"Why can't I be you?" Lyssa whispered, her breath fogging the bathroom mirror. For a heartbeat, the reflection sharpened. She had brighter hair, a winning smile, eyes like polished jade. Beautiful.
Then the glass cleared, leaving only her own face: pale skin, dull hazel eyes, lips bitten raw, and those stupid round glasses. Down the hall, coworkers' laughter snapped her back. She flinched, pressing her forehead to the cool surface. "I just want to be seen."
She checked her phone. Get back to your desk! She dismissed the alert. With a sigh, she pushed away from the mirror.
Answer the phones, call the providers, enter the info.
Answer phones, call providers, enter info.
Answer. Call. Enter.
The day bled away until 9 PM. She shut down her station and began the walk home. Liza waited at the door.
"Food on the way home? I'm starving," Liza asked. She was everything Lyssa wished to be: blonde hair that caught the light, eyes unburdened by glasses, and a smile that got her noticed.
Lyssa nodded.
The walk was quiet. Cold. City lights hummed overhead. "You've gotta get it together, Lyss," Liza said. "Performance reviews are soon. All that time crying in the bathroom won't look good."
"I don't care. They don't notice when I try my hardest. Why would they notice when I don't?" She kept walking but heard Liza scoff behind her.
Lyssa ordered a pizza to go. The walk continued, as did the silence. Lyssa hung her head, nose buried in her phone.
"Doomscrolling again? You know that's bad for you."
"How else will I keep up with the news?"
"Read it from a trusted source, like a normal person?" Liza's jabs were pointed, but she meant well. Hopefully.
Lyssa opened the apartment door. Her half was a mess: empty containers, half-finished drinks, a tower of dishes. The other half was pristine. No trash, no dishes. A perfectly made bed.
"You know, it's not that hard. You just have to start." Liza's voice wasn't judgmental, but the encouragement felt hollow.
"I'll get to it. Just not today."
"You say that every day."
"I'm too tired. No one comes here anyway. Who else will see it?" With that, Lyssa headed to bed, scrolling through social media feeds full of old friends living better, more fulfilling lives.
They'd been seen.
Late morning light warmed her cheek. 11 AM. She'd overslept. A quick rinse. Same pants? Sure. But her coworkers would notice the same shirt. No Liza this morning. Maybe she was already there?
Answer. Call. Enter.
The callers were particularly nasty today, yelling at her for problems she didn't cause. As always, she was forced to tell them things they hated to hear. A horrid feedback loop where no one left happy. Lunch was a mercy. One blissful hour to herself.
Liza waited by the door. At the coffee shop, she threw a slow, playful punch at Lyssa's shoulder. "God, I wish someone would show up and make a scene. Just so I could punch them right in their smug face. Just once. We'd get fired, but still." She laughed.
"It would be cathartic." Lyssa grabbed her coffee.
Liza was fired up. "You need to not be such a doormat. Everyone walks all over you. Gosh, it's almost pathetic. Almost." She winked. An obvious tease, but it hit… harder today.
Stop being so hateful. Lyssa stopped and turned. "Thanks, Liza. But it's been a rough day. Let's just go finish this—"
WHAP!
The office door flung open, hitting Lyssa in the side. Hot pain. She stumbled. Her glasses clattered; coffee exploded down her front. It had cooled, luckily. But the real pain wasn't physical. Tears welled up.
"Oh my god, are you okay?!" A male voice. Lukas, from logistics? Black hair was all she could make out. He handed her the glasses. As she put them on, she saw new blurs. Scratched…
Lyssa composed herself. Liza was gone. Vanished. When I actually need you, you're never here.
"Hey… You alright?" Lukas leaned in. His brown eyes scanned hers.
Too close. Lyssa snapped to attention, looking at her clothes. "I'll be okay… But what happened?"
"Some… girl hit you pretty hard. Don't see her though." He peered into the office. "She could at least act concerned."
Liza. That bitch. "Don't worry about it. I'll handle it."
Lukas looked her over. He saw something flash in her eyes. Anger? He'd always known her as quiet. Office rumors said otherwise. "Well, let me at least get you a new shirt. I've got one that should fit."
Before she could protest, he was off. She'd always found him cute but never worked up the nerve. He returned with a white blouse with a cute blue ribbon. "Try this. I'd hate for you to have to go home and change." He tilted his head, smiling as he handed it over, their hands brushing. "You're Lyssa, right?"
"Yeah… Th-thanks." She checked her phone. Lunch was ending soon. "I gotta go!" She dashed to the restroom.
Her fingers trembled where his hand had brushed hers. Where his blood sang with hers through flesh. She clutched the borrowed clothing. In the bathroom's flickering light, she slipped it on. A perfect fit. He sees me.
A shudder ripped through her. Fingers dug into her thighs. "Y-You worry for me?" The whisper cracked the silence. In the mirror, her reflection grinned back, crooked and feral. "I love that."
Liza's voice rang out. "How sweet," she drawled, examining her nails. "Bet he does that for every lost puppy in the office." A soft chuckle. "But hey, maybe you're special?"
Lyssa's fingers tightened on the hem of Lukas's blouse, the fabric suddenly rough. How long had she been there? She kept her gaze fixed on the sink. Why did she twist this into something ugly?
She swallowed the accusation about the door. She did it. She wanted to hurt me. But then... Lukas had seen her. That moment wouldn't exist without Liza. The rage cooled into something bitter and sweet.
"Special?" Lyssa's voice was a frayed whisper. She finally lifted her head. "Look… Did I do something to upset you?" Make her admit it. No. This gift was worth every bruise.
Liza sighed, leaning against the doorframe. "Sweetie, this isn't about being upset. It's just… tough love." She stepped closer. "I love you. That's why I push." Her hand patted Lyssa's shoulder as the door opened and coworkers crowded in. When Lyssa looked up, Liza had left.
Lyssa slipped back to her desk, the blouse's collar brushing her neck like a secret promise. The fabric whispered against her skin with every keystroke.
Answer. Call. Enter.
Answer. Call. Enter.
Lukas. Liza. LUKAS.
She finished her reports in a daze. Liza did love her, in her own weird way. She owed her this chance, after all. Lyssa scanned the team chat to thank her, but Liza's name wasn't on the roster. Must be offline. Typical.
The office lights dimmed. 9 PM. Grabbing her bag, she paused. Liza stood by the door. "Ready?" she asked, voice soft. Lyssa nodded, clutching the blouse. They stepped into the street, shoulders almost touching. For once, the walk felt like a victory.
"He is cute," Liza conceded, watching Lyssa trace the blouse's seam. "But…" Her voice held no malice, only weary pragmatism. "That perfect fit? It's likely another girl's. Probably someone with manicured nails and weekend plans." She sighed. "Just... protect that heart of yours, okay?"
Lyssa nodded. But inside, she wondered. Why does she suddenly care? We've talked about him before. But I've never seen them together… Was she secretly seeing him? It is definitely a woman's. Liza's?
The apartment smelled of stale air and unwashed dishes. Liza's side was pristine; hers, a chaotic shrine. She didn't bother with lights. She slid the borrowed blouse off slowly, a lovely scent catching her by surprise. Leather and cedar? She folded it atop her pillow like a relic. His kindness wasn't borrowed. It was etched into her bones. Tomorrow, she'd thank him properly.
Driven by a sudden energy, she attacked the clutter in her space. Bags of trash accumulating, piles of laundry thinning. It was a dent, but progress was progress. While cleaning, she unearthed a box of old clothes. A knee-length navy dress, bought years ago and never worn. She held it against herself in the mirror. The cut hugged her wiry frame, subtle but… pretty? Her eyes twinkled. For the first time, she didn't see a ghost. She saw a possibility.
Liza leaned in the doorway. "That's actually super cute on you," she said, a new warmth in her voice. Then her tone grew venomous. "But what if you aren't his type? What if his type is… someone like me?"
Lyssa traced the dress's hemline. Liza's warning echoed, but the fabric felt like armor. She turned. "He saw me." The words were charged with a raw, fragile hope. Tomorrow, she'd stand before Lukas as someone worthy of being seen twice.
The next morning, Lyssa arrived early, the navy dress crisp against her skin. She sat rigidly in the break room, tracing the rim of a lukewarm coffee cup. Every tick of the clock echoed in her chest. He'll walk through that door soon. She'd rehearsed it all night. But now, doubt slithered in. What if he didn't remember? What if Liza was right? She smoothed the dress, the fabric suddenly too tight.
Lukas pushed through the doors, flanked by colleagues. His gaze snagged on her. He veered over. "Hey Lyssa. How're you feeling? That door was nasty, huh?"
His presence filled the break room. Her mouth went dry. Smile. Offer the blouse. Say thank you. His exhaustion was evident with shadows under his eyes. It unraveled her. "I-I'm doing better," she stammered, fingers knotting in the dress. She fumbled in her bag, pulling out the folded blouse. "I washed it for you. Thank you. For everything. You're so nice." Her eyes flickered up, desperate.
His gaze dropped to it, then to her face. A faint, weary smile. "Just keep it. Looks better on you anyway." He paused. "You're sure you're not hurt? That door..." He shook his head. Then, abruptly, he turned. "Anyway, I've got a meeting. Catch ya around." But not before she caught a flicker in his eyes. Not warmth. Something sharper. He strode away.
Liza slipped in as he left. She gave him a bright smile. His gaze slid right through her. The door clicked shut. Liza tilted her head, voice sweet but edged with ice. "What did you do? That look he gave you..." Her eyes flickered to the dress. "Did you push too hard? Cross a line? Boundaries matter, Lyssa."
"I don't think I said anything wrong… But… Yeah. Boundaries." Her eyes darted toward the hallway. "I'll fix it. I'll talk to him." She pushed past Liza and slipped back to her desk.
Answer. Call. Enter.
Lost, she texted her mother. 'Mom, can we talk? I'm having a tough day.'
Hours passed. No reply. Same as it ever was.
9 PM again. She gathered her things and began to leave. She saw Lukas in the break room, cleaning a container. She looked around for Liza. Nothing. Now or never. "L-Lukas?"
He spun around, scared. His eyes softened. "Oh! Hey. What's up? Startled me." He continued rinsing the dish.
"I just wanted to say… I'm sorry if I was… weird earlier." She gripped her dress.
"Hm? No, not at all. Just… Deadlines. You know." That slight hesitation rocked Lyssa. He dried his hands. "Heading home?"
"Y-yeah. I usually walk with my roommate but I don't see her today."
"Oh, you do?" He seemed puzzled. "Well, I'm about to head home myself. I can give you a ride. Don't want you walking alone."
Lyssa's eyes lit up. A ride? "I'd love that. Thank you! I don't live far." She fumbled for her wallet. "Need gas money?"
"No, it's the least I can do. I owe you." He grabbed his blazer. "Come on," A bright smile lit his face. "Let's go."
Her skin was on fire. He's being so nice. She smiled as they walked. He hopped in and hastily cleaned the passenger seat. For a split second, she saw what looked like more clothes. Women's clothes.
"Sorry, it's a mess. Hop in."
A faint scent hit her. Perfume? Like the brand she'd bought for her job interview. Her smile faltered. She gave him directions. But the flowery scent faded, replaced by leather and cedar. His cologne. It was intoxicating.
Can't invite him in. My side's still a mess. But I need to thank him. The ride was silent until the car's screen alerted him of a message from "Elizabeth". He muted it. More notifications followed.
"Ugh, of course." Lukas sighed. "Sorry. Soon-to-be ex. She drives me crazy. And she's always so… forceful." He touched his temple. "Then sometimes she just… stops answering. Like she's a ghost, just haunting me." He looked over. "Sorry. Just venting." Stop oversharing, idiot.
Lyssa smiled. "No, I understand. A little too well." They arrived at the apartment. "Thanks again. You're too kind." She twirled a strand of hair, a nervous tick of hers. "I-if you want… I'd like to thank you. Somehow."
"No. Absolutely not." His tone was stern. "I owe you." His eyes averted. "For… For listening to my nonsense. But, if you ever need a ride, just let me know."
He waited for her to open the apartment door before leaving. She memorized his car's details as he drove away. Dark blue. A ding in the side panel.
The door clicked shut. Silence. She pressed her back against it, her fingers trembling as she removed her dress. She buried her nose in the fabric where his scent was thickest.
He cares. He cares! A wide grin spread across her face. And a 'soon-to-be ex'? He must be thinking of me. "Lukas," she moaned aloud, "you're so kind. So perfect."
She replayed every word. His kindness. His resent for Elizabeth. His praise for her listening ear. If each syllable were a shard of glass, she'd willingly swallow it, just to keep it inside.
Shen she pulled herself together, Liza was nowhere to be seen. Had she gone out? Lyssa went to the fridge. Only the half-eaten pizza remained. She heated it and sat down. As she ate, she considered asking Liza about—
Wait.
Elizabeth. Liza.
She dropped the slice. "That backstabbing skank!" Her rage was immediate. That's why she smiled. That's why she cares. To hurt me. She knows.
But then... "soon to be ex."
The phrase dripped like honey. Soon. Not now, but soon. Free. Hers?
The fury dissolved into frigid clarity. Patience.
She pressed her dress to her face with a deep inhale. Yes. She could wait.
She'd find reasons to linger near his desk tomorrow. His scent was enough. For now.
Instead, she would confront Liza. Make her admit it. The door, Lukas, everything. She waited for an hour. Liza never showed. Worry crept in. "What if something happened to her?"
As more time passed, Lyssa gave up. She donned the blouse once more and went to sleep.
Morning already. She awoke with a smile, then checked her phone. Early morning, and still no word from Liza. Oh well. Today she would go all out. She had the time, and more importantly, the motivation.
She found her interview clothes: a tight blue skirt and a forest-green sweater. Lyssa wasn't exactly stacked, but this accentuated what it could.
She tore through the bathroom drawers, hunting for the unused hair bleach Liza had convinced her to buy.
"Found you!"
It was messy and imperfect, but her auburn hair became a dull blonde. She straightened it, applied a light blush and some eyeliner. Finally, she dug out her contacts, tossing the glasses aside. She was ready.
In the mirror, she barely recognized the woman who stared back. A complete transformation. And all it took was a spark of love.
She headed to work early, hoping to catch Lukas. Coworkers passed by, glancing and murmuring. They don't recognize me. Because they never cared to see me. But he will.
Lukas came through the door. "—and she just went berserk. Accused me of banging a coworker because I was late. Threw a lamp."
The men with him laughed, but Lyssa's heart sank.
He was hurt. A gash above his eye, bruises on his wrist. She stood and lunged toward him. "Lukas! What happened?"
He looked at her, confused. Those eyes. "Lyssa?" His eyes widened at her new look.
She hit him? Because she thought he was sleeping with me? Eyeliner streaked down her face. "Who did this? Is it… my fault?"
"What? No." Guilt trickled in. "I ended things with Elizabeth and she went off." He flashed a pained smile. "I'm good. Don't worry. But…" He leaned close, whispering. "I need to talk to you later. Alone." He stepped back, still smiling.
Lyssa's emotions were a hurricane. "Okay!" she chirped, too loud. "What about? When?" She stepped closer.
Lukas backed away, breaking eye contact. "Just… something I've needed to tell you. After work." He patted her shoulder and walked off.
She stood in silence. Coworkers shuffled out, side-eyeing her. What are they staring at? She wiped her eyes. Black streaks. No! She dashed to the bathroom, washed her face, and fixed her eyeliner. She turned to leave.
There she was.
Liza.
"Lyssa." Malice rattled in her head. "He's hurt because of you." She grabbed her wrist. "Because you just couldn't leave him alone." She pushed the wrist away. "Hope it was worth it. Because now…" Liza leaned in, whispering. "Every time he sees you… he'll just think of the wounds."
Lyssa didn't reply. She couldn't. Liza was right.
Liza's smile cracked her face in two.
Lyssa ran to her desk, clutching her wrist. It was already bruising. She placed her fingers over the markings. It… It matches. The pain he went through. For me. We share it now. She looked around, worried Liza would appear and continue her assault. As long as other people were near, she was safe. Right?
For a moment, she thought she saw Liza reflected in her monitor. Just me. The day began.
Answer. Call. Enter.
Answer. Call. Enter.
Answer me. Call him. Let me in.
Lunch was a blur. She didn't chance leaving her desk. She'd just deal with Liza at home. She ate what she had in her desk. Crackers, a protein bar and a room temperature bottle of water were all she found.
9 PM. Moment of truth.
She tried not to think of Liza. Just Lukas. She found him waiting by the door.
"Hey." He could sense her nerves, but the look on her face unsettled him. Does she know? He held the door open. "Lyssa. About that day you got hit with the door…"
Her calm shattered. "I… I already know."
Lukas hung his head. "Oh. Figured it out, huh? I'm sorry I lied to you."
"Liza did it. Didn't she?"
He raised his head. "Who?"
"My roommate. She's been hurting me." She lifted her bruised wrist.
Lukas broke."That's awful… but, no. There was no girl. It was me. By accident. I wasn't paying attention and—"
Lyssa smiled, eyes hollow. "You wouldn't hurt me Lukas. I know you wouldn't. You don't have to cover for her."
He opened his car door. "No, Lyssa, I'm serious." He sat, motioning for her to join.
She followed, hit again by his cologne. Head clearing, she spoke. "Lukas. Sweetie. I understand. I forgive you." She still has her hooks in him. "Take me home."
Her tone was neutral, but it cut him deep. "O-Okay..." She's furious. The drive was silent.
Lyssa thought only of Liza. Her only friend. But enough was enough. She'd always been like this. Lyssa was a doormat for her. Liza was the cause of her problems. Not anymore. Friends don't do this. Liza wasn't worth this pain. She would prove it. To everyone.
They arrived at her apartment. "I'm sorry again," Lukas said, dejected. "But, do you think we could get a cof—"
Lyssa smiled, thoughts locked on Liza. She didn't register his question. Didn't respond. She only thanked him, exited, and went inside.
Lukas sat in silence, sure he had burned a bridge. He'd heard rumors about her mood swings, but this? A flat rejection. He drove off, crushed.
Inside, Lyssa put on the blouse. It was her only shred of happiness in this bleak apartment. Her stomach growled. She went to the kitchen, grabbing a knife.
There stood Liza.
"You never learn." Her voice skewered Lyssa's thoughts. "You think you can swoop in and save him? After the pain you caused?" She circled toward the open bathroom. "He's just being nice because he hurt you too. Did he even compliment you? Mention your new look? Didn't think so."
Lyssa followed, knife clutched tight.
Liza stopped before the sink, the mirror reflecting her blonde hair. "He doesn't want a girl like you. One who won't help herself. One who can't even be herself."
Something broke in her with those final words. Lyssa lunged. Her fingers clenched, not to choke, but to force those eyes to see. "LOOK AT ME!" she shrieked. "You had him! You had his hands on your skin!" Her thumbs dug into the fear-frozen jaw. "You let him touch you!" A sob tore from her throat. "And what did you do? You hurt him!" Her forehead slammed forward. A crack echoed. Blood flowed. She threw the girl to the floor, everything on the sink crashing to the floor.
Tears streamed, mixing with blood. "You don't deserve his scars! I'll carve every memory of you out of him!" She pressed the knife's hilt into limp fingers. "Go on! Cut again! It won't matter! He doesn't see you!" Her breath caught in a laugh, euphoric and deranged.
Eyes dilated into voids, Lyssa gripped the knife. "You don't get to die clean," she hissed, pressing the blade's tip above the left eye. With agonizing slowness, she carved horizontally, splitting skin like paper. Blood wept. She gasped, trembling. "Feel that? I'm his saint. You're the sacrifice." She ran the blade deep across the thigh. "Scream. Please. I want him to hear you break."
Lyssa withdrew the blade. Blood, thick and warm, dripped down the steel. Slowly, she dragged the flat edge across her own cheek, painting crimson streaks. "Look," she sang, smearing blood down her neck, over her breasts, streaking the white blouse. "Look how beautiful you've made me." Her laughter was jagged glass. "Thank you for bringing him to me." Her voice broke into a moan. She stood, leg trembling, and looked in the mirror.
The mirror was cracked. Within the fractures, only Lyssa stared back: Blonde hair. Contacts. A winning smile. Everything she wanted. It was all hers now.
Two trails of crimson marred her new face. One from eyebrow to chin, the other from her the center of her head.
She traced the cut above her eye, her reflection holding her gaze. A euphoric smile spread. "Now we match, Lukas," she whispered, the words raw and reverent. The red lines felt like sacred paint, proof of her devotion. She pressed her palm against the gash on her thigh, the sting a sacrament.
Her wide, dilated eyes dropped to the knife. "See?" she murmured to the empty room. "I won."
Only Lyssa heard the words. She leaned closer to the glass. A dozen fractured selves watched her with the same adoring madness
A smile, tender and unhinged, curved her lips as crimson droplets fell. She recalled the words that had rung in her head: A girl who can't even be herself.
She cackled.
"I'm who I want to be."