Chapter 26

Drasa's POV

The moment I agreed to go, panic set in. I stood still staring at my pathetic excuse for a wardrobe, suddenly regretting every life choice that had led me to this moment.

"Okay, what should I wear?" I asked, pulling open my tiny closet with all the enthusiasm of someone approaching their own execution.

I grabbed the first things I saw, a pair of baggy cargo pants that were probably two sizes too big and an oversized hoodie that could double as a tent. They were comfortable, safe, and most importantly, they covered every part of my body.

My roommate took one look at my outfit choice and burst into laughter.

"Oh my God, no!" she gasped between giggles. "You cannot, and I mean cannot…. wear that to a pool party. You look like you're about to go camping, not socialize with actual human beings."

I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment. "This is what I have," I mumbled, clutching the clothes to my chest like armor. "I don't really have party clothes."

"That's not party clothes, honey. That's 'I've given up on life' clothes." She wiped tears from her eyes and moved toward my closet with the determination of someone on a mission. "Don't worry, I’ll figure something out."

She began rifling through my meager collection of clothing with the precision of a detective searching for clues. Most of what I owned was practical, jeans, t-shirts, a few sweaters. Nothing that screamed "I'm fun and confident and definitely belong at this party."

"Hmm," she hummed, pushing hangers aside. "Okay, this is worse than I thought. But wait..." Her eyes lit up as she spotted something in the back. "What's this?"

She pulled out a pair of black leggings that I'd forgotten I even owned. But these weren't ordinary leggings, they had an intricate cutout design along the sides, geometric shapes that would expose skin in strategic places. I'd bought them on impulse months ago during a brief moment of feeling adventurous, but they'd been hanging in my closet ever since. 

"I've never worn those," I said quickly. "They're too..."

"Too what? Too hot? Too confident? Too likely to make people notice you're actually a woman under all those baggy clothes?" She held them up against me, grinning. "These are perfect."

Before I could protest further, she was diving back into my closet, emerging with a black top bra that I typically wore under my clothes. It was supportive and comfortable, but it was still just a bra.

"Oh, no. I can't wear just a bra to a party."

"It's not just a bra, it's a crop top, very cute." She was already pulling more clothes from my closet. "And look, these tiny shorts! Perfect for over the leggings."

The shorts she'd found were barely deserving of the name. They were more like underwear with delusions of grandeur, black and tight and short enough that they'd barely cover my ass. I usually wore them under longer shirts for workouts, never as actual outerwear.

"I can't. People will see everything. These leggings are meant to be worn under clothes, and this," I gestured helplessly at the top bra, "this is underwear."

"No, no, no." She shook her head firmly. "Trust me on this. I know fashion, and I know what looks good."

I stared at the outfit she'd assembled, feeling a mixture of terror and something that might have been excitement. It was so far outside my comfort zone that I couldn't even see my comfort zone from here.

"I don't know. It's too much. Too revealing. What if people stare? What if they judge me? What if…”

"What if they think you look amazing?" she interrupted. "What if you actually feel confident for once? What if you stop letting fear make all your decisions?"

Her words hit harder than I expected. When was the last time I'd felt confident about anything?

"But what if something goes wrong? What if I embarrass myself again?"

Her expression softened. She sat down on her bed and patted the space next to her. "Come here. Sit."

I perched on the edge of her bed, still clutching my safe, baggy clothes.

"Look, I don't know exactly what happened to you at that other party, but I can tell it really hurt you. And I get it when someone makes you feel small, it's natural to want to hide. But hiding isn't living. It's just existing."

She reached over and gently took my hands. "You're beautiful. Like, genuinely beautiful. But more than that, you deserve to feel beautiful. You deserve to walk into a room and own it. You deserve to stop apologizing for taking up space."

I felt tears prick at my eyes. No one had ever talked to me like this before. No one had ever seen me clearly enough to know I needed to hear these words.

"What if I'm not ready?" I whispered.

"Nobody's ever ready. That's the whole point. You just do it anyway and figure it out as you go." She squeezed my hands. "Besides, I'll be right there with you. If it gets too much, we leave.“ 

I looked at the outfit again. It was terrifying. It was also beautiful, in a way that made my heart race with possibility.

"Okay," I said before I could lose my nerve. "But I'm keeping the leggings on. I'm not stripping down to just shorts and a bra."

Her face fell slightly. "Actually, about that... the whole look doesn't really work with the leggings. Once we get to the party, you're going to want to take them off. Trust me, it'll look so much better."

"Absolutely not."

"I mean…”

"No. I'm not walking around in public in just shorts and a bra. That's where I draw the line."

She sighed dramatically. "Fine. We'll see how you feel once you see how amazing you look. Sometimes you have to see the full picture before you understand the vision."

Before I could argue further, she was pulling me toward her vanity. "Now sit. We're doing your hair."

For the next hour, she worked magic I didn't know was possible. She washed my silver hair with some expensive-smelling products she'd bought, then carefully blow-dried it until it was smooth and shining. Instead of the limp, lifeless strands I was used to, my hair looked like liquid silver cascading down my back.

"Your hair is incredible," she murmured as she worked. "I can't believe you usually leave with without styling,This color is so unique it's like starlight."

She wove small braids throughout the length, creating an intricate pattern that looked effortlessly bohemian. When she was finished, I barely recognized myself in the mirror. The girl looking back at me had hair that belonged in a fantasy novel, ethereal and striking.

"Now the outfit," she announced, holding up the clothes with renewed enthusiasm.

Getting into the leggings was an experience in itself. The material was stretchy but fitted, hugging every curve I usually tried to hide. The cutout designs along the sides exposed strips of skin from my hips to my ankles. 

The top bra fit perfectly, supportive but still feminine. And the tiny shorts... well, they barely qualified as clothing, but Maya was right they completed the look in a way that made everything seem intentional rather than scandalous.

"Don't look yet," She commanded as she made final adjustments. "I want you to see the whole thing at once."

She positioned me in front of her full-length mirror, hands covering my eyes.

"Ready?" she asked.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

She removed her hands, and I gasped.

The girl in the mirror couldn't possibly be me. She looked confident, mysterious, beautiful in a way that seemed almost otherworldly. The silver hair cascaded in intricate braids, the black outfit hugged curves I didn't know I had.

"Oh my God," I breathed.

"Right?" She grinned triumphantly. "You look absolutely stunning. Like, jaw-dropping, traffic-stopping, make-everyone-at-the-party-jealous stunning."

I turned slowly, taking in the view from different angles. It was still me, but a version of me I'd never dared to imagine.

"I can't believe this is actually me," I whispered.

"Believe it, gorgeous. This is you. This has always been you, you just needed to let her out."

As I continued to stare at my reflection, reality began to set in. I was actually going to walk out of this room looking like this. I was going to be seen by other people. By strangers. By people who might recognize me from school.

"Wait," I said suddenly, "What if people see me and think I'm trying too hard, or that I don't belong?"

"Then they're idiots," she said firmly. "And their opinions don't matter anyway. You're not doing this for them, you're doing this for you."

She moved to stand beside me in the mirror, and I realized we made quite a pair. She’s  in her carefully chosen party dress, confident and radiant, and me in my transformation, nervous but undeniably striking.

"Wait," I said, the thought suddenly occurring to me. "We've been roommates for months, and I just realized, I don't even know your name. I mean, your actual name."

She laughed. "I was wondering when you'd notice that. I'm Maya. And you're Drasa, which is honestly the coolest name I've ever heard."

"Nice to finally meet you properly, Maya," I said, some of my nervousness dissolving into genuine warmth.

"Nice to meet you too,“

I took one last look in the mirror, trying to memorize this moment the moment I decided to be brave.

"I think so," I said, and for the first time, I almost believed it.

We grabbed Maya's purse only. she insisted I didn't need to bring anything except my ID and some cash). and headed outside to catch a taxi.

The taxi ride seemed both endless and far too short. Maya chattered excitedly about the party, who might be there, what the house was like, but I could barely focus on her words. My mind kept spiraling between excitement and terror.

When we finally pulled up to the address, my jaw dropped. This wasn't just a house it was practically a mansion. Cars lined the street for blocks, music sounded from the inside, and people were scattered across the massive front lawn, drinks in hand. 

Maya was already heading toward the house, and I followed. 

The closer we got to the entrance, the more people I recognized from school. Groups clustered around the front steps, drinks in hand, already deep in conversation and laughter. I felt their eyes tracking our movement, and I had to resist the urge to cross my arms over my chest.

"There should be a changing room inside," Maya said as we approached the front door. "Most people bring regular clothes and change into their swim stuff once they get here."

"Changing room?" My voice came out higher than intended.

"Yeah, for getting out of your street clothes and into your swimwear. That's when you'll want to lose the leggings." She grinned at me. "Trust me, once you see how the whole look comes together, you'll understand."

My heart hammered against my ribs. I'd been so focused on just getting to the party that I hadn't fully processed what would happen once we arrived. The idea of stripping down to practically nothing in a room full of strangers made my hands shake.

We reached the front door, and Maya pushed it open without hesitation. Bodies everywhere, people in various states of undress, drinks being passed around, the warm glow of lights reflecting off the pool visible through massive glass doors at the back of the house.

"Come on," Maya said, grabbing my hand. "Let's find the changing area."

We made our way through the crowd, and I became acutely aware of how people's conversations paused as we passed. Eyes followed us, whispers started, and I felt like I was walking through a spotlight.

Maya led me toward what looked like a guest bathroom that had been converted into an impromptu changing room. Girls were coming and going, emerging in bikinis and confident smiles, tossing their street clothes into corners and heading toward the pool area.

"Your turn," Maya announced, gesturing toward the bathroom.

I stood frozen in the doorway, watching other girls strip down without a second thought. They made it look so easy, so natural. Like showing their bodies to a house full of strangers was just another Saturday night.

"I don't think I can do this," I whispered to Maya.

"Hey." She placed both hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look at her. "Remember what we talked about. You look incredible. You deserve to feel incredible. Don't let fear rob you of this experience."

I nodded, trying to absorb her confidence through osmosis. 

"Okay," I said. "But you're staying right here, right?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

I stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. My reflection stared back at me from the mirror, and for a moment, I felt that surge of confidence again. Maya was right, I did look good. Better than good.

My hands shook slightly as I reached for the waistband of the leggings. This was it. The moment of no return. Once I stepped out of this bathroom, there would be no hiding, or taking it back.

I slipped the leggings off, leaving me in just the tiny black shorts and sports bra. The girl in the mirror looked like someone else entirely. 

Before I could lose my nerve, I opened the door and stepped out.

Maya gushed and dragged me out of the changing rooms, right to where everyone will see. 

The reaction was immediate and overwhelming the moment we stepped. Conversations stopped. Heads turned toward us. 

"Oh my God! Is that Drasa?!"

A voice suddenly echoed from behind.