Alice, a broke but clever girl, is desperate for a job. She finds the perfect opportunity, but there's a tiny problem-it's only open to men. So, what does Alice do? She deepens her voice, dresses the part, and becomes "Alex," the most awkward "man"...
WARNING: Please be advised that this story contains mature content, including explicit language and graphic depictions of violence, which may not be suitable for some readers. Enjoy the reading!
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"John?"
I pounded on my boyfriend's door with my fist, shouting his name, but there was no response. He's always home around this time, so it didn't make sense that he wasn't answering. My heart was starting to race a bit. Where the hell could he be?
I knocked again, harder this time, practically yelling, "John! Open up!" Still nothing. I felt a surge of irritation and maybe a hint of worry. What if something had happened to him?
Just as I was about to knock one more time, the door finally swung open. I let out a relieved breath, thinking it was John, but my relief quickly turned into confusion when I saw who was standing in front of me.
It was his roommate, Oliver. He looked like he'd just rolled out of bed-or maybe like he hadn't even made it to bed in the first place. His black hair was a disheveled mess, sticking up in every direction, and his blue eyes were bloodshot, like he hadn't slept a wink all night. He was wearing a white tank top that hung loosely on his lean frame and a pair of blue shorts that looked like they'd seen better days.
"Ugh, you again?" he grumbled, rubbing his eyes as if the very sight of me was too much for him to handle this early in the day. Not that I was thrilled to see him either. We'd never really gotten along.
"Yeah, it's me," I shot back, not bothering to hide my annoyance. "Where's John? I've been calling him, but he's not answering his phone. Is he still sleeping?"
Oliver let out a heavy sigh, clearly annoyed that I'd disturbed whatever it was he'd been doing-probably sleeping. "He left this morning," he said, his voice flat, as if he couldn't care less.
I glanced at my watch. It was already 11 a.m., and John didn't have work today. That was weird. He's usually around on his days off.
"Left? Where did he go?" I pressed, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. I didn't want to give Oliver the satisfaction of knowing he was getting under my skin.
Oliver shrugged lazily and leaned against the doorframe, scratching his head. "I don't know. He didn't say much. Something about going to the beach, I guess," he mumbled, clearly uninterested in the conversation. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to bed." He turned to go back inside and started closing the door.
"Wait!" I stepped forward, putting my hand on the door to keep it open. "Did he mention which beach? Or if he was meeting anyone?"
Oliver groaned, his annoyance turning into outright irritation. "Look, I don't keep tabs on your boyfriend, okay? He just said he might go to the beach. That's all I know. Bye." With that, he shoved the door closed in my face, leaving me standing there on the porch.
