Anthony sat on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling, still processing the absolute bullshit that had just transpired.

A few minutes ago, he had engaged in the most reckless pride battle of his life, which had ended in mutual destruction.

And now?

Now, he felt like he needed to drown in holy water.

Across from him, Antoinette was stretching like nothing even happened, popping her neck before standing up.

"Aight, I'm taking a shower," she announced.

Anthony snapped out of his daze. "Huh?"

"You heard me." She cracked her knuckles. "Need to wash this parallel universe funk off me."

He raised an eyebrow. "The fuck parallel universe funk supposed to smell like?"

She shrugged. "I dunno, but it feels like a real thing, and I don't like it. I need to reset."

Anthony exhaled. "Fine. You go first."

Antoinette smirked. "Obviously."

Anthony narrowed his eyes. "Bitch, what's that supposed to mean?"

She chuckled, walking toward the bathroom. "It means, boi, that we both know damn well if we showered at the same time, that shit would be awkward as hell."

Anthony opened his mouth, closed it, then rubbed his chin.

She was absolutely right.

Even though, technically, they were the same person, seeing a full-on naked version of themselves—but opposite gender was some next-level psychological warfare.

And honestly?

Neither of them was ready for that.

"...Yeah, nah. You go first," he muttered.

Antoinette gave him finger guns. "Smart choice."

She walked off, and Anthony slumped back into the couch.

For the next few moments, he just sat there, staring at nothing, still trying to comprehend the level of anime-ass nonsense his life had suddenly become.

Then he heard it.

The sound of running water.

His own shower.

Being used by him.

But not him.

Him—but with tits.

Anthony grabbed a couch pillow and screamed into it.

To Be Continued...