of the skirt.

None of it felt like him.

And yet the reflection was astonishingly convincing.

I used to make fun of Elliot for designing clothes like this.

Now I'm wearing one.

Vanessa returned carrying a crystal tiara.

Derek closed his eyes.

"Oh, come on. There's more?"

"Of course."

She placed the tiara above his forehead.

Then attached a cathedral-length veil.

The delicate ivory fabric flowed down his back and over the enormous train.

"There," Vanessa said proudly. "Now you look like you're actually getting married."

"Can we please stop talking about marriage?"

"You're wearing a wedding gown, Derek."

Then came the satin gloves.

The white bridal heels.

And finally, a bouquet of ivory and blush roses.

Derek looked down at the heels.

"You expect me to walk in those?"

Olivia nodded.

"We'll practice."

The next fifteen minutes were miserable.

Derek took stiff, awkward steps while trying not to step on his skirt.

Olivia followed behind, lifting the train whenever necessary.

"Smaller steps."

"I'm trying."

"Keep your posture relaxed."

"I'm wearing a corseted wedding dress and heels!"

"Then stop marching like you're entering a boxing ring."

Vanessa laughed from the doorway.

Derek glared at her.

Finally, Olivia placed the bouquet in his hands.

"Hold it near your waist. Relax your wrists."

Derek stared at the flowers.

"I was a fitness influencer last week."

Olivia adjusted his fingers around the stems.

"And?"

"Now I'm taking lessons in holding flowers."

Maya entered the room.

She stopped.

Then clasped her hands together.

"Oh, Derek!"

He looked toward her.

"What?"

"You look absolutely beautiful."

He rolled his eyes.

"Please."

But something strange happened when he glanced back at the mirror.

He didn't immediately look away.

The gown was beautiful.

The hairstyle was beautiful.

Even the makeup looked beautiful.

And, for one uncomfortable moment, he wondered whether he looked beautiful too.

He immediately pushed the thought aside.

It's just a costume.

None of this is real.

CHAPTER 5

The Bride and Her Groom

Derek thought the makeover was the most humiliating part of the assignment.

He was wrong.

Very wrong.

"All right, Derek. Stand beneath the floral arch."

Elliot directed him toward the photography set.

The studio was decorated like an extravagant wedding venue.

Hundreds of blush-pink roses surrounded a magnificent floral arch. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, while professional cameras and enormous lighting equipment stood around the room.

Derek carefully walked toward the arch.

Every step required concentration.

His heels clicked against the polished floor.

His enormous ivory skirt swayed around his legs.

And the long veil followed behind him like an embarrassing reminder of his situation.

One photoshoot.

Take the money.

Go home.

He repeated those thoughts like a prayer.

"Relax your shoulders," Elliot instructed.

Derek lowered them.

"Now hold the bouquet closer to your waist."

He obeyed.

"Chin slightly down."

Derek did that too.

"And smile."

Derek stared at Elliot.

"I'm wearing a wedding dress in front of twelve strangers. What exactly should I be happy about?"

Maya approached.

"Imagine you're marrying the love of your life."

"I'm imagining my bank account getting paid."

Maya burst out laughing.

"That's romantic in a very depressing way."

Derek attempted a smile.

It looked terrible.

"Less angry," Maya instructed.

He tried again.

"Less frightened."

Derek gave her a murderous look.

"You're making this impossible."

Eventually, Elliot took a test photograph.

Derek walked over to examine the monitor.

And stopped.

The woman in the photograph looked beautiful.

Her magnificent ivory gown spread across the floor.

Her chestnut curls framed her face.

Her pearl earrings sparkled beneath the lights.

She held an elegant bouquet and stood beneath a floral arch, looking like a genuine bride preparing for her wedding.

Derek stared.

That's me.

His stomach tightened.

That's actually me.

Elliot examined the photograph.

"Better than I expected."

Derek swallowed.

"You can't seriously tell it's me from that?"

"Not everyone will recognize you immediately."

Derek didn't know whether to feel relieved or offended.

Then somebody opened the studio door.

"Sorry! Am I late?"

A tall, handsome man entered wearing a perfectly fitted black tuxedo.

He had short black hair, broad shoulders, and an athletic build.

He looked relaxed.

Confident.

Completely comfortable.

Exactly the way Derek normally preferred to look.

The man approached with a friendly smile.

"Hey! You must be the bride. I'm Leo, your groom for today."

Derek froze.

"My what?"

"The groom. I'm playing your husband in the photographs."

Derek slowly turned toward Elliot.

"You didn't mention a husband."

Elliot raised an eyebrow.

"It's a wedding advertisement."

"I thought I was modeling the dress!"

"You are."

"Then why is there a man?"

Leo laughed.

"Usually there's one in a traditional wedding advertisement."

Derek stared at him.

Leo looked down at the enormous gown.

Then back at Derek.

"Well, you look great."

Derek's cheeks warmed beneath the makeup.

"Thanks," he muttered.

Why am I thanking him?

Leo offered his arm.

"Ready?"

Derek stared at it.

"For what?"

"The first photograph."

Derek looked toward Elliot.

Elliot nodded.

"Take his arm."

Derek reluctantly slipped his satin-gloved hand around Leo's arm.

It felt strange.

Leo's arm was muscular beneath the tuxedo.

Derek had spent years developing arms like that.

Now he was standing beside a muscular man, holding his arm while dressed in an enormous bridal gown.

The irony wasn't lost on him.

I used to be the guy in the tuxedo.

Not the one wearing the dress.

"Closer together," Elliot instructed.

Derek moved an inch.

"Closer."

Another inch.

"Derek."

"What?"

"You're supposed to look like a couple, not two strangers waiting for a bus."

Leo chuckled.

"Don't worry. I won't bite."

Derek glared at him.

"I know how to hold someone's arm."

"Good. We're making progress."

The camera flashed.

Then Elliot changed the pose.

"Leo, place your hand against Derek's upper back. Derek, rest your hand on his shoulder."

Derek obeyed reluctantly.

It was supposed to resemble a bride and groom sharing their first dance.

Leo looked down at him with an affectionate smile.

Derek stared back.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because we're supposed to be getting married."

"We're not actually getting married."

"I know."

"Then stop smiling like that."

Leo laughed.

"You're making my job difficult."

Elliot sighed.

"Derek, relax. You're supposed to look like you adore him."

"I met him fifteen minutes ago!"

Maya, standing behind the camera, covered her mouth.

Derek heard her laughing.

Wonderful.

My former bullying victim is directing me to act like a bride, my makeup artist is laughing at me, and a handsome stranger is pretending to be my husband.

Could this day get any worse?

It could.

And it did.

"All right," Elliot announced. "Let's try the veil-lifting photograph."

Vanessa adjusted Derek's veil.

Leo moved closer.

The photographer prepared the camera.

"Leo, gently lift the veil. Derek, look up at him."

Derek swallowed.

Leo carefully lifted the sheer fabric away from his face.

For a moment, Derek could see nothing but Leo standing directly in front of him.

"Just look at me," Leo said quietly. "Forget the cameras."

Derek looked upward.

Their faces were close.

Far too close.

"Easy for you to say," Derek muttered. "You're not wearing the dress."

Leo smiled.

The camera flashed.

"Beautiful!" Elliot called.

Then the photographer examined the images.

"We could use a kissing shot."

Derek's stomach dropped.

"A what?"

"A wedding kiss," Elliot explained.

Derek stared.

"You want me to kiss him?"

"We can use a different pose if you're uncomfortable," Elliot said.

Leo immediately nodded.

"No pressure. We can fake it with the camera angle."

Derek looked around.

Everyone was waiting.

His pride screamed at him to refuse.

But another part of him remembered the contract, the money, and the endless trouble he had already endured getting dressed.

He looked at Leo.

"Just a quick kiss?"

"Only if you're comfortable," Leo replied.

Derek hesitated.

Then sighed.

"Fine. One quick kiss. For the photograph."

Leo nodded.

"Understood."

Elliot positioned them beneath the floral arch.

Derek held his bouquet.

Leo rested one hand gently against his back.

"Ready?" Leo asked.

Derek nodded nervously.

Leo leaned closer.

Derek closed his eyes.

Their lips met briefly.

Click. Click. Click.

The camera flashed.

Derek's eyes flew open.

I just kissed a man.

In a wedding dress.

In front of an entire photography crew.

Before he could recover, the photographer exclaimed, "Perfect!"

Maya clasped her hands together.

"Oh my goodness! That was adorable!"

Another crew member laughed.

"Look at the bride blushing!"

Derek stepped back.

"I'm not blushing!"

Unfortunately, his heavily made-up cheeks were turning noticeably pink.

Maya pointed.

"He's definitely blushing."

"That's the makeup!"

"Of course it is, sweetheart."

Derek covered his face with his gloved hands.

I want to disappear.

Leo chuckled.

"You did great."

"Please don't congratulate me for kissing you."

"Fair enough."

Elliot examined the photographs.

His expression changed.

"Wait."

The crew gathered around the monitor.

Derek reluctantly joined them.

The photograph was stunning.

Leo stood in his handsome black tuxedo, gently holding his bride.

The bride's long chestnut curls fell beneath a sparkling tiara.

An enormous ivory gown surrounded the couple.

And their lips met beneath a beautiful floral arch.

It looked romantic.

Genuine.

Almost impossibly perfect.

Derek stared at it.

That doesn't even look like me.

The bride looked like a beautiful woman sharing an intimate moment with her husband.

He examined her face.

The soft blush.

The glossy lips.

The long eyelashes.

The delicate pearl earrings.

And the unmistakably feminine expression.

That's my face.

Maya leaned closer.

"Oh, Derek. Look at you!"

He immediately turned away.

"Delete it."

Elliot raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"That photograph. Delete it."

"It's one of the best photographs we've taken."

Derek looked horrified.

"You're actually putting that online?"

Elliot nodded.

"That's what an advertising campaign is."

Derek slowly covered his face again.

I'm never going to live this down.

He was right.

But not for the reason he expected.

CHAPTER 6

Derek the Bride

Two weeks later, Derek became famous for kissing a man in a wedding dress.

It happened almost overnight.

The bridal company released its promotional photographs.

Several were beautiful individual portraits.

Others featured Derek standing beside Leo.

But one photograph attracted far more attention than the others.

The kiss.

Someone recognized the bride.

Then someone else found Derek's old video about how easy modeling was.

Within hours, social media was filled with comparisons.

On one side was muscular Derek Vale, wearing a tight black T-shirt and confidently mocking female models.

On the other was Derek wearing a magnificent wedding gown while kissing Leo beneath a floral arch.

The captions practically wrote themselves.

FROM FITNESS BRO TO BEAUTIFUL BRIDE.

DEREK VALE FINALLY PROVES MODELING IS EASY.

THE MAN WHO SAID HE'D NEVER WEAR A DRESS IS NOW SOMEONE'S BRIDE.

Derek stared at his computer in horror.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

He scrolled.

One comment read:

The guy who said he'd never wear a dress is literally somebody's bride now!

Another said:

His bridal makeup is better than mine, and I'm a woman.

A third comment made him close his eyes.

Forget the dress. DID YOU SEE THAT KISS?

Derek groaned.

Of course they saw it.

The entire internet saw it.

The photograph had accumulated an extraordinary number of views.

And the comments kept coming.

Some mocked him.

Others praised the transformation.

A surprising number of people genuinely believed he looked beautiful.

One person wrote:

Wait, that's the same guy? His makeup artist deserves a raise.

Another:

I don't care what he looked like before. That bride is gorgeous.

Derek didn't know what offended him more.

Being mocked.

Or being complimented for looking beautiful in a wedding gown.

He covered his face.

"Great. The entire internet thinks I'm somebody's wife."

He was still staring at the comments when his phone vibrated.

A payment notification appeared.

Derek opened it.

Then froze.

$12,500.00 — INCOMING TRANSFER.

He stared at the number.

Then opened his previous month's earnings.

The comparison was ridiculous.

He had earned more from one bridal assignment than his old channel had earned during its final month of normal operation.

"Wait."

He leaned closer.

"That's the actual payment?"

He checked the transaction again.

The money was real.

One photoshoot.

One ridiculous wedding dress.

One embarrassing kiss.

And I earned twelve thousand five hundred dollars?

Derek slowly leaned back in his chair.

For the first time since the photographs had gone viral, he smiled.

Perhaps the humiliation hadn't been entirely pointless.

Then Elliot called.

"Derek, congratulations."

"Don't."

"What?"

"Don't congratulate me for becoming the internet's favourite bride."

Elliot laughed.

"I was congratulating you on a successful campaign."

"Same thing."

"Actually, the campaign performed better than expected."

Derek glanced at the payment notification.

"I noticed."

"And another company wants to work with you."

Derek stopped smiling.

"What company?"

"Cosmetics."

He frowned.

"Cosmetics?"

"Lipstick, specifically."

Derek imagined another wedding gown.

Another enormous wig.

Another photography crew laughing at him.

He sighed.

"Another dress?"

Elliot sounded amused.

"A very pink one."

Derek arrived at Elliot's office the following afternoon.

Elliot placed a large advertising proposal in front of him.

The portfolio was bright pink.

ROSÉ BLOOM — THE GIRL NEXT DOOR.

It contained photographs of lipstick products, makeup palettes, pastel accessories, and elaborate costume concepts.

One outfit was a cheerful pink dress with a fitted waist and flared skirt.

Another was covered in ribbons.

A third featured a tiny handbag and white heels.

Derek stared at the images.

"Why is everything pink?"

"It's a pink-themed cosmetics campaign."

"There's pink lipstick, pink clothes, pink handbags—"

"Yes."

"Even the earrings are pink!"

Elliot smiled.

"You're very observant."

Derek pushed the portfolio away.

"No."

Elliot slid the payment proposal toward him.

Derek stopped.

He read the amount.

Then picked up the portfolio again.

I hate this.

I really hate this.

But he kept reading.

The company wanted a cheerful female character.

Someone sweet.

Playful.

A little exaggerated.

And completely adorable.

Derek felt an uncomfortable sensation in his stomach.

"What's the character's name?"

Elliot turned the page.

DANI VALE.

Derek stared.

"Dani?"

"It's a professional stage name."

"You want me to change my name too?"

"Only for the advertisements."

Derek rubbed his forehead.

First the wedding dress.

Now an actual girl's name.

He looked at the payment again.

Then at the pink dresses.

Finally, he sighed.

"Fine."

Elliot smiled.

"Excellent."

"But I'm not wearing anything ridiculous."

Elliot said nothing.

Derek immediately regretted adding that condition.

CHAPTER 7

Meet Dani Vale

"Dani?"

Derek stared at the storyboard.

"Dani Vale?"

Maya nodded cheerfully.

"It's cute, memorable, and apparently worth a lot of money."

"I sound like somebody's girlfriend."

Maya pointed toward the title.

THE GIRL NEXT DOOR.

"That's quite literally the character."

Derek groaned.

He sat in the makeup chair wearing his usual black T-shirt and dark trousers.

His short natural hair had been flattened beneath a wig cap.

Maya had already begun applying foundation.

The bridal transformation had been strange enough.

This was different.

The company didn't want a beautiful, elegant bride.

It wanted a cheerful, bubbly, sweet-looking girl.

And Maya was determined to deliver exactly that.

She applied luminous foundation.

Then rosy blush.

Then shimmering pink eyeshadow.

Derek watched the cosmetics accumulate.

"Do you really need that much pink?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because we're advertising pink lipstick."

"Fair point."

Maya laughed.

Then came the eyeliner.

The dramatic eyelashes.

And finally, glossy bubblegum-pink lipstick.

Derek watched his reflection change.

Again.

His eyes looked larger.

His cheeks appeared softer.

His lips were glossy and noticeably pink.

Maya stepped back.

"There. Now try smiling."

Derek forced a smile.

She frowned.

"Less irritated."

"I'm irritated."

"Wonderful. Now pretend you aren't."

Derek looked into the mirror.

At least I don't have to wear another wedding dress.

Then Vanessa walked into the room.

She was carrying a long honey-blonde wig.

Derek closed his eyes.

"Oh, no."

Vanessa smiled.

"Oh, yes."

The wig was enormous.

Its long blonde hair had been prepared for a high ponytail.

Vanessa placed it over his wig cap, adjusted the hairline, and began gathering the hair upward.

Derek watched as she pulled the long strands into a high ponytail.

Then she curled the ends.

Then she added a large pastel-pink satin ribbon.

Derek stared at the bow.

"Why is that thing so big?"

"It needs to show up clearly on camera."

"It looks like a birthday present."

Vanessa laughed.

"This will look adorable when you bounce around."

Derek turned toward her.

"Why exactly would I be bouncing around?"

"You'll understand when you read the script."

He narrowed his eyes.

"What script?"

Vanessa's smile widened.

I don't like that smile.

Then Olivia arrived.

She carried a pastel-pink skater dress, a cropped white cardigan, white heels, a tiny pink handbag, and two heart-shaped earrings.

Derek slowly stared at the outfit.

Then at Olivia.

Then back at the outfit.

"No."

Olivia sighed.

"Derek."

"No."

"It's the approved costume."

"I'm not wearing that."

"Then I suppose you'll have to explain to Renee why you're cancelling a paid advertisement."

He looked at the dress.

Then imagined the payment disappearing.

Finally, he muttered something unpleasant and accepted the outfit.

The fitting took longer than he expected.

First came the supportive undergarments and removable breast forms.

Derek had become more familiar with them after the bridal shoot.

That didn't mean he enjoyed wearing them.

"These again?"

Olivia nodded.

"The dress needs a consistent silhouette."

Derek looked down as the undergarments created the familiar padded chest.

Wonderful.

Fake breasts again.

Then came the pink dress.

It fitted neatly around his waist before spreading into a gently flared skirt.

Olivia adjusted the fabric.

"Stand straight."

"I am standing straight."

"You're slouching."

"Because I'm embarrassed."

"That's not a posture."

Derek sighed.

The white cardigan went over the dress.

Then Olivia fastened the heart-shaped earrings to his ears.

He winced.

"More clip-ons?"

"Your ears aren't pierced."

"Exactly."

"Then these are our options."

He examined the tiny dangling pink hearts.

Even my ears are wearing Valentine's decorations.

Finally came the white heels.

The charm bracelet.

And the little handbag.

Olivia handed it to him.

Derek looked at it.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Carry it."

"Why?"

"Because your character is going shopping to meet her boyfriend."

Derek froze.

"Her what?"

Olivia smiled innocently.

"Boyfriend."

Oh, you've got to be kidding me.

She directed him toward the full-length mirror.

"All right. Let's see the complete look."

Derek turned.

And stopped.

The transformation was astonishing.

His honey-blonde hair was gathered into a high, bouncy ponytail.

A giant pink satin bow decorated the hairstyle.

Long curled strands framed his cheeks.

Pink heart-shaped earrings dangled beside his face.

His glossy pink lipstick matched the fitted skater dress.

The cropped white cardigan made the outfit look even softer and more feminine.

The flared skirt moved gently whenever he shifted his weight.

And the small pink handbag looked absurdly natural hanging from his wrist.

He looked like a cheerful young woman dressed for a romantic afternoon.

Except his expression was deeply miserable.

Maya entered the room.

She stopped.

Then squealed.

"Oh, Dani! You're positively adorable!"

Derek glared at his reflection.

"I look like somebody's embarrassing Valentine's Day present."

Maya clasped her hands together.

"An adorable Valentine's Day present."

Derek looked down at the padded chest.

Then the pink dress.

Then the heart-shaped earrings.

Then the enormous bow.

I'm a thirty-year-old man.

I used to make videos about lifting weights.

And now I'm dressed like this.

His stomach tightened.

People are actually paying me to look like somebody's cute little girlfriend.

He didn't know whether that was brilliant business or a complete personal disaster.

Probably both.

CHAPTER 8

His First Boyfriend Commercial

Derek entered the advertising set carrying his tiny pink handbag.

His blonde ponytail bounced behind him.

The studio was decorated like an adorable pastel apartment.

A pink sofa stood in the centre.

Heart-shaped cushions filled the room.

Flowers decorated the tables.

Everything looked cheerful.

Sweet.

And painfully pink.

Derek was already uncomfortable.

Then he saw Leo.

The same handsome man who had played his groom.

Leo was wearing a fitted white polo shirt and light-blue jeans.

He looked comfortable.

Masculine.

Relaxed.

Derek immediately felt jealous.

Of course he gets to wear jeans.

Leo spotted him.

His expression brightened.

"Hey, Dani! Looks like we're dating again."

Derek stopped walking.

"Please don't call it that."

Leo laughed.

"Sorry. Professional habit."

Derek approached, his white heels clicking against the floor.

He looked Leo up and down.

"Why do you always get normal clothes?"

Leo glanced at the pink dress.

"Because I'm not advertising lipstick."

Derek groaned.

"Don't remind me."

A production assistant handed him the storyboard.

Derek read the first scene.

DANI RUNS TOWARD HER BOYFRIEND, EXCITEDLY TAKES HIS ARM, AND GIVES HIM AN ADORING SMILE.

He stared.

Then read it again.

"Runs?"

Leo leaned closer.

"What?"

"Why do I have to run toward you like some lovesick teenager?"

Leo smiled.

"Because apparently our imaginary relationship is very exciting."

Derek looked down at the flared pink skirt.

So that's why Vanessa said the ponytail needed to bounce.

He could already imagine the scene.

Running toward Leo.

His blonde ponytail flying behind him.

His pink skirt fluttering.

His heart-shaped earrings swaying.

Then clinging to Leo's muscular arm like some delighted girlfriend.

Derek wanted to sink into the floor.

But the director was already calling everyone into position.

"Places, please!"

Derek stood near the entrance to the set.

Leo waited beside the sofa.

"Camera rolling!"

"Action!"

Derek walked toward Leo.

Slowly.

Stiffly.

His handbag hung awkwardly at his side.

He gave Leo the smallest smile imaginable.

"Cut!"

Director Claire stared at him.

"Dani, you're supposed to be excited to see your boyfriend."

Derek spread his arms.

"This is my excited face!"

Leo started laughing.

Derek glared at him.

"Stop."

"I'm sorry."

"You're not sorry."

"You're right."

Claire approached.

"All right, let's try something different."

She demonstrated the required movement.

"Run toward him. Smile. Hold his arm. Look at him like he's the most wonderful person you've ever met."

Derek stared.

"Do you have any idea how difficult that is when he's standing there laughing at me?"

Leo raised both hands.

"I'll behave."

Claire sighed.

"Again."

The second take wasn't much better.

Derek approached Leo with a slightly faster walk.

His ponytail bounced.

His pink skirt fluttered.

He reluctantly wrapped both hands around Leo's arm.

But his expression remained deeply annoyed.

"Cut!"

Claire shook her head.

"Dani. You're supposed to adore him."

"I don't adore him."

"You're acting."

"I know that!"

"Then act."

Derek stared at her.

Leo leaned slightly toward him.

"Try forgetting about the cameras."

Derek looked up.

"You said that during the bridal shoot."

"It worked."

"You made me kiss you!"

Leo laughed.

"That was a different advertisement."

Derek covered his face.

Why does he remember everything?

Claire called for another take.

This time, Derek forced himself to follow the instructions properly.

He took several quick, light steps toward Leo.

The skirt fluttered.

His blonde ponytail bounced.

He reached Leo and wrapped both hands around his muscular arm.

Then he tilted his head upward.

And smiled.

Not a small smile.

Not an irritated smile.

A bright, delighted, adoring smile.

The kind of expression he imagined a ridiculously lovestruck girlfriend might make.

Leo looked down at him.

"Hey, beautiful."

Derek nearly ruined the take.

Beautiful?

He's calling me beautiful?

But he kept smiling.

The camera continued recording.

"Perfect!" Claire exclaimed.

Derek immediately released Leo's arm.

"Finally."

But Claire wasn't finished.

"Now the lipstick shot."

Derek looked suspicious.

"What lipstick shot?"

Five minutes later, he was standing beside Leo, holding a pink lipstick tube while leaning affectionately against his shoulder.

"Closer," Claire instructed.

Derek moved closer.

"Rest your head slightly toward him."

He obeyed.

"Smile."

He smiled.

"More."

He smiled wider.

Leo looked down at him.

"You're holding my arm like you're trying to stop me escaping."

Derek muttered through his smile.

"Maybe I'm trying to escape."

Leo laughed.

And somehow, the photograph became perfect.

Derek looked sweet.

Happy.

Affectionate.

His glossy pink lips curved into a beautiful smile.

His heart-shaped earrings matched the pastel dress.

His blonde ponytail fell elegantly behind his shoulder.

He looked like the happiest girlfriend in the world.

When Claire showed him the monitor, Derek stared.

I used to get paid for lifting weights.

Now I'm getting paid to giggle at a man holding me.

He couldn't believe how ridiculous his life had become.

What frightened him more was how convincing the result looked.

The camera didn't show his embarrassment.

It didn't show his irritation.

It didn't show how desperately he wanted the shoot to end.

It showed Dani Vale.

A beautiful young woman who appeared completely delighted to be beside her handsome boyfriend.

Derek looked away.

"It's just an advertisement."

Maya, passing behind him, smiled.

"Of course it is, sweetheart."

CHAPTER 9

Another Day, Another Boyfriend

Three weeks later, Derek arrived at the studio for another commercial.

He was starting to recognize a disturbing pattern.

Every time his manager called with a new job, there was another ridiculous outfit waiting for him.

Usually a dress.

Frequently a wig.

Almost always an excessive amount of makeup.

And, for reasons he couldn't understand, an increasingly handsome collection of imaginary boyfriends.

This time, the client was a chocolate company.

Sweetheart Chocolates.

Derek examined the campaign proposal.

Pink hearts.

Romantic dates.

Chocolate boxes.

A beautiful girlfriend reacting excitedly to a surprise from her boyfriend.

He groaned.

"Another girlfriend commercial?"

Maya looked up from her makeup brushes.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine."

Derek pointed at the storyboard.

"Why does every company want me to play somebody's girlfriend?"

Maya shrugged.

"Because you're very good at it."

"I am not."

"Your last commercial would disagree."

He frowned.

"I looked ridiculous."

"You looked adorable."

"Same thing."

Maya laughed.

"Sit down, Dani."

Derek slowly lowered himself into the makeup chair.

He was still wearing his usual black T-shirt and dark trousers.

His face was clean-shaven, and his short, dark-brown hair had already been secured beneath a wig cap.

He watched Maya prepare her brushes.

"What are we doing this time?"

"Something sweet."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Pink blush. Soft eyeshadow. Pretty lipstick."

Derek sighed.

"So the usual."

Maya smiled.

"The usual."

She began applying foundation.

By now, Derek knew the routine.

Keep his face still.

Close his eyes when instructed.

Don't move during eyeliner.

Don't complain when the false eyelashes felt strange.

He still complained anyway.

"Why do you need so much blush?"

"Because the camera washes out some of the colour."

"You're making my cheeks pink."

"That's the idea."

"I already have cheeks."

Maya laughed.

"Yes, Derek. I'm aware."

She carefully blended the blush.

Then applied soft pink eyeshadow.

Derek watched his eyes become more defined beneath the eyeliner and mascara.

Finally, Maya reached for a tube of coral lipstick.

"Open slightly."

Derek obeyed.

She carefully applied the colour.

Then added a layer of gloss.

Derek examined his reflection.

His lips looked fuller.

His cheeks looked rosy.

His eyes looked larger.

He sighed.

"Another beautiful day being somebody I'm not."

Maya paused.

Then smiled gently.

"You're playing a character, Derek. Actors do it every day."

"Actors don't have to wear dresses every time they go to work."

"Some do."

He had no answer to that.

Then Vanessa appeared.

She was carrying a long chestnut-brown wig.

Derek stared at it.

"Please tell me that's not mine."

Vanessa smiled.

"It is."

The wig was beautiful.

Its long, glossy chestnut curls were neatly arranged.

But the two pale-blue satin ribbons sitting beside it immediately made Derek suspicious.

"What are those?"

"Hair ribbons."

"Why are there two?"

Vanessa looked delighted.

"Because you're getting two ponytails."

Derek slowly turned toward her.

"Two?"

"Yes."

"One on each side?"

"That's generally how twin ponytails work."

Derek closed his eyes.

Of course.

Of course they want two ponytails.

Vanessa fitted the wig over his cap.

Then carefully separated the long chestnut hair into two sections.

She gathered each section high on his head.

The curls fell over his shoulders.

Then she tied a pale-blue satin ribbon around each ponytail.

Derek watched the transformation in the mirror.

One ribbon.

Then another.

Two enormous bunches of curled hair now framed his face.

Vanessa adjusted the curls.

"There."

Derek stared.

"Absolutely ridiculous."

Vanessa smiled.

"Absolutely adorable."

"They're too high."

"They're exactly where the hairstyling plan says they should be."

"They make me look like a schoolgirl."

"That's a youthful advertising style. The character is an adult, and the look is supposed to be playful."

Derek looked at the two blue ribbons.

I'm thirty years old.

Why is my hair tied into two curly ponytails?

Then Olivia entered.

She was holding a baby-blue dress.

Derek looked at it.

Then at her.

"No."

Olivia sighed.

"We haven't even started."

The dress was light blue, with a modest high neckline, softly puffed sleeves, a fitted white belt, and a pleated skirt.

It looked sweet.

Very sweet.

Far too sweet.

Olivia displayed the matching accessories.

Pale-blue Mary Jane shoes.

White ankle socks.

A little blue handbag.

And two flower-shaped earrings.

Derek stared.

"You're dressing me like a doll."

Maya smiled.

"A very expensive doll."

Derek groaned.

The fitting took nearly half an hour.

The padded undergarments went on first.

Derek was becoming disturbingly accustomed to their unfamiliar weight.

He still hated the moment when he looked down and saw the artificial feminine shape beneath his clothing.

Then came the blue dress.

Olivia adjusted the waist.

She straightened the white belt.

She checked the pleats.

Derek shifted uncomfortably.

"Why does everything need to be fitted around my waist?"

"Because that creates the silhouette the company wants."

"What happened to normal clothes?"

Olivia looked up.

"You're wearing normal clothes."

"Not normal for me."

She smiled.

"That's a different argument."

The blue flower-shaped clip-on earrings came next.

Derek frowned as Olivia fastened one to each ear.

"These things pinch."

"We can adjust them."

"Why does every commercial need earrings?"

"Because they're part of the styling."

"Of course they are."

Finally came the white ankle socks and pale-blue Mary Janes.

Derek stood in front of the mirror.

The transformation was complete.

Long chestnut curls fell from two high ponytails.

Large blue ribbons decorated either side of his head.

His cheeks were rosy.

His lips were glossy coral.

His little blue flower earrings matched the baby-blue pleated dress.

The white belt emphasized his padded feminine silhouette.

And the Mary Jane shoes completed the deliberately sweet appearance.

Maya clasped her hands together.

"Oh, Dani."

Derek didn't like her tone.

"What?"

"You look absolutely adorable."

"I look like a doll."

Vanessa nodded.

"An adorable doll."

Derek rubbed his forehead.

"I hate all of you."

The three women laughed.

Then Olivia handed him the small blue handbag.

Derek stared at it.

"Really?"

"Really."

He reluctantly took it.

This is just a costume.

Just a costume.

Maya pointed toward the mirror.

"Now give us a sweet smile."

Derek glared.

"Absolutely not."

She laughed.

"Perfect. That's the expression we need to fix before filming."

When Derek entered the candy-company studio, he immediately noticed a man standing beside an enormous heart-shaped chocolate display.

Tall.

Handsome.

Athletic.

Sandy-blonde hair.

Blue eyes.

And, naturally, he was wearing perfectly ordinary masculine clothing.

A cream button-down shirt.

Beige chinos.

White trainers.

Derek nearly sighed aloud.

Another one.

The man approached with a friendly smile.

"Hey! I'm Owen."

He extended his hand.

Derek shook it.

Owen glanced at the storyboard.

"Looks like I'm your boyfriend today."

Derek stared at him.

"Why does everybody keep introducing themselves like that?"

Owen laughed.

"Sorry. Is that getting old?"

"You have no idea."

Owen examined Derek's costume.

"Those ribbons are impressive."

Derek's eyes narrowed.

"Don't."

"I was going to compliment them."

"That makes it worse."

Owen laughed again.

"Well, you look great."

Derek looked toward the floor.

Why do these men keep complimenting me?

Don't they understand how embarrassing this is?

Then Claire called them into position.

"All right, everyone. Let's begin!"

Derek took a deep breath.

Here we go again.

The first scene was simple.

Owen would surprise Dani with a heart-shaped box of chocolates.

Dani would react with overwhelming delight.

At least, that was the plan.

"Action!"

Owen approached with a beautiful red chocolate box.

"Surprise, sweetheart!"

He presented it.

Derek looked at the box.

Then at Owen.

Then back at the box.

"Thanks."

Silence.

"Cut!"

Claire looked horrified.

"Dani!"

Derek turned.

"What?"

"You're getting a romantic surprise, not a parking ticket!"

Owen started laughing.

Derek folded his arms.

"I'm trying. This isn't how I normally react to chocolate."

Claire walked toward him.

"All right. Here's what I need."

She demonstrated.

"Hands near your cheeks. Eyes wide. Big smile. You're delighted."

Derek stared at her.

"You want me to squeal?"

"If it fits the performance, yes."

He closed his eyes.

Of course she wants me to squeal.

Maya watched from behind the camera.

She was already smiling.

Derek pointed at her.

"Don't."

"I haven't said anything!"

"You're thinking it."

Maya laughed.

"Maybe."

Claire called for another take.

Owen approached again.

"Surprise, sweetheart!"

He presented the chocolates.

Derek took a breath.

Then raised both hands toward his cheeks.

His eyes widened.

His mouth opened in an enormous smile.

"Oh my goodness!"

His curly ponytails bounced beside his face.

"Chocolates! For me?"

Owen looked delighted.

"Of course, sweetheart."

Derek gave an exaggerated gasp.

"You're the best boyfriend ever!"

"Cut!"

Claire clapped.

"Perfect!"

Owen burst out laughing.

"There she is! I thought we'd lost the happy girlfriend."

Derek's face burned.

I just squealed over a box of chocolates.

In a baby-blue dress.

While wearing two enormous ribbons.

He lowered his hands.

"Are we finished?"

Claire smiled.

"With this scene."

Derek's heart sank.

"There's more?"

"Of course."

The next scene was a romantic café date.

Derek wanted to scream.

CHAPTER 10

The Sweetest Girl in the Café

The café set was beautiful.

Small round tables stood beneath warm lights.

Pastel flowers decorated the windows.

Two elaborate milkshakes rested on a table beside a box of Sweetheart Chocolates.

Everything looked designed to make the audience smile.

Derek was having the opposite reaction.

He sat opposite Owen.

His baby-blue dress spread neatly around his knees.

His two long chestnut ponytails rested over his shoulders.

The pale-blue ribbons seemed determined to remind him how ridiculous he looked.

Owen leaned comfortably against his chair.

Derek glared at the milkshake.

"Why is it pink?"

Owen glanced down.

"Strawberry?"

"I know it's strawberry."

"Then why are you asking?"

Derek sighed.

"Never mind."

Claire approached.

"All right, Dani. This is a romantic café date."

Derek looked up.

"Obviously."

"You're supposed to be completely charmed by Owen."

"Naturally."

Claire ignored his sarcasm.

"Rest your chin on your hand. Lean forward slightly. Give him a sweet little smile."

Derek stared at her.

"Why does every commercial involve me smiling at some guy?"

Owen laughed.

"Maybe because you're very popular."

Derek turned toward him.

"Don't encourage her."

Claire returned to the camera.

"Places!"

Derek reluctantly rested his chin on his hand.

His elbow sat neatly on the table.

His other hand held the milkshake.

The director adjusted his position.

"Turn slightly toward Owen."

Derek obeyed.

"Now smile."

He smiled.

"More affectionate."

He widened the smile.

"Less forced."

His eye twitched.

How am I supposed to smile naturally when everyone keeps telling me how to smile?

Owen noticed his frustration.

"Relax," he said quietly.

Derek looked at him.

"That's easy for you to say."

"Just imagine we're actually having a normal conversation."

Derek raised an eyebrow.

"While I'm wearing two giant ribbons?"

Owen smiled.

"They're not that giant."

"You're a liar."

Owen laughed.

And Derek laughed too.

The camera clicked.

Claire leaned toward the monitor.

"Oh!"

Derek turned.

"What?"

"That was lovely."

He blinked.

"What was?"

"The smile. Do that again."

Derek stared at Owen.

Owen grinned.

"See? I'm helping."

Derek rolled his eyes.

"You're enjoying this."

"A little."

The next take went better.

Derek leaned forward.

He rested his chin on his hand.

Then he looked at Owen.

His cheeks were already pink from the makeup.

But when Owen smiled warmly at him, Derek felt genuinely self-conscious.

Not attracted.

Not romantic.

Just deeply aware of how he must look.

A feminine face.

Long curled ponytails.

Glossy lips.

A baby-blue dress.

And a handsome man sitting opposite him, pretending to be completely fascinated by him.

Derek gave Owen the requested smile.

The camera captured it perfectly.

"Beautiful!" Claire exclaimed.

Owen leaned back.

"You're actually pretty good when you stop fighting the scene."

Derek sighed.

"That's because we've been doing the same take for forty minutes."

Owen laughed.

"Whatever works."

After the shoot, Maya insisted that Derek watch the finished footage.

He didn't want to.

She insisted anyway.

"Come on. Look."

They stood in front of the editing monitor.

The commercial played.

A beautiful young woman sat in a pastel café.

She wore a baby-blue dress with two high, curly ponytails decorated by enormous blue ribbons.

Her flower-shaped earrings complemented her rosy cheeks.

She leaned forward, resting her chin on one hand.

Then she gave the handsome man opposite her a soft, affectionate smile.

The man smiled back.

The entire scene looked sweet.

Romantic.

Convincing.

Derek stared.

That's me.

Again.

He had experienced this feeling during the bridal shoot.

But this was worse.

The bridal gown had been elaborate enough to feel like a costume.

This was different.

He looked like an ordinary, cheerful young woman enjoying a date.

Maya covered her mouth.

"Oh, look at you."

Derek groaned.

"Don't."

"You're practically melting."

"I was acting."

She laughed.

"Of course."

"Don't you dare make that my profile picture."

Maya gave him an innocent look.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Derek narrowed his eyes.

"Maya."

"What?"

"Promise."

She laughed harder.

Derek looked back at the monitor.

His character was smiling sweetly at Owen.

My audience is going to have a field day with this.

He imagined the comments.

The jokes.

The endless comparisons.

And the worst part?

The advertisement was genuinely good.

He hated that.

Because he was beginning to understand something he had refused to acknowledge before.

Modeling wasn't simply standing in front of a camera and looking attractive.

It required patience.

Practice.

Body control.

Expression.

Timing.

And the ability to make something deeply unnatural feel completely believable.

He remembered his old video.

Give me makeup, a wig, and a dress. I could do their jobs better than they can.

Derek winced.

Maybe I should've kept my mouth shut.

CHAPTER 11

The Man With the Six-Pack

One month later, Derek received another job offer.

This time, the client was a sports-drink company.

Finally.

Something familiar.

Fitness.

Athletics.

Muscles.

A proper sports advertisement.

Derek almost smiled when he read the proposal.

Then he opened the costume details.

His smile disappeared.

CHARACTER: DANI VALE — ATHLETIC GIRLFRIEND.

COSTUME: WHITE TENNIS-STYLE DRESS WITH CORAL TRIM.

HAIRSTYLE: LONG BLONDE HIGH PONYTAIL.

SCENE: DANI ADMIRES HER ATHLETIC BOYFRIEND AFTER HIS WORKOUT.

Derek stared.

"You've got to be kidding me."

He called Renee.

"Why am I the girlfriend again?"

Renee laughed.

"Because the client likes your previous commercials."

"But it's a sports advertisement!"

"Yes."

"I'm a fitness influencer!"

"You were."

Derek winced.

Renee continued.

"And now you're a successful model. Congratulations."

He rubbed his forehead.

"Who's the male model?"

"Aaron Reed."

Derek paused.

He recognized the name.

Aaron was a successful athletic model with an impressive physique.

Of course.

They're going to put me beside a guy who looks like the old me.

Derek sighed.

"Fine."

Then he looked at the payment.

His mood improved slightly.

At least they're paying well.

The shoot took place on a beautiful outdoor-style park set.

Artificial grass covered the ground.

Workout equipment stood beside a park bench.

Professional cameras and lighting equipment were arranged near a temporary makeup area.

Derek arrived wearing his black T-shirt and dark trousers.

He expected to get ready inside a private dressing room.

Instead, Maya waved him toward a makeup station beneath a shaded tent.

"Over here, Dani!"

Derek looked around.

"You're doing my makeup outside?"

"Near the set. It saves time."

"People can see us."

Maya smiled.

"Yes. It's a professional production."

Derek looked toward the crew.

Several people were moving equipment.

Others were adjusting the lighting.

A tall, muscular man stood near a bench, stretching his shoulders.

Aaron Reed.

He wore a white athletic tank top and dark track trousers.

His arms were enormous.

Derek looked at him.

Then at the white tennis dress Olivia had prepared.

This is going to be humiliating.

The makeup started while Derek was still wearing his black T-shirt.

Maya applied a fresh peach-toned foundation.

Then natural pink blush.

Subtle mascara.

And finally, glossy peach lipstick.

Derek watched the process in a portable mirror.

"Why do I need lipstick for a sports advertisement?"

"Because we're filming a commercial, not running a marathon."

Derek sighed.

"I'm here to advertise a sports drink, not become a cheerleader."

Maya laughed.

"Stop making that face. The blush makes you look healthier."

"I was healthy before you put blush on me!"

Aaron approached the makeup station, carrying a blue water bottle.

"Hey. You must be Dani."

Derek turned.

"Aaron?"

"That's me."

Aaron smiled.

"First time working together?"

Derek nodded.

"Unfortunately."

Aaron laughed.

"That bad already?"

Derek gestured toward his half-finished makeup.

"I'm sitting in a park getting lipstick put on my face while you're standing there looking like a normal athlete."

Aaron examined him.

"Honestly? You look fine."

Derek glared.

"That's not helping."

Maya giggled.

Aaron shrugged.

"Just saying."

Then Olivia arrived with the white tennis dress.

Derek looked at it.

And groaned.

"Right. That."

He changed in the privacy of the designated fitting tent.

When he returned, he was wearing the white tennis-style skater dress with coral trim.

The fitted waist gave him a softer silhouette.

The skirt ended above his knees.

His white athletic trainers and coral wristband completed the sporty look.

But his wig hadn't been fitted yet.

His short natural hair remained flattened beneath a wig cap.

And despite the feminine makeup and dress, his muscular shoulders and arms were still unmistakably masculine.

He felt absurd.

This is even worse.

I look like a man wearing half a costume.

Olivia examined the fit.

"Relax your shoulders."

Derek looked down at the dress.

"Do we really need the padding?"

"For the silhouette planned in the storyboard, yes. We can adjust it if you're uncomfortable."

He sighed.

"Fine."

The removable breast forms and fitted undergarments gave the dress a more traditionally feminine shape.

Derek stared at the unfamiliar contour beneath the white fabric.

Here we go again.

Aaron walked past.

He stopped.

Then smiled.

"Looking good, Dani."

Derek turned toward him.

"Please stop commenting on how I look."

Aaron raised his hands.

"Fair enough."

But then he added, "You know, you actually have very pretty eyes."

Derek closed his eyes.

"That's not helping either."

Aaron laughed.

"Right. No compliments. Understood."

Maya, who had overheard everything, was nearly crying with laughter.

The next problem was the wig.

Vanessa arrived carrying a long honey-blonde wig.

Derek looked at it.

"Please tell me that isn't another ponytail."

Vanessa smiled.

"A sporty high ponytail."

"Of course it is."

She flattened his short hair beneath the wig cap and secured the blonde wig.

Then she gathered its long hair high at the back of his head.

The ponytail reached well below his shoulders.

Derek examined the reflection.

Why does long hair make such a ridiculous difference?

Only moments earlier, he had looked like a muscular man wearing a white tennis dress.

Now, with long blonde hair framing his made-up face, the entire outfit looked different.

Vanessa curled the ends.

Then she placed a white athletic visor over his head, pulling the ponytail through the opening.

"Perfect."

Derek looked into the mirror.

The blonde ponytail fell behind him.

The white visor framed his feminine makeup.

The coral lipstick matched the trim on his dress.

Then Olivia fastened small coral-coloured clip-on earrings.

Derek sighed.

"Even for sports?"

Olivia smiled.

"Even for sports."

Maya adjusted his blush.

Then she stepped back.

"Oh, look at you!"

Derek narrowed his eyes.

"What?"

"Our little sporty girlfriend!"

Aaron, standing nearby, looked over.

He smiled.

"You're looking pretty good."

Derek turned toward him.

"Please. No more."

Aaron laughed.

"Sorry."

Derek looked at his reflection again.

He resembled a beautiful young woman dressed for a cheerful tennis-themed commercial.

His white dress fitted neatly around his waist.

His high blonde ponytail looked energetic and feminine.

His visor, earrings, and coral makeup tied the entire appearance together.

It was convincing.

Far too convincing.

I used to wear gym clothes because they made me look masculine.

Now I'm wearing sportswear that makes me look like somebody's girlfriend.

He glanced toward Aaron.

The man stood confidently with his muscular arms folded.

Derek looked down at his own tennis dress.

I used to be the muscular guy in these advertisements.

Now I'm the one who's supposed to admire him.

He hated the thought.

Unfortunately, that was exactly what the director wanted.

"All right, Dani!" Claire called. "Let's get started."

Derek approached the set carrying an orange sports-drink bottle.

Aaron stood beside the workout bench.

"Ready?" Aaron asked.

Derek sighed.

"As I'll ever be."

Claire reviewed the scene.

"Aaron finishes his workout. Dani looks impressed and offers him the drink."

Derek stared.

"Impressed?"

"Yes."

"By what?"

"His workout."

Derek pointed toward the exercise equipment.

"He's doing push-ups."

Claire nodded.

"Correct."

"You're asking a former fitness influencer to act amazed that somebody can do push-ups?"

Claire gave him a patient smile.

"You're playing his girlfriend, not his personal trainer."

Aaron covered his mouth.

Derek glared at him.

"Don't laugh."

"I'm trying not to."

"Try harder."

They began filming.

Aaron performed the staged workout.

Then stood with a towel over one shoulder.

Derek waited nearby.

The director called for his reaction.

Derek widened his eyes.

Then raised one hand toward his cheek.

He looked at Aaron's muscular arms.

And forced an exaggerated expression of admiration.

"Wow!"

Claire called cut.

"More genuine."

Derek stared at her.

"How am I supposed to be genuinely impressed by push-ups?"

Aaron shrugged.

"Imagine I just lifted a car."

Derek considered it.

Then nodded.

"That would actually be impressive."

The next take was better.

Aaron finished the workout.

Derek watched with a bright, admiring smile.

Then he stepped forward, offering the sports drink.

His blonde ponytail bounced behind him.

His white tennis dress moved naturally as he walked.

Aaron accepted the bottle.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

Derek maintained his smile.

Sweetheart.

Of course.

Aaron took a drink.

Derek tilted his head.

Then gave the camera a cheerful smile.

Claire clapped.

"Perfect! Beautiful energy, Dani!"

Derek immediately relaxed.

"Finally."

Aaron looked toward him.

"Good work."

Derek sighed.

"Thanks."

The photographer showed them the monitor.

There they were.

Aaron, muscular and confident, looking like the perfect athletic boyfriend.

And beside him stood Dani Vale.

A beautiful blonde woman wearing a white tennis dress, coral earrings, glossy lipstick, and a bright, admiring expression.

The contrast was striking.

Derek stared.

Three different men.

Three fake relationships.

And somehow I'm becoming famous for being everybody's girlfriend.

He glanced toward Aaron again.

The man was laughing with a crew member.

Completely comfortable.

Completely masculine.

Derek looked down at his white dress.

For a brief moment, he felt something unpleasant.

Not embarrassment.

Not exactly jealousy.

Something closer to loss.

That used to be me.

He swallowed.

Then shook his head.

Stop being dramatic.

It's just a job.

I'm still Derek.

But the thought lingered longer than he wanted.

CHAPTER 12

The Hair Company Wants Her

By the fourth month of his modeling career, Derek had developed a strange collection of professional skills.

He could walk reasonably well in heels.

He knew how to hold a handbag without making it look like an unfamiliar object.

He understood why photographers cared about the position of his chin.

He could produce several different kinds of smiles on command.

And, to his everlasting embarrassment, he knew how to behave like an exaggerated, lovestruck girlfriend.

His wardrobe was becoming increasingly crowded.

Pink dresses.

Blue dresses.

White dresses.

Different wigs.

Clip-on earrings.

Padded undergarments.

Heels.

Handbags.

Boxes of accessories from various commercial shoots.

He had started keeping the items in carefully labelled containers because finding the correct accessories had become surprisingly difficult.

One morning, he opened his wardrobe and stared.

His masculine clothes occupied one side.

The other was filled with feminine modeling outfits.

This is ridiculous.

He picked up his old leather jacket.

Then looked at the pink dress hanging beside it.

How did I get here?

His phone rang.

Vanessa.

"Good morning, Dani."

Derek sighed.

"Good morning, Vanessa."

"Ready for your haircare campaign?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"How ridiculous the hairstyle is."

Vanessa laughed.

"Oh, sweetheart. You're going to love this one."

That wasn't reassuring.

Not even slightly.

The haircare studio was luxurious.

Beautiful mirrors lined the walls.

Glass shelves displayed expensive shampoos, conditioners, oils, and styling products.

The room smelled faintly of flowers and professional hair treatments.

Derek entered wearing his usual masculine clothes.

Vanessa was already waiting.

Beside her stood a mannequin head supporting an enormous dark-chocolate-brown wig.

The glossy curls reached almost to the mannequin's waist.

Derek stopped walking.

"Absolutely not."

Vanessa looked up.

"Good morning to you too."

"That's too much hair."

"It's the look the company wants."

"That thing is longer than my arm."

"Long, glossy, beautiful hair. That's what we're advertising."

Derek approached cautiously.

He touched one of the curls.

It was surprisingly soft.

"How much does this thing weigh?"

Vanessa smiled.

"You'll find out."

Derek groaned.

The makeup came first.

Warm bronze eyeshadow.

Fine black eyeliner.

Defined lashes.

Peach blush.

And muted rose lipstick.

Derek was becoming familiar with the process.

He no longer flinched every time Maya approached with a brush.

That was something he had never imagined would happen.

Then came the gown.

Olivia had selected an emerald-green satin evening dress.

Its elegant off-shoulder neckline framed his shoulders.

Its fitted waist gave him a graceful silhouette.

The flowing skirt reached his ankles.

Matching green heels completed the outfit.

Derek examined himself in the mirror.

The removable breast forms once again created the feminine bust expected for the campaign.

The structured dress fitted neatly around his padded figure.

He adjusted the neckline.

"Why does it keep slipping?"

Olivia inspected the fit.

"It's designed to sit off the shoulders. Let me adjust it."

Derek lowered his hands.

"How do women keep track of all these different kinds of dresses?"

Olivia smiled.

"Experience."

"I miss T-shirts."

"We know."

"Nobody ever had to explain how to wear a T-shirt."

Olivia laughed.

"That's because you spent thirty years wearing them."

Derek sighed.

"Exactly."

Then Vanessa began fitting the wig.

She secured his natural hair beneath the cap.

Carefully positioned the enormous dark-brown wig.

Adjusted the hairline.

And began arranging the glossy curls.

Derek watched as thick, luxurious waves spread over his shoulders.

The hair was enormous.

It felt heavy.

Every time he moved his head, the curls shifted against his arms and back.

Vanessa created a deep side part.

Then carefully styled several face-framing waves.

The remaining curls cascaded down his back almost to his waist.

Finally, Olivia fastened long gold drop earrings decorated with green gemstones.

Derek glanced at them.

"More earrings."

Olivia smiled.

"More earrings."

He examined his reflection.

The transformation was extraordinary.

The emerald satin gown complemented his warm complexion.

The golden earrings framed his face.

His rose-coloured lipstick looked elegant rather than exaggerated.

And the enormous dark-brown curls made him look like a glamorous woman preparing for a luxury fashion event.

Derek stared.

That hair.

How can hair change someone this much?

He carefully lifted a thick section of curls.

They slipped between his fingers.

"How am I supposed to move without getting tangled in this?"

Vanessa laughed.

"Slowly. And don't keep touching it."

Derek immediately lowered his hand.

Wonderful.

Now I'm being told how to move my head.

The photoshoot began against a beautiful cream-coloured backdrop.

Soft lighting illuminated Derek's hair.

The photographer adjusted the camera.

"All right, Dani. Stand slightly sideways."

Derek obeyed.

"One hand near your waist."

He positioned it.

"Now turn your head over your shoulder."

Derek turned.

His enormous curls moved behind him.

"Slower."

He tried again.

"Even slower."

Derek stared at the photographer.

"If I turn any slower, we'll still be here tomorrow."

The photographer laughed.

"Trust me. The camera needs to capture the movement."

Vanessa approached.

She gently arranged the curls over his right shoulder.

"Relax your neck."

Derek sighed.

"Everyone keeps telling me to relax."

"Because you keep looking irritated."

"I am irritated."

Vanessa smiled.

"Then hide it for the camera."

Derek took a breath.

He softened his expression.

Then turned his head slowly.

The dark-brown curls swept elegantly over his shoulder.

The photographer immediately began taking pictures.

"Beautiful!"

Derek held the pose.

"Perfect, Dani!"

More photographs.

"Now look directly toward the camera."

Derek turned.

His long earrings swayed.

The emerald satin gown shimmered beneath the lights.

He gave the camera a calm, feminine expression.

The photographer smiled.

"Excellent. That's exactly what we need."

After several hours, the shoot finally ended.

Derek was exhausted.

His feet hurt.

His neck felt stiff from repeatedly turning his head.

And the enormous wig had become increasingly uncomfortable.

He returned to the dressing room.

"Please tell me I can take this thing off."

Vanessa laughed.

"Of course."

She carefully removed the wig.

The enormous curls disappeared.

Then she removed the wig cap.

Derek's natural dark-brown hair fell back into place.

It was still relatively short, although it had grown noticeably since his first bridal shoot.

For the first time that day, Derek felt like himself again.

He ran his fingers through his hair.

"Finally."

Vanessa examined the strands.

Then smiled thoughtfully.

"You know something?"

Derek looked at her in the mirror.

"What?"

"Your natural hair could eventually do most of this."

He frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"If you grew it longer, we'd be able to style it for many of your campaigns without needing a full wig."

Derek stared.

"You're suggesting I grow it out?"

"Why not?"

He looked suspicious.

"Because I'm a man?"

Vanessa raised an eyebrow.

"Men can have long hair, Derek."

"Not like that."

"Like what?"

He gestured toward the enormous curls resting on the wig stand.

"Like some glamorous hair-model advertisement."

Vanessa smiled.

"That's literally your job now."

Derek opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

Unfortunately, she had a point.

She gently lifted a strand of his natural hair.

"You already have a good texture for it."

Derek watched in the mirror.

"Really?"

"Yes. We'd need time to grow it, and we'd still use extensions for some looks. But eventually, we could create beautiful curls, ponytails, and updos with your own hair."

Derek examined his reflection.

His natural hair looked ordinary.

Masculine.

Familiar.

Then he looked toward the enormous dark-brown wig.

The one that had transformed him into a beautiful haircare model.

Grow my own hair that long?

He imagined it falling over his shoulders.

Being curled by Vanessa.

Gathered into ponytails.

Decorated with ribbons and hairpins.

The thought was uncomfortable.

But also practical.

No more heavy wig caps.

No more worrying about the wig shifting.

No more spending hours having artificial hair attached.

And he could always cut it afterward.

"How long would it take?"

Vanessa smiled.

"That depends on how long you want it."

Derek considered the question.

Then shrugged.

"Maybe I'll let it grow for a while."

Vanessa looked delighted.

"Really?"

"Don't get excited."

She laughed.

"Too late."

Derek looked back at the mirror.

His natural hair was still short.

His face was still masculine without the makeup.

His body was still the muscular body he had spent years developing.

He was still Derek Vale.

Nothing permanent had happened.

Not really.

He had simply shaved his beard.

Worn makeup.

Dressed in women's clothing.

Modeled wedding gowns.

Kissed a male costar for a bridal photograph.

Played several men's girlfriends in commercials.

Learned to walk in heels.

And now he was considering growing out his hair because it would make his feminine modeling career easier.

He stared at his reflection.

It's only hair.

I can always cut it later.

That was what he told himself.

But there was something he hadn't noticed.

During his very first bridal shoot, he had counted the minutes until he could remove the dress, wipe away the makeup, and return to his old life.

Now he was considering changing part of his everyday appearance to make his next photoshoot easier.

He wasn't simply putting on a costume anymore.

The costume was beginning to influence his decisions.

And he was making more money than ever.

EPILOGUE

Four Months Into the Life of Dani Vale

That evening, Derek returned to his apartment.

He kicked off his shoes.

Dropped his bag onto the sofa.

And walked into his bedroom.

His back ached slightly from the long photoshoot.

His feet were sore.

He was tired.

But his bank account had never looked better.

He sat at his desk and opened his modeling profile.

DANI VALE.

The page was filled with photographs.

Dani in a magnificent ivory wedding gown.

Dani kissing Leo beneath a floral arch.

Dani wearing a pink dress and enormous blonde ponytail.

Dani holding Leo's arm while advertising lipstick.

Dani in a baby-blue dress with two curly ponytails.

Dani smiling affectionately at Owen across a café table.

Dani wearing a white tennis dress while admiring Aaron.

And now—

Dani in a magnificent emerald-green evening gown, with enormous dark-brown curls cascading down her back.

Derek stared at the photographs.

Every single woman in those advertisements was him.

He opened the comments beneath the haircare campaign.

Dani is gorgeous!

Her hair is amazing!

She's so elegant!

I loved her in the wedding advertisements.

Then he noticed another comment.

Does anyone else remember when Dani used to be that angry fitness guy?

Derek stopped scrolling.

He opened his old channel.

His muscular face appeared on the screen.

Short hair.

Neatly trimmed beard.

Black T-shirt.

Confident expression.

He pressed play.

"What's up, everyone? Derek Vale here!"

His familiar deep voice filled the room.

Derek smiled faintly.

There I am.

He watched a few seconds of the video.

Then opened the bridal advertisement.

The beautiful bride appeared beside Leo.

Her long chestnut curls framed her face.

Her pearl earrings sparkled.

And then Leo lifted her veil.

The two shared a brief kiss.

Derek immediately paused the video.

"Oh, God."

He covered his face.

I'm still embarrassed by that.

But after a moment, he looked at the photograph again.

The bride was beautiful.

He couldn't deny it anymore.

And the money had been extraordinary.

He glanced toward the wardrobe.

Inside were his masculine clothes.

And a growing collection of feminine outfits.

He thought about everything that had happened.

The teasing.

The makeup.

The dresses.

The fake breasts.

The high heels.

The earrings.

The ridiculous poses.

The constant instructions to smile, twirl, tilt his head, and act like somebody's delighted girlfriend.

He had hated nearly every minute of some of those experiences.

Yet somehow, he kept accepting another contract.

And another.

And another.

Because of the money.

That was the explanation.

The only explanation he allowed himself.

Derek stood and walked toward his bedroom mirror.

He examined his face.

His short hair was beginning to grow longer.

His jaw was smooth.

The beard he had once been so proud of was gone.

He touched his chin.

I should grow it back.

He considered the idea.

Then remembered how much extra work removing it again would create for the next modeling assignment.

He sighed.

Maybe after the next campaign.

He examined his hair.

And maybe I'll let this grow a little longer.

Derek looked at himself for another moment.

Then laughed bitterly.

"Look at you."

He shook his head.

"Four months ago, you were mocking women for wearing dresses."

He glanced toward the wardrobe.

"Now you've got a better dress collection than most of them."

He laughed again.

But the amusement faded.

He thought about Elliot.

About the boy whose drawings he had stolen.

About the nickname Princess.

About the classmates who had laughed.

For the first time, he wondered whether Elliot had felt the same terrible embarrassment Derek now experienced whenever the crew teased him.

Was this how he felt?

Derek looked away.

He didn't particularly like that thought.

Instead, he picked up his phone.

There was a message from Renee.

RENEE: Excellent work today, Dani! The client loved the photographs. We have several more offers to discuss next week.

Derek smiled.

Then another message appeared.

RENEE: One of them is a luxury jewelry campaign. They're particularly interested in featuring you with elegant earrings.

Derek stared.

"Earrings?"

He remembered the pearl clip-ons.

The heart-shaped earrings.

The blue flowers.

The enormous green gemstone drops.

And how often they pinched his ears.

He rubbed one earlobe.

Maybe I should just get them pierced.

The thought appeared so naturally that he almost didn't notice it.

Then he froze.

Wait.

Did I seriously just consider piercing my ears for modeling?

He looked at his reflection.

His familiar masculine face stared back.

But the decision no longer seemed quite as ridiculous as it once would have.

Derek slowly lowered his phone.

He had no idea where his career was taking him.

He only knew three things.

He was making extraordinary money.

His feminine modeling persona was becoming more famous than his masculine identity.

And every time he told himself that the next change would be temporary, the line between Derek Vale and Dani Vale became a little less clear.

He returned to his computer.

The screen still displayed the latest haircare advertisement.

A beautiful woman wearing an emerald-green gown smiled confidently at the camera.

Her long dark-brown curls flowed over her shoulders.

Derek stared at her.

Then whispered:

"Just a little longer."

He wasn't sure whether he was talking about his hair.

His modeling career.

Or the strange life he had begun living.

Perhaps all three.