In the streets of New York, a few teenagers huddled close together, watching a video on one of their phones.
"Hey guys!" Bianca greeted. "So today, I'm doing a quick behind-the-scenes vlog for my latest shoot." She tilted the camera slightly, giving a better angle of her figure. "Oh, and with me, is none other than Mei Srakova. Mei, say hi to the camera.."
On the screen, a woman with jet-black hair and striking blue eyes smiled faintly at the camera.
"Mei is so hot."
"Have you seen that swimsuit photoshoot of hers?"
"Yeah, have you seen those curves? Damn."
The video continued as Bianca continued pestering Mei. The woman on the screen, Mei Srakova, had shot to fame just a few months ago.
Young teenage boys couldn't help but admire her. As for teenage girls? Some looked up to her… while others envied her.
As for me?
Well, I wouldn't get turned on by myself.
I'm not a cosplayer or anything, to say it simply—I have a template.
"Hey, let's go, let's go! The light turned green!"
My name is Philip Andrews. I used to be a first year, political science student. Yeah, kinda shocking right? Most fan-fic protaginists are either old men who isekai'd due to truck-kun, or someone who took computer science or engineering.
Anyways, about a year ago… I don't know if it was transmigration, or if I just unlocked memories from a parallel version of myself.
I don't know what really happened.
But, I woke up on the streets of New York, with only my I.D. From living in a countryside, to the streets of New York. Same name, same face, same birthday.
Just different life circumstances.
It was confusing. I went through a full-blown identity crisis. I kept wondering—was the "me" from my original world the real one?
Or was this version of me… the real one?
But aside from that… I also awakened a system.
And honestly? That's what kept me sane.
If a system exists, then that basically confirms it—I transmigrated. I mean, in the real world, systems only exist in novels and manhwas.
But having a system also meant one thing.
That I was going to be living a very...turbulent life.
Especially in this world.
Come on, think about it, what can a normal man do in a world of superheroes and villains? It's either I die like one of the extras, or manage to survive and yet face the end of the world.
That wouldn't advance the whole plot.
So, yeah, I have a system. Not a generic power-up system, well it is kind of generic since there are other protagonists with template systems.
But mine is a bit unique.
"Hey Philip."
"Hey Brenda. Hows your day?"
"Awful. Thanks for asking."
Brenda is my next-door neighbor. She works part-time at the convenience store I usually go to.
"Can you ring this up?"
"Sure. Got a bonus or something?"
"Kinda."
I paid for my groceries and stepped outside.
Then I paused.
My gaze drifted toward a massive billboard.
Long legs, elegant posture. Her waist–slim, her curves defined. A real beauty.
Yeah.
That's my template.
I transform into women.
No men. Only women.
But hey, at least I made a good living out of it. A year ago, I barely had anything to my name. I was living off the streets.
When I got my first template, I knew I could make a living just by my face.
And hell, am I hot!
[Mei Mei – Synchronization: 40%]
Remember that woman from jujutsu kaisen. Hell, I had a huge crush on her. Though I didn't like the brother stuff she had on screen, anyways, she was hella hot right?
It's kind of weird to transform into her, but thanks to her I got my life back together.
A spatious apartment. Not too shabby, and not too grand. I had thousands left stored in my account, all thanks to working as a model.
I checked my phone. Took out a baggy shirt. Some pants, and let's not forget the panties. I know what you're thinking...
That I'm gay.
Hell no. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices too.
Because of that, half of my closet are women clothes. Some are even from high-fashion brands, I got as a gift. For free.
Being a model is actually amazing!
I activated the template. I could keep the natural light blue hair for this modeling gig.
Most of the time I dye my hair black.
I put on my clothes, and grabbed the Gucci bag.
It's important I show this off. One of my sponsors is Gucci.
After I put on my clothes, I didn't bother with makeup, I mean, just my bare face is enough for thousands of dollars.
And, that's the job for the makeup artists.
Even I can't help but admire myself.
Anyways, I have another modelling gig. A photoshoot for Vogue.
I got in my car. Then, drove to the location.
If you're asking if I'm physically fit? The answer is yes, I'm flexible too. As for my weapon, that big ass chunk of an axe? I got it too. I can actually summon it whenever I want.
And it's convenient, especially since after rising to fame I had a bunch of creeps stalking me!
Hell, if they're crazy, Mei Mei is crazier!
I parked my car. Got inside. I'm mostly treated like a VIP. And due to my height, some men look like babies in front of me.
"Ah, Mei you've finally arrived!"
Pepper, not Pepper Potts. Just Pepper Saltzman, my agent. He's the reason why I became popular in the first place, and I'm the only model in his agency. For Now. He basically dropped everyone and focused on me. Well as he should.
The makeup artist immediately started prepping me.
"Umm. Mei."
"What is it Pep?"
"Well." Pepper looked tense. "Um, I received a message from, Pepper Potts? She, um... Mr. Tony Stark, asked if you'd like to have dinner with him?"
No, shit.
"Say no." The reason why I let Pepper manage my social media accounts, is I'm not that active. Well, for my personal account, the guy me, yes I'm very much informed, but for my template? Hell no.
All my posts are managed by Pepper, but he always ask for my permission. My account is strictly for professional work.
I log in from time to time. But, I'd rather not. Just a few months ago, I received a message from some senator, and also some creepy guys complimenting my butt-cheeks. Gross.
I'm a guy! And straight.
No offense to the gay community, but I'm really straight.
"Okay."
What I like about my agent, he doesn't force me. If I say no, Pepper says no, If I say yes, Pepper says yes.
"Oh sorry about that, I smudged the mascara a bit."
"You can make as many smudges, as long as it's your tender hands on my face."
If I was a straight man, I'd probably get called-out as a pervert. But flirting while I'm a woman? The best.
The makeup artist blushed. "Oh...I'm going to grab some tissue." She hurriedly left.
Pepper stared at me, he face-palmed. "Mei, be real with me..."
"Hmm? With what?"
"You're a les, aren't you?"
"No, I'm straight."
"Right....Just know that I support you in everything you do."
I had a feeling that Pepper was thinking it that way. I've always flirted with some of my co-workers, who are mostly female models. And if I did work with male models? Pure professionalism. Some even told me that I have more dynamic with female models, than male models.