Yuki Kingsley stumbled momentarily in her beige heels before righting herself with her characteristic grace. She looked down the camera and breathed a sigh of relief that the red light had already gone off, meaning she'd finished her segment. Wait, how did she know that? Her brain was a mix of contradictions; all her memories were that of shy lonely high school student Yuki Meshida, but she had plenty of knowledge that didn't line up with that floating around her brain. For instance her ability to walk in heels and innate fashion sense. She looked down at the v neck sweater giving a flash of her generous cleavage and new just how to stand to maximize her sex appeal but still had the memories of being flat as a board.
"That was great Yuki! We'll finish up filming some B-Roll, but you can knock off for the day. I'll car the company car for you." Her producer, Jake said, and Yuki nodded. "Sure thing, thanks Jake" she replied in a flawless American accent. She walked a bit to the side to examine herself in the mirror of the news van. She was momentarily stunned by how drastically different she appeared. She was still Japanese, but not quite. If she had to guess she was biracial now, with an exotic mixture of Asian and European features. Her hair was still black but instead of hanging limply with bangs that hid her face, it fell in elegant ringlets and framed her movie star good looks. Her face was now naturally beautiful and also expertly made up for camera, with her now baby blue eyes seriously popping. Below the neck the changes became more drastic, with what she somehow knew to be 34 DD breasts being the obvious first change, but it went beyond that. Yuki had been a stick before, but now she was curvy in all the right places with an ample derriere and certifiably thicc thighs, while still having a toned and tight tummy.
Beyond her physical changes she was also dressed entirely differently from the plain conservative beige dress she'd left the house in that morning. She was wearing a cashmere green sweater as she'd already noted. Over that was a dark blazer, fastened with one button in front in a way that drew focus to her cleavage. A singular locket emblazoned with the initial K now resting in said bosom. She had a forest green skirt on as well, and heels. Atop it all she wore the sash that proclaimed her a winner of the Tulip Queen competition. When had she done that? She had perfect knowledge of how to walk a pageant stage but no memory of ever doing it. She was freaking out a bit but also not entirely upset with the changes, if only she knew what caused them?
If she hadn't been so focused on her own transformation, she may have noticed the Eastern European Jacqueline Messerschmidt freaking out behind the news barricade.
ELSEWHERE
Screaming had gotten Sam nowhere, just a yell to shut up from his now much more blue collar father. Apparently everyone else remembered him being this boy for whatever reason. He needed to get to the bottom of this. Seeing his parents that morning had freaked him out almost as much as his terrible room. He couldn't remember seeing his mother ever dress in the k-mart clothes she was now wearing as she left for her job, working for someone called Mrs. Roxie, whoever that was. Since when did his mom have a job? And since when did they live over on the poor side of town with all the extras from school.
Sam forced himself to focus. Sarah McMillan was nothing if not determined, and that's who he was supposed to be. Clearly something had altered reality, so what he needed to do now was gather information. He suppressed his retching as he dressed in beat up jeans and a school tee; at least this version of him still had school spirit. He'd go to school and look for anything else that had changed. And once he found whoever did this there would be hell to pay.
