The TG Virus

The café is unnaturally quiet when you step out of the bathroom.

Just a few minutes ago you and your friend were sitting at your usual table, talking over coffee like any other morning. Now the place is empty. Chairs are pushed back at odd angles. Your friend’s half-finished drink sits abandoned on the table. The front door hangs slightly open, as if people left in a hurry.

Only one person remains.

She stands near your table, breathing a little too fast. The clothes are the same ones your friend had been wearing — now hanging strangely on a newly curved body. Long hair spills over her shoulders. Her face is soft, beautiful in a way that feels almost unfair… and still somehow familiar.

The second she sees you, something shifts in her expression. That same pull that sent everyone else running locks onto you instead. She crosses the empty café in a few quick steps, reaches up, and kisses you hard — deep, desperate, like she’s trying to pass something on.

Her lips are warm. Her tongue brushes yours. She holds the kiss for several long seconds.

Something enters you with the kiss.

Your body doesn’t change. Not even a little. But a heavy, unfamiliar urge suddenly blooms in your chest — a strong, almost physical need to become a woman. The feeling is real and growing, even though nothing about you is shifting.

She pulls back slowly, eyes wide, searching your face with pure confusion… and recognition.

“…Max?” she whispers, voice higher than it should be. “Why… why didn’t it work on you?”