A Transformation Like Magic

Mia and Wes continued with their shopping endeavor at a smooth pace.

At first, whenever Mia decided on a specific item for him, she would change her mind once she saw the price tag. “F-Forget that. Maybe there's something better over here,” she would say. By the fourth time, Wes could no longer bear the sight and had to step in.

“I'll pay for it.”

“H-Huh? No-”

“Mia, that's not fair. I’m the one wearing them, anyway.”

She pouted. “B-But I’m the one who decided to bring you here, so…”

“Okay, how about this?” he exhaled, “Just take all that you like, but we’re not buying them. Let’s have a look at each one later and only get the thing you can afford. That way, I can still see other styles and designs that fit me. Does that work?"

“Yes! Good idea!”

Little did she know that he would be going home at the end of the day with each and every piece of clothing she so much as touched, together with the dresses and skirts he happened to catch her peeking at in the women’s aisle.

They settled on a navy blazer, a white shirt, gray pants, and loafers. The chic and modern style was quite refreshing for a model who'd donned a range of ‘unique’ apparel. She made sure to ask for his opinion before committing to it, and he couldn't be happier to choose for himself for once.

At the counter, the air was palpably heavy. Not a single word was uttered between them and the manager-turned-cashier, who appeared to be on the verge of collapse. Once done paying, they made their way to the salon.

Wes stopped at the entrance, causing Mia to do the same.

“I-Is something wrong?”

“No,” he breathed, “It’s nothing.”

Deny it as he might, that second’s pause did not escape her notice. He must've appeared like he's stepping onto a battlefield, and he did feel like it. With such a stiff posture, he wouldn't be able to hide his perturbation.

“Say, Mia, are you often on social media?”

She placed a hand on her cheek daintily. “You mean, o-online?”

It was quite random for a topic, he admitted. The words had come out before he could stop himself. But he had to get it off his chest somehow.

“Actually, I… I broke my phone last month, so I haven’t had the chance lately.”

He whipped his head to her, concern on his face. “It’s broken? Then, how…?”

“I-I used my old phone to contact you... Um, why did you ask, by the way?”

“Well… You said ‘lately.’ So, then, you were active before. What sort of things did you do exactly? Like, uh… I mean, you’re fond of fashion, and you know a lot about it. Do you scroll through certain websites, read magazines, join forums…?” At this point, she was giving him a perplexed gaze; he had to cut to the chase. “...Do you know any models?”

“Models? Hmm…” She pondered for a moment. “T-To tell the truth, I care more about what they’re wearing than who they are, and so, um… Sorry, I don’t know any in particular.”

“You don’t recall their faces, at least?”

“N-Not really... For me, they all look the same, l-like mannequins with different sizes and shapes…”

He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved about that or incredulous. “And movies? Do you watch them?”

“Um, I only watch fashion shows and the news.”

“Know any actor?”

“No… J-Jenny follows many celebrities, though, and she keeps me in the loop. So, um… I-I-I’m not living under a rock, okay?”

Wes was so caught up in his inner dilemma that he didn’t notice Mia's abashed reaction. Her cheeks were tinted pink in what seemed to be shame rather than embarrassment. It did sound like he was interrogating someone he suspected to be behind the times.

He chuckled, “I’m just curious. That’s all.”

Looking back at the salon’s entrance, he tightened his expression. He didn’t mind if Mia discovered his true identity, but a big part of him still wanted to keep it a secret, fearing that the revelation would change their current relationship. Going by her answers, though, he deemed it unlikely that she would recognize who he was.

Still, he could never be too certain.

“It will be fine, Wes.” She raised a hand and timidly gave him an encouraging pat on the back. “I have an idea what will be good for you, e-even if I don't know any models or actors… You’ll be just as p-perfect as you are now after this, only a bit clearer to others.”

Wes was moved, but that wasn't exactly the issue.

This was why he wanted to shop for clothes first before going to the salon. To him, the place screamed dead end—a line drawn to remind him that this was the furthest his lies could reach. The illusion would be dispelled after only a few strokes of a brush and a quick wipe.

“Oh. My. Goodness.”

And half an hour later, that was exactly what happened.

The aftermath of his makeover, as expected, set off a wave of shock. From behind him, the stylist stood stunned while other people rushed over, making a spectacle out of him. Eager chatter sprawled around the room and showed no sign of ceasing.

“Hey, are you seeing this?”

“What an eye candy~!”

“So handsome!”

“Is he really that guy earlier?”

“Wait, isn't he familiar?”

Wes swallowed hard. ‘This is bad.’

---

Mia sat nonplussed as droves of people appeared seemingly out of nowhere and obstructed her view.

She’d been watching Wes and the stylist the entire time, but right when she was about to see the outcome, an uproar began to stir inside the salon. All she could do was watch from her seat at the corner, clueless as to what had led everyone into a frenzy like this.

‘What happened to Wes?’ She stood up, but then stopped at the crowd obscuring her path, body growing tense. ‘Too many… Maybe let's just wait here until-’

“Mia.”

To her surprise, Wes came to her instead—in all his glorious, jaw-dropping transformation.

With his once disheveled hair now groomed and his glasses removed, he became quite the blinding vision. It was as Mia had predicted after getting a close-up view of his face earlier. His well-developed figure complemented his new outfit, and his sharp yet refined frame added to the dignified image—definitely a class-A.

“Mia,” he called once more, pulling her out of her thoughts.

He stepped closer to her, tons of eyes in tow. Despite the positive reactions around him, he peered at her wearily, a visible crease in his brow. She found nothing that warranted such an expression, though.

“How do I look?” he whispered, on edge.

Her lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Y-You look great, Wes! All according to plan.”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“...Is that all?”

Mia blinked in confusion, sensing he was expecting a different response. She wanted to ask what he himself felt about this change. But at the moment, she's starting to get a tad too dazzled by his looks.

This could be bad for the heart.

“O-On second thought, perhaps...”

He straightened up. “Yeah?”

“...Great doesn’t do you justice. Y-You look incredibly astounding, Wes.”

Wes regarded her in contemplative silence for a few seconds, then finally mirrored her smile. Unsure if he was really convinced, she scrambled for more words to praise him with; he deserved to hear them. That was until the murmurs around them became louder—too loud for her to keep ignoring.

“Who's that? Her girlfriend?”

“She dressed too plainly, compared to him. What was she thinking?”

“Could be his maid, just with a pretty face.”

Their stares burned holes into her skin—a mix of jealousy, disbelief, and curiosity. While no stranger to judgment and criticism, she never did get used to it.

In that second, her sight slowly dimmed and blurred out of focus, as though escaping from the attention before her body itself could. Her insides shook in alarm, and her breathing picked up. She broke into a cold sweat, limbs once tense now frozen.

‘Scary… I almost forgot how scary this is…’