The neighborhood is quiet, still in the heavy heat of midday. Cicadas drone lazily, their chorus broken only by the dull thud of knuckles knocking against Jordy's front door. The sound carries through the house, muffled but sharp enough to jolt her from the restless pacing that's consumed her all morning. Inside, Jordy Alvarez moves in frantic little circles, bare thighs brushing together with a sticky whisper, the hem of her stretched-out t-shirt barely covering the curve of her ass. No panties, no bra, she can't stand the feel of them, and every nervous step makes her tits sway heavily against the fabric, nipples stiff from the air conditioning cutting through the room. She keeps tugging at the shirt anyway, like pulling it lower will somehow make her body less obscene.

*(Jordy)* – "Fuck, fuck, fuck... what the hell am I doing? They're gonna see me like this. Just... big fat tits out, pussy practically dripping down my leg... Jesus Christ, Jordy, get it together."

Another knock at the door makes her flinch. She runs both hands through her messy hair, tugging at uneven bangs, cheeks already hot and flushed. Her thighs are damp, betraying her with every shift of weight, and the soft slosh of wetness between them makes her clamp her legs together in frustration.

*(Jordy)* – "Don't freak out, I said. Yeah right. They're gonna see me and, fuck, they'll never look at me the same. It's just... it's just me. Same old me. Just... with a cunt now. And tits. And a fat ass. Goddamn it."

She stops pacing, chest rising and falling as she stares at the door like it's her executioner. The silence on the other side stretches, each second heavier than the last. Finally, Jordy takes a shaky breath, her lip caught between her teeth, and steps closer. Her hand hovers over the knob, trembling, her whole body tense with dread and something she doesn't want to name.

*(Jordy)* – "...fuck. Okay. Gimme a sec!"