Feb. 6th

I want to ask for help. I really do.

But what if I'm lying? What if it's her saying it?

***

The car was silent except for the hum of the engine and the soft rhythm of tires against asphalt. The sky above the city was bruised with navy and charcoal clouds, smudging the stars. Rain threatened but didn't fall. The city glittered behind the windshield like a dying constellation, each light too bright, too cold.

Relly sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window. The buildings blurred into streaks of gold and gray. Her reflection stared back with all of her pale skin, hollowed cheeks and midnight-oak hair pulled into a too-tight bun, looking too still, too smooth, like a wax figure rehearsing being alive. She didn't blink at it. She didn't look away.

But her chest was screaming.

Not aloud, not with sound. Just this building pressure, a compression behind her ribs like a scream that had nowhere to go. Like her lungs were stuffed with needles. It felt like her skin was being pulled too tight across her bones, like her muscles were shrinking underneath it, cowering.

Jordan drove with one hand, the other resting on his thigh. He was the kind of man who made confidence look effortless. Blond hair combed back, jawline sharp enough to cut, and a watch glinting beneath the cuff of his cashmere coat. His beauty was calculated. Precise. Every detail of him curated for success.

"You sure you should've hosted anything tonight?" he asked, glancing at her. "Considering your job barely covers groceries, let alone parties."

His tone was casual, almost bored. Like he was offering financial advice, not disapproval. But it cut anyway.

Relly pressed her lips together. Her voice emerged flat, practiced. "It wasn't a party. It was just dinner."

"Still," he muttered, adjusting the rearview. "Seems a little irresponsible, given the way you've been burning through what little you have."

Her stomach churned. Her mouth tasted like battery acid. She felt the roof of her mouth ache, like she'd swallowed something sharp and it had lodged in her sinuses. She kept her face forward, eyes locked on the city dissolving past them. "It's my mom's birthday. I wanted to do something. I already forgot to text her on time. I owed her that."

Jordan scoffed. "You owe her nothing. The woman's a nightmare. Even tonight, she's jabbing at you and praising me like she's trying to adopt me."

The buzzing started again. Behind her left eye. Quiet. Tight. Like a drill boring into her skull. Like a wasp laying eggs inside her temple. Her fingers began to twitch, small tremors spreading from her joints outward. Her knuckles burned. She didn't know if it was from clenching or from something else.

"It's my money. I'll choose how I spend it."

Jordan exhaled through his nose, barely glancing her way. "Yeah, but you're also still pouring yourself into that animal shelter thing. Volunteering like your life depends on it."

She turned from the window. "It matters. Someone has to care."

He smirked. "They're animals, Relly. You can't even afford to care for yourself, but you're out here saving strays and making donations for their food. What happens when they die tomorrow? What would you save in the end?"

She looked down at her lap. Her fingers curled tightly into the fabric of her coat.

And then it started. Again.

A pulling sensation in her mouth. Her lips tingled. Her jaw wanted to move on its own. Her eyes burned hot, and her skin went cold. She felt the faintest wetness trickle from her nose. She swiped at it, fast and quiet. Blood. Not enough to drip. Just enough to stain her fingertips.

He glanced at her, shrugging. "Look, I'm not trying to be a dick. You know how I am about money. I'm a finance guy. I think in returns. This stuff you do? Bad investment."

Her throat tightened. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came. Her words tangled. Her vision warped for a moment and it was like the world skipped a frame. A light on the dashboard pulsed too slowly. Her breath caught. Her muscles locked up.

She turned to the window.

The reflection smiled.

Not soft. Not kind. A smile that slithered. A smile that watched with quiet, terrible triumph.

Its teeth were too perfect. Its eyes didn't blink. Its face didn't follow her exactly anymore. It was ahead of her now, like it had its own timing, its own rhythm. It was learning how to wear her better than she could wear herself.

And Relly knew.

She wasn't in charge anymore.

She felt her body shift, posture relaxing, voice softening. Like a drugged puppet.

"You're right," she heard herself say, her tone laced with unnatural calm. She reached over and took his free hand. "You're right, babe. I've been applying to jobs. No more volunteer nonsense. I'll make better choices. Promise."

He grinned. Pleased. His ego settled back into place.

"That's my girl. I knew you'd come around."

He turned back to the road. She turned back to the window. Her reflection lingered, sitting in the background for the moment as Relly took over.

It mouthed something again. Something different. Two words.

Mine now.

—

Their apartment rose like a cathedral of glass and steel. Sleek. Modern. Sterile.

Inside, everything was white and chrome. Floors that never creaked. Furniture that didn't remember being touched. It smelled faintly of lemon cleaner and untouched linen.

Jordan tossed his keys into the bowl near the door. "You gonna whip something up?"

Relly blinked. "We just ate."

He shrugged off his coat. "Yeah, but that was, like, a nibble. Everyone was being polite so they wouldn't drain your tiny account. Now I'm starving."

He opened the fridge. Rows of clean, labeled containers. Most of them his. He grinned. "Thank God I stocked this place. You'd live off air if you could."

Then it happened once again.

The shift. The smile slipped on. Unchosen. Familiar.

"Let's just order in," she said, her tone light. Too light. "I'm tired too."

Jordan nodded, already halfway to the living room. "Perfect."

She walked down the hallway. Her feet didn't feel like her own. The bathroom waited. Cold tile. Harsh light.

The mirror was waiting, too. The other her smiled.

Sultry. Poisoned.

Its lips curved like a blade.

You're welcome, it mouthed.

Her hands trembled as they braced against the sink. The air thickened. The lights buzzed. Her own reflection distorted slightly, as though behind glass warped by heat. Her eye bled again, this time faster. Down her cheek, mixing with sweat.

She sobbed. She didn't remember starting. It came from somewhere deep, somewhere older than words. The sobs hit her like convulsions. Her hands shook. Her breath tore out of her. The lightbulb above her flickered and pulsed like a heartbeat.

She crawled across the floor. Arms weak. Fingers trembling.

The tears came harder. Louder. Her throat felt like it was filled with glass. She tried to scream but it broke her breath in half.

She pressed her forehead to the tiles. The cold helped. Barely. "I'm still here. I'm still here. I'm still here."

But the words didn't feel like hers anymore. Her voice was changing. Her own name in her head sounded foreign.

She could see the faint reflection on the floor tile. But it didn't blink.

Only smiled wider.

And somewhere, deep inside the folds of her unraveling mind, something clawed out of the dark and took another step forward.

Something that wasn't her.

***

Author's note

hello, hello, hello.

Relly is tangled in a web that she can squeeze out of . Her mind has a soul of its own. But her spirit is trapped in a prison of its own making. Let's see what the next change unfolds for our protagonist.

XOXO

Jasmine Stars