Once upon a time, there was a guy named Zenith. Average looks, average everything—definitely not the kind of guy you'd expect to see on the cover of a romance novel. In fact, if anyone had to choose someone to play the role of "hero," they'd probably pick someone taller, with a jawline that could cut glass. But nope, not Zenith. He was the kind of guy who'd walk into a room and blend into the wallpaper. And let's be real—he'd never had much luck with women. Actually, scratch that—he had no luck at all.
It wasn't that he didn't try. Oh, he tried. He'd go out, flash a smile, maybe even engage in a bit of small talk, but it never went anywhere. No phone numbers, no flirtatious winks, and definitely no "bitches," as his more... enthusiastic friends liked to call them.
And every damn time he stepped outside, his eyes would betray him. It was like his body had a mind of its own—his gaze would automatically lock on the women around him. And let's be honest, it wasn't for their fascinating conversation skills. No, it was the curves, the confidence, the swagger. Their bodies moved with a kind of casual grace that Zenith could only dream of. He wasn't even mad about it—he was just... disappointed. Why did every other guy seem to be in on this secret world of female attention? Was there some kind of VIP pass he'd missed out on?
He was starting to think maybe there was something wrong with him... or maybe he was just living in the wrong damn world. And then... she appeared.
She walked down the street like she'd just stepped out of some fantasy novel—no, scratch that, more like a video game where the main character's sole purpose was to look hot. It was ridiculous. She was beautiful, but not in that "hey, she looks good in the right light" kind of way. No. She was the kind of woman who could turn your world upside down with a single glance. And her curves? Yeah, let's just say they were the kind of thing that could have its own Instagram account.
Zenith didn't even realize what he was doing at first. One minute, he was standing there, pretending he wasn't looking, and the next minute? His legs were following her like he was some kind of love-struck puppy.
Stop. Just stop, Zenith. You're being creepy, he told himself. But it was like his feet had a mind of their own, and that mind was very much focused on... well, her. Specifically, her ass. It was... it was almost magical. Like it was defying the laws of physics. He had no idea what was going on, but there he was, trailing behind her like a total weirdo.
He tried to shake himself out of it. "Okay, this is ridiculous. You're not supposed to be that guy, Zenith. The creepy stalker guy. You're better than this. You're—"
Gone.
She vanished.
One second, she was there, and the next? Poof. Like she had been erased from existence. Zenith's eyes widened in shock. "Did... did she just teleport? Am I losing my mind?" He looked around like a deer caught in headlights, checking every street corner, every alley. Nope. She was gone.
"Great. Just great. I followed a woman like a total idiot, and now I've lost her. Well, that's definitely going in the 'messed up things his done' book."
He didn't know what possessed him, but suddenly he was off again—rushing through the streets like a man on a mission. His heart was pounding. His brain? Yeah, it was too busy fantasizing about what could have been to actually be useful.
And then—bam—he saw it. A narrow alleyway, with a weird, glowing book lying in the middle of it like a beacon of hope or... whatever the hell it was.
"This is either a really weird coincidence or I've just walked into a fantasy novel," Zenith muttered to himself. He moved toward the book, his curiosity piqued. It was old. Like, ancient-old. The kind of book you'd find in a dusty library, hidden behind cobwebs and 'Do Not Touch' signs.
He glanced around, but there was no one in sight. "Well, this could go terribly wrong. But hey, what's the worst that could happen?" With no one else around to stop him, Zenith picked it up.
The moment the book opened, the world exploded.
Bright. Blinding. Light.
"Wha—holy shit!" Zenith yelled as the light consumed him. It was like someone hit the 'overdrive' button on reality. His body was being pulled into some kind of cosmic washing machine, spinning him around until he couldn't tell up from down. Then everything went black.
When Zenith woke up, the first thing he noticed was that his head felt like it had been run over by a truck. The second thing? He was in a completely different place.
And the third thing? Women. Everywhere.
Not just any women, mind you. These women were like... next level. They looked like something out of a dream. Perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect everything. They were walking around like they were the rulers of the universe, and honestly? They probably were.
Zenith blinked a few times, rubbing his eyes. "Wait a second... this can't be real. Am I dreaming? Did I hit my head harder than I thought?"
He looked around again. Nope. Still women.
"Okay... okay. So, either I've been transported to some kind of alternate dimension where I'm the last guy left on Earth—or I've walked into some kind of Amazonian utopia. Either way, I am way out of my depth here."
He took a deep breath and adjusted his hoodie. "Alright, Zenith. You can handle this. Just... don't make it weird."
But deep down, he knew. It was already weird. And he had no idea how to get out of this.