The next day Lance showed up at Brett's apartment with a black duffel bag and locked the door behind him.
He didn't sit down.
"Bro," he said, and his voice shook. "I'll pay you one million dollars to become a girl."
The radiator hissed. Brett thought he misheard.
"What?"
"To marry me. For my dad. Just for a year, maybe two, until he backs off. I know it sounds crazy but I'm desperate, Brett. I'm actually desperate."
Lance started pacing, talking faster, his hands moving like he was pitching to a board.
"You would have to pass for my father, so I'm talking real transformation. Not a wig for Halloween. Weight loss down to like one-twenty. Corset training so your waist actually changes. Fashion, high heels every day until you walk like you were born in them. Makeup lessons, hair extensions, tanning, veneers for the smile. And yeah, hormones, and possibly implants if we need them to sell it."
Brett's mouth was dry.
"You can keep your man parts," Lance said quickly, like that made it sane. "When this is over you can totally change back to being Brett. Shave it off, stop the hormones, bulk back up. You'd have a million dollars. You'd never have to count change for ramen again. You could buy your mom that house. You could do anything."
Brett stood up too fast and knocked his chair over. His face was hot. He could feel his pulse in his throat.
"You want me to... be your wife."
"I want you to be the girl version of you," Lance said, and his voice cracked. "Because she's the only person I trust. Because my dad would love you. Because I can't do this with anyone else."
The apartment was too small for the silence that followed. Lance's eyes were on him, pleading, terrified, completely serious. The billionaire's son who had everything was standing in a room with peeling paint begging his broke best friend to save him.
Brett's hands were shaking. A million dollars. A new face. A new body. Giving up the weight he'd worked for, the shape of himself, for a man who looked at him like he was the only solid thing in the world.
Lance stepped closer. He smelled like expensive cologne and winter air.
"I know it's crazy," he whispered. "What do you think?"