Beauty and the Beast

by Jenny North

The witch emerged from the townhouse onto the darkened city street, her business inside concluded. She pulled the door shut behind her, cutting short the sound of husky heart-wrenching sobs inside, even as her vibrant red-blonde ombre hair flashed like a fading sunset under the streetlights.

Wordlessly, she climbed into the passenger seat of the waiting car. The woman in the driver's seat was a little older than she, with her ash blonde hair worn up in a conservative style that complemented her tailored business suit.

"Is it done?"

"Yes."

"Do you feel better?"

The witch looked ready to make a snarky comeback, but stopped. "No," she whispered.

"Revenge is like that."

"This wasn't revenge. It was justice."

"Gwyn, I don't know if I can protect you. You have a tendency to color outside the lines, but...there will be consequences."

"I don't care. This isn't about me," Gwyn responded, her voice labored and thick with emotion.

The blonde woman looked about ready to say something, but then changed her mind and started the car.

Gwyn regarded her carefully. "What?"

"I'm curious. Why include the cursebreaker provision?"

Gwyn laughed ruefully. "You don't miss a trick." She got a faraway look on her face. "I wanted to torment him more."

"But that wasn't the only reason."

Gwyn sighed. "I see that guy, and all I see is the miserable waste of flesh that killed Hannah." Upon seeing the other's reproachful look, she quickly added, "He did! He didn't force the pills down her throat, but he may as well have. She'd be alive today if not for him," she said bitterly. "But...seeing him there groveling, all I could think was, 'What did Hannah see in him?'"

"What changed your mind?"

"Hannah was a Diviner. She saw the truth of things. Of people. And while I think that guy is a worthless, self-centered prick, she saw something in him. I know she wouldn't approve of what I did tonight, but I thought I owed her that much, to trust her judgment that maybe there's something there worth saving."

The two said no more, and drove off into the night.

FIVE YEARS LATER

Zoe leaned against the bar and raised her voice to be heard above the din of the crowd.

"New Year's Eve is such a sham, y'know? Drunk people thinking they'll be different because of some arbitrary flip of a calendar page. Making 'resolutions' they know they'll never keep. But me? I know all about change. It's a need. It challenges you, especially when other people want to stop you. You know why they do that? Because real change terrifies people. Because when they see other people do it, they have to examine their own shitty circumstances and acknowledge that they could change, but they don't want to. It's easier for them to tear other people down for trying."

Her glassy-eyed companion had tousled hair and a rumpled suit and was wearing a little paper party hat. After a moment, he turned to look at her, suddenly realizing that she'd finished talking.

"Yeah!" he agreed vacantly. "So, what's your New Year's resolution?"

Zoe gave him a deadpan look. "I'm thinking about taking a yoga class."

"Good one!"

He scrunched up his face as he looked at her, like he was piecing something together. Zoe knew the look all too well. The asshole didn't even bother to make an excuse before wandering off into the crowd in search of better prey.

Zoe tugged at her dress. "I knew off-the-shoulder was a dumb move," she lamented, hating how it showed off her broad shoulders. She unsuccessfully tried to catch the bartender's eye and then tossed her sparkly paper tiara onto the bar before giving her short dark curls a vigorous fluff.

"Sorry I'm late!" a woman's high-pitched voice chirped through the crowd. It was a ridiculous affected 'sexy baby voice,' except that Zoe knew it was no affectation.

"Harper, I've been waiting for an hour! You—oh, my God."

The other woman removed her fluffy white faux fur coat to reveal a scandalously skimpy hot pink dress that was two sizes too small for her based on the way her voluptuous curves obscenely filled it out. Her honey blonde hair was done up in a sexy "just been fucked" look, and her makeup looked like she worked at a strip club.

"Subtle."

"Thanks!" she squeaked, adjusting her boobs. She leaned onto the bar to show off her chest, instantly attracting the bartender's attention. Her drink came quickly, and she downed it immediately.

Zoe raised her eyebrows but made no comment. "Kinda surprised you're out. I figured you'd be doing the midnight countdown camgirl thing with your OnlyFans supporters."

"I need a night out," Harper said as she received a near-instantaneous refill for her drink from the bartender. She sipped at it as Zoe shook her head.

"You know, when I decided to transition, I knew I'd be giving up male privilege. But you just stormed right on past all that, didn't you?"

Harper glanced at her drink. "This isn't privilege. 'Cause every guy here wants to see me get wasted. And I'm gonna get wrecked and fuck every guy here!" she yelled. Nearby guys gave a grateful cheer.

"Ah, it's the 'beauty is a curse,' thing again. Wait, no, I meant to say, 'beauty is a burden.' I forgot you don't like to talk about the itch-way urse-cay."

"I'm sorry I ever told you about that," said Harper.

Zoe smiled. "That witch did quality work. Hell, all the women here would kill to look like you do right now. And more than a few of the men."

"Including you?"

"Honey, I'm already a work of art," Zoe declared.

"If you're thinking about her for your bottom surgery, my rating is 'Zero stars, Do not recommend,'" Harper retorted as she turned to scan the crowd.

Zoe leaned back and took a drink. "Where's Beau?"

"Oh, we're officially over."

Zoe blinked in surprise. "That's...new. You want to talk about it?"

"Not even a little. Oh! Did I tell you my New Year's resolution? You're gonna love it. It's all about self-acceptance. I am going to accept that this is who I am from now on. So, no more talk about witches or curses. I am just a chick who is looking to party!"

Just then, a smirking dude came up and looked straight at Harper.

"Hey! I've got a bet with my buddies over there. Are you actually Harper McCoy?"

"And the universe provides," Harper sighed with a hungry leer. She tossed her hair and pressed her lips into a come-hither smirk. "What do I win?"

The guy wrapped his arm around her in a familiar way as they took a selfie, and he guided her over to meet his friends. As they did so, Zoe quietly hung back and watched in concern.

"Coming! God!" Zoe complained in response to the renewed pounding on the front door. She crossed the apartment and threw the door open to reveal Harper's boyfriend, Beau. As usual, he looked like he just stepped off the cover of GQ. Zoe, meanwhile, looked like hell warmed over in her loose-fitting pajamas covered with smiling cartoon pigs.

"She's not here," Zoe said, moving to close the door. "She didn't come home last night."

Beau put his hand firmly against the door. "I'm actually here to see you."

Zoe groaned and tromped over to the kitchen to make some coffee, pointedly retrieving only one mug.

"I feel like you and I got off on the wrong foot," Beau said, following her.

Zoe gave a dismissive shrug. "Can't imagine why."

He sighed. "Zoe, I'm not here to debate your...lifestyle. I'm worried about Harper."

That stopped her short. "Oh?"

"Everything was going so well. We were even set to use her photos in my upcoming exhibition."

"So very thrilled for you."

"Dating her wasn't something I did lightly! Harper is important to me. We took it slow. And I never once complained about her...reputation. For her promiscuity."

Zoe poured coffee into her mug. "Amazing how you and I never hit it off," she muttered.

"My point is, I care for her," Beau said. "And she for me. Or so I thought."

Zoe peered at him uncertainly. "What'd you do?"

"Nothing!" he insisted. Then as she held her gaze, he relented. "I told her I loved her."

Zoe put down her coffee mug.

"I don't understand. Is this some kind of commitment hangup?" Beau asked.

Zoe had a faraway look on her face. "Yeah. Something like that."

Later that morning, the tentative click-clack of high heels sounded on the apartment floor.

"So, how was the gang bang?" Zoe inquired.

Harper froze as her eyes darted over to where her roommate was seated on the couch. She eased into a cocky grin.

"It was amazing. Not to brag, but I totally ruined those guys for their next girlfriends. Is that coffee?"

Zoe followed Harper into the kitchen, nodding agreeably.

"'Walk of shame' is a good look on you. Smeared makeup, tousled hair, skanky dress. Solid 9.5."

"Mmm," Harper murmured, raising her eyebrows as she sipped coffee from her mug.

"But only a 2 for promiscuity."

Zoe slapped her phone down on the countertop between them and spun it around so that an Instagram video of Harper was visible. She was wearing the same outfit, and visibly drunk. She was ugly crying and blubbering something incoherent about relationships.

Harper looked down at the video and then back up at Zoe. She then took another sip of coffee. "That's gonna cost me some followers."

"This all-night diner is apparently as far as you got with last night's dudebro. Though some kids got quality footage of you binging on blueberry pie."

"Blackberry."

"Hilarious. Beau dropped by this morning."

Harper stared at her for a long moment, then she glanced over at the clock and started to leave. "I gotta get dressed. I've got a 'morning after' livestream, and somebody has to pay the bills. We have makings for mimosas, right?"

Zoe trailed Harper as she headed towards her bedroom. "You're seriously avoiding this?"

Harper paused at the threshold of her bedroom. "We'll talk later. My adoring public awaits!" She then closed the door behind her.

Zoe stared at the door for an interminable moment. Then she went right in without knocking.

Zoe seldom went into Harper's bedroom. Even more than a place to sleep, it was also where she filmed all of her streaming content, so it was more like a cross between a boudoir and a movie studio. In the "off camera" area, numerous sexy outfits hung on a rack next to a vanity with makeup and accessories, near a couple camera tripods and a computer desk. The open closet was filled to bursting with all manner of sexy dresses and shoes. But the "on camera" area was fantastical, with a large neatly made up bed in vibrant pink colors and all manner of glittering fairy lights strung about. It was a horny guy's fantasy of a hot girl's bedroom.

"What is this, reverse slut shaming?" Harper challenged. "You're upset because I didn't screw a bunch of guys?"

"Honey, I'm as sex-positive as the next girl. And you're no stranger to the big D."

"Sure, I like to have sex. I'm not going to apologize for—"

"Because you were trying to break the curse."

Zoe's accusation sucked the air out of the room.

"True love's kiss breaks the spell, right? So, you thought you could use sex to make guys fall for you, and that would break the curse. But that's not love, because you didn't love THEM."

"Shut up," Harper murmured quietly.

"He's the one, isn't he? Beau. You really love him."

Harper didn't answer, so Zoe guided her to sit on the bed.

Harper looked absolutely lost. "I don't know what to do. I have these feelings for him, but now if I kiss him, I'll change back. I don't want to change, I want to be with him! It's not fair!"

A tear ran down her cheek, and she sniffled and forced a pained smile. "It's better this way. I only cared about women for their looks, and now that's all anybody sees about me. I thought girls like me were only good for sex, and now..." She shrugged. "I told you about what happened...with Hannah. I deserve this."

Zoe took a deep breath. "Harper, listen to me. That's just what that witch thought you were like. That's not you. You're better than this."

Harper started to cry in earnest, and Zoe hugged her close.

"Don't worry, honey. It'll be okay."

From the outside, the dingy bar didn't look like much. But as she looked at it, Zoe's hands began to tremble. She rubbed them together, lying to herself that it was just from the cold.

Four years earlier when Harper had come clean about her curse, she'd actually talked about it quite a bit, glad to unburden herself. She mostly complained about the unfairness of her fate, but over time and with a bit of coaxing from Zoe, Harper talked about her relationship with Hannah. How what should have been just another "fuck and chuck" encounter became something more, for both of them.

But when Harper finally dumped her—abruptly and cruelly—Hannah took her life.

The thoughts made Zoe uncomfortable. For a number of reasons.

She took a deep breath and entered the bar.

The patrons' agitated eyes found her immediately, sensing an outsider. As a woman—and a trans woman at that—she was usually more careful, but this time she didn't have any choice.

She caught a glimpse of color, thinking—hoping—it was a trick of the light. After all, this had all been an educated guess on her part. Hannah had been a real person, which meant that the witch was likely a real person. And what Zoe had managed to put together about Hannah and the witch had led her here.

The woman in the leather jacket was seated at a far table. Her back was to Zoe, but her curtain of fiery red-blonde hair sent a chill up Zoe's spine.

Quietly, she edged closer.

"My name is—"

"I know who you are," Gwyn growled. "I can smell the stench of his curse all over you." She gave Zoe a dark look. "Did he send you?"

"She has no idea I'm here," Zoe said, defending the pronoun.

"I suppose you want me to lift the curse. I'm heartless. It's cruel and unfair. He's suffered enough."

"What happened to Hannah was a tragedy. And Harper absolutely had a part in it, but what you're doing is vindictive."

Gwyn nodded appreciatively. "You went right for the jugular, I respect that. Never say her name again."

Zoe got another shiver but pressed on.

"You were close. Obviously. I won't pretend to know how close. But I know what it's like to lose people to the darkness the way you lost...her."

"You don't know anything."

Zoe sat down across from the witch. "I know depression. To put on a brave face as the darkness closes in. To be unable to remember any of the good times, but even worse to be unable to imagine a brighter future. To feel rage and sorrow when you lose someone close to you to the darkness, knowing they were quietly suffering day by day right in front of you. Wishing you'd known because maybe then you could have helped, but feeling powerless since deep down you wonder if they would have even let you help."

Zoe leaned closer. "You went looking for vengeance on the one person you could hold accountable."

Gwyn raised her eyebrows and nodded slowly.

"So, our little blonde bimbo has fallen for someone, and now she's stuck. She's finally feeling genuine human emotion for someone other than herself, but she can't be with him. See, that right there is perfect karmic balance. That's exactly where he left Hannah."

"Balance," Zoe echoed. "Fine. Say she's getting what's coming to her. But where in your karmic equation do you take responsibility for his heartbreak? You're hurting two people, not just one. Or is some collateral damage okay?"

Gwyn regarded her for a long moment.

"All right," she said finally. "But there's a price to be paid. Are you prepared to pay it?"

"Me?"

"It's more of a choice, really, but it's a simple one. If she wants to be with her man, I'll let her stay as a woman. Or...I can turn you into one."

"W-What?"

Gwyn shrugged. "You've seen what I can do. You're obviously on a path, but you've gone as far as your money, medical science, and your own biology will allow you to go. I can take you the rest of the way. But that's the price. You, or her. It's time to choose."

The weeks that followed were difficult for Zoe. She tried to focus on work, but she was preoccupied. She found herself looking at women she passed on the street. Before she transitioned, she used to do that with a sense of yearning and envy, but it had been a while since she'd felt that way. But now those feelings had come bubbling back to the surface.

Harper, predictably, had hit the roof when Zoe told her she'd gone to see the witch. And it had taken no small amount of convincing for Zoe to assure her that she'd convinced the witch to lift that portion of the curse. A task made more difficult since Zoe withheld telling Harper the price of that largesse. But there was nothing to be gained from it. After all, it wasn't like anything had changed.

Harper had been reluctant to put that to the test, but she finally caved after Zoe arranged for her to meet with Beau and rather snappishly pushed her to go see him.

But any misgivings Zoe had about her decision evaporated the following morning when a doe-eyed Harper returned from her date. She was radiant. Beaming. Three times she told the story of how it went, her fears and misgivings, and that perfect toe-curling kiss they shared...and everything that happened after. She had the look on her face of someone who never expected to be happy, and now marveled at her own good fortune.

"I'm really happy for you," Zoe said. And somewhat to her surprise, she meant it.

After that, Harper and Beau were practically inseparable. Although somewhat annoyingly in Zoe's estimation, since Harper wouldn't shut up about Beau, or his photography, or his upcoming exhibition, or the cute way that he'd surprise her with flowers...

So, Zoe had been understandably dubious when Harper presented her with the invitation to Beau's new gallery showing.

"We'd really like it if you could come," Harper said.

Zoe raised an eyebrow.

"Fine. I'm not going to know anybody there," Harper confessed. "These are Beau's friends."

Zoe sighed heavily. "Honey, this isn't really my kind of thing. Those people are—"

"There's an open bar."

"Anything for a friend," Zoe amended.

The open bar wasn't cutting it, Zoe thought. Not for this. The side-eye glances, the disapproving looks. Constant reminders that she wasn't their kind of people. Even the trans-supportive ones who approached her did so in a performative way, making a point to refer to themselves as allies.

She downed the rest of her drink.

Harper came breezing out of the crowd, her bright red dress a sharp contrast against all the black suits and dresses. She immediately grabbed onto Zoe's arm and hugged it.

"This is really—"

"I know."

"They're all so—"

"I know."

"I just want to—"

"I know."

They moved through the gallery together, admiring Beau's photos. Zoe had to admit he had talent. They were beautifully composed, and obviously designed to provoke a reaction. Though she felt that the "Seven Deadly Sins" theme was heavy-handed. They paused before the photos in the "Vanity" group.

"Which one is yours?" Zoe said.

"I'm not sure," Harper said, her eyes flitting up and down the wall. "He took a bunch of photos. He's always taking photos."

"I love that you're excited to be seen as vain."

"Better than gluttony," Harper teased, sticking out her tongue.

Suddenly, Zoe became aware of a strange energy from the crowd. Her anger flared as she again picked up on the disapproving looks and little whispered comments.

Except they weren't being directed at her.

Harper, puzzled, turned around when she saw another area, lit more dimly than the rest.

"Harper, honey, maybe we should—"

It was too late. Harper made her way into the darkened area, and this time there was little question that people were looking right at her as she passed, whispering to each other.

The gaudy neon lettering on the wall read: LUST.

Unlike the other areas which had multiple subjects, here there was only one: Harper. Smaller photos hung around the edges, obviously some of her most prurient and erotic content from her OnlyFans site. But the centerpiece was a massive picture of Harper's bedroom, where a larger-than-life and fully naked Harper was perched on the bed. She was smiling in a decidedly X-rated pose, her legs spread wide towards the video camera as various sex toys lay nearby. Other photos showed a lengthy list of lewd and salacious comments from her viewers.

Nobody said anything as a dumbfounded Harper stared at the display, but eventually people started to take pictures of her standing in front of her own exhibition. At first Harper seemed to be in shock, but her mood suddenly shifted as she angrily brushed past Zoe, over to where Beau was standing.

The young couple quickly fell to arguing, with Beau trying to keep Harper from making a scene. He'd moved them off to one side, but it was punctuated by Beau very clearly saying, "This is who you are!"

Zoe had been standing a respectful distance away, but as he said it, she immediately flashed back to a moment from her own life. She'd been living full-time as a woman for several months when she came out to her parents, who’d reacted as badly as she'd feared. The emotional crescendo had been when her mother grabbed a family photo of Zoe as a smiling boy and waved it angrily at her with those same exact words. THIS IS WHO YOU ARE.

They weren't just words, she knew. It was the utter rejection of yourself as a person, being told that another person's image of you meant more to them than who you actually were.

The memory rocked Zoe so much that it took her a moment to realize that Harper was gone. Beau was still standing there, giving a dismissive "Whatcha gonna do?" grin to his admiring guests.

Zoe caught up to her in a cluttered back room of the gallery. Harper was sobbing, and Zoe quietly took her into her arms. She didn't say anything, and just ran her hand along Harper's blonde hair comfortingly and made soft soothing noises.

After a while Harper spent herself crying, and Zoe pulled back and gently wiped away her tears.

Harper sniffled and stared at Zoe quietly. The two women made long eye contact, and then Harper furrowed her brow just slightly as though she was just noticing something.

Tentatively at first, and then much more urgently, Harper leaned in for a kiss.

Their kiss was more desperate than gentle, a fervent need that had long gone unanswered. A connection far more than just the physical. And it might have gone on longer if not for the swift and sudden transformation that took place.

They parted again, and a confused man stood in Harper's place. He looked ridiculous in her makeup and earrings, wearing her dress that was much too small for him. He looked down at where his big male feet had torn right out of the high heels he'd been wearing just a moment before.

He looked back up into Zoe's face, who didn't seem particularly surprised.

"I didn't— I-I mean, I never—"

"I know," Zoe said as she leaned in for another kiss. This time when they parted she made kind of an amused little smile as she cupped his cheek in her hand.

"This isn't what I wanted for you," he said.

"It'll be okay," she assured him.

He nodded slowly, but then looked at her more seriously. "There's something I have to do."

As the door to the bar opened, a sliver of reflected sunlight sneaked inside, penetrating the dim interior. For a fleeting moment the glimmer of light came to rest on the woman seated in back, giving her red-blonde hair the appearance of a luminous sunrise.

The couple who entered obviously didn't belong there. The bartender recognized the woman from her previous visit, but the man was an oddity. He might have been one of the corporate douchebags who worked on Wall Street or Madison Avenue, although this one seemed less self-possessed.

They held hands, and as they approached the witch, she didn't turn to look at them. They edged around to the other side of her table so that they were standing in front of her together.

The witch regarded them with a placid expression on her face. Her eyes flitted downwards towards the open seats, and she watched as the young couple sat down. They were still holding hands on the table, and the witch regarded their clasped fingers quietly for a long moment before looking directly into Harper's eyes.

Harper's mouth moved wordlessly for a moment as he struggled to find the words. "Listen—" he began.

"Don't."

Her tone of voice wasn't sharp, merely neutral. But definitive.

"Just...don't," Gwyn repeated. "I know why you're here. I know what you want to tell me. And I...appreciate...how much courage it took for you to come here. Both of you. Some part of me even wants to hear you say it. And I know that Hannah would be glad that you found a second chance. Not everybody does. And this has run its course, and I can live with that. But sitting here right now, I'm not ready for you to talk to me about her."

Harper nodded quietly.

Zoe squirmed slightly and interjected, "I told him not to come, but he wouldn't listen."

"So, you came with him anyway." A rueful smile passed Gwyn's lips. "Hannah usually jumped in after me," she sighed as she took a drink from her glass.

Zoe regarded the witch. "You lied to me."

Harper stiffened up. "Um, Zoe, maybe we don't need to—"

"It was never in my power to break the curse," Gwyn interrupted as she glanced over at Harper. "Only you could do that." Then her eyes cut over to Zoe. "Though I may have...implied...that things were different than they were."

"You're a very cruel person," Zoe said. There was no malice in her words, which almost made it worse.

Gwyn's lip twisted into a sardonic little grin. "I suppose I should be grateful you didn't use the word 'wicked.' I wasn't always like this. But we are who we are."

She reached down and finished the contents of her glass.

"However, I'm glad you're both here. Whatever else I may be, I'm a woman of my word."

"Meaning...?" Harper said apprehensively.

"When your lady love was last here, I made her an offer. Now, I intend to make good."

Zoe straightened up. "You don't mean—?"

"I do. I can transform one of you to leave here as a woman if you wish. No strings, no tricks. Or you can walk away. Up to you."

Harper looked at her incredulously. "Do you honestly think we can trust y—?"

"We can," Zoe interjected. Both Harper and Gwyn seemed surprised by her assertion.

Harper leaned closer to Zoe and squeezed her hand a little tighter. "But...this is what you want, right? What you've always wanted?"

Zoe's eyes narrowed. "Meaning you want me to change to be the kind of woman you can be with?"

"That's not—I didn't—" Harper sputtered. "I never said..." His eyes cut between Zoe, whose eyes had picked up a mischievous little sparkle, and Gwyn, who was giving him a very intense look.

"That's a joke. She's kidding," Harper said to Gwyn.

"There's always the other option," Gwyn offered.

Zoe snorted out a laugh at the implication. Then she did a double-take as she saw Harper's pensive expression.

"You deserve...the person you fell in love with," he said.

"Don't you think that's my decision?" Zoe countered.

"Zoe, you don't know what I was like when I was...this. I don't want to be like that anymore. But in a million years, I'd never want to stand in the way of you getting what you've wanted your whole life."

She smiled gently and touched his hair. "Always the little drama queen," she sighed. "I told you, I'm already a work of art."

Gwyn stood up from her chair. "Let me know what you decide."

She moved over to one of the barstools, and the bartender brought her a drink. He then glanced over at the table with the young couple, watching as the woman gave the man a playful smack upside the head and then leaned in to kiss him.

"Young love, huh?"

"I wouldn't know," Gwyn said.

He watched them a moment longer. "You already know what they're going to decide, don't you?"

"Of course. But if I told them, they'd have assumed I was lying."

"Not easy being wicked, huh?"

She gave him a sideways grin. "Beast."

THE END