The smell of toasted garlic and burnt onion envelops the hallway just as I walk past the glass door of the breakroom. The sickness hits as a chemical revulsion that short-circuits my whole body. Saliva floods my mouth in a hot rush.

I turn around and walk directly to the third-floor family restroom. I push the door shut, slide the deadbolt, and drop to my knees in front of the toilet.

Allison Kensington is accustomed to getting exactly what she wants, and she's invested considerable time, money, and confidence in a plan that seemed perfectly reasonable when she came up with it. Unfortunately, the software engineer she recruited at a bus stop has turned out to be considerably more entertaining, unpredictable, and difficult to manage than her original calculations allowed.

Tim Johnson, meanwhile, is discovering that having the undivided attention of an extraordinarily beautiful woman can be a great deal of fun, especially when she seems determined to pretend he isn't getting under her skin. He's beginning to suspect that Allison's confidence comes with a few vulnerabilities, and his natural curiosity is making it increasingly difficult to resist exploring them.

What began as an outrageous proposition is becoming an unexpectedly enjoyable contest between two people who are accustomed to being the cleverest person in the room. Allison may have initiated this particular adventure, but Tim is having a wonderful time reminding her that she isn't the only one who gets to make the rules.

Dieithryn Chapter 2

© Maeryn Lamonte 2026

LYANNA UNBOUND
by
Jessica D

ISSUE 1
OPEN

“Go fuck yourself, Daryl!”

Leon laid down his cards. A full house. Three queens and two jacks. This ought to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face. Daryl curled back the corners of his cards, making a show of peering beneath them.

Tim Johnson is having a thoroughly unremarkable bad day involving a dead car, an expensive mechanic, and a bus that seems personally committed to disappointing him. Things take an unexpected turn when an impossibly glamorous woman approaches him outside Maison Belle, a boutique where Tim suspects even the empty space between the dresses costs more than his car repairs.

Allison Kensington is accustomed to getting what she wants, and at the moment she seems unusually interested in a software engineer wearing jeans, sneakers, and a jacket that has clearly seen better days. Her questions are becoming suspiciously personal, her attention to his appearance borders on professional assessment, and Tim is beginning to wonder whether he's accidentally wandered into the world's most expensive recruitment interview.

Whatever Allison has in mind, she appears to have the confidence, connections, and financial resources to make it happen. Tim, who makes a living finding flaws in complicated systems, is discovering that asking the right questions only seems to encourage her.

By the time the conversation turns toward Paris, Tim's delayed bus is rapidly becoming the least interesting problem of his afternoon.

Saturday morning arrives with an emergency. Dennis has apparently been kidnapped. Again!

Steve would like to point out that Dennis is a drawing on a cocktail napkin, but he's beginning to suspect that nobody in the Blush group chat considers this a relevant objection. Meanwhile, five women are having a rather interesting conversation about their newest acquaintance, and Steve has an ordinary Saturday to get through. His laundry needs attention. Unfortunately, so does his search history.

There are chores to finish, messages to answer, and a few things Steve has never thought to look up before. He's an engineer. Research is practically a reflex. By lunchtime, his browser has seventeen open tabs, his laundry is still waiting, and he has considerably more questions than when he woke up.

This picks up where that leaves off. So let's see what Steve and the girls are up to. Life does complicate things sorry for the delay. this is AI fun. Steve came to Blush for one drink. His sister insisted he needed to get out more. She neglected to mention that an evening with five women might require the emotional equivalent of legal representation.

Now Chloe has flirted with him, dancing has happened, and the table seems to know something he doesn’t. Steve decides it’s time to clear up one potentially important misunderstanding: he’s a man.

Surely that will simplify things.

Instead, his carefully supplied facts meet an audience with excellent questions, terrible poker faces, and absolutely no intention of letting him escape a conversation. Nat wants his entire life history. Tori objects to the interrogation while quietly enjoying it. Sofia discovers that he cooks. Maddie offers assistance nobody is brave enough to accept. And Chloe keeps looking at him as though his clarification hasn’t changed the most interesting thing about the evening.

For a software engineer who prefers predictable results, this is inconvenient.

“Relevant Information” brings sharp banter, unexpected tenderness, and the particular horror of realizing that people you barely know are already very good at getting under your skin. Steve can defend his logic, explain his choices, and identify a bargain with impressive precision. Whether any of that will protect him from these women is another question entirely.

Especially once they ask about his car.

Read Chapter Three of A Life in Plain Sight for an evening of affectionate chaos, increasingly personal questions, and a man discovering that being understood can be considerably more unsettling than being misunderstood.

Disclaimer

The mirror at six in the morning, the bathroom light on, the city still dark beyond the window.

Sent By Sophia

Chapter 20: Surveillance and Persecution

A Transgender Coming of Age Adventure

A Story from THE ONE

Ariel Montine Strickland

*

The razor sits on the edge of the bathroom sink. A thin layer of white dust coats the plastic handle. The blades are dulling from the humidity of the shower. I haven't picked it up in two weeks. The dark stubble that used to shadow my jaw every morning stopped growing.

I brace both hands against the porcelain rim and look at the mirror.