Mood: Convinced I have carbon monoxide poisoning. Goal: Find a hospital.
7:30 AM: Woke up in a studio apartment that is much nicer than my old one, but smells faintly of... sandalwood? I don't own candles, they are a fire hazard if left unchecked. In the mirror. Still me, but my skin looks suspiciously poreless. Is this a filter? Is life a filter now?
9:00 AM: Arrived at "Vane Enterprises." The keycard I found worked. A man who looks like he was sculpted by an angry Greek god stormed past me. The air behind him felt like a physical weight. I thought I was having a stroke. I asked the receptionist if the HVAC system was leaking. She looked at me like I was the crazy one and whispered, "He's an Unmated Alpha, Miss Park. His pheremones can feel heavy."
2:00 PM: I've spent four hours at my desk searching. "What is an Omega?" "Why is my boss sniffing the air like a bloodhound?" "Legal rights of a Beta in the workplace."
11:00 PM: I am in a BL webnovel. I am a secondary character. I am a "Beta," which apparently means I am the only person in this place with a functioning frontal lobe.