I never believed in magic until a freak surge of energy from my neighbor’s “aura cleansing” livestream zapped me mid-scroll. One blink later, I was standing in her bright studio, camera lights glowing, the ring light haloing her—no, my—new reflection. My influencer neighbor, Rhea, was gone, and in her place, I had to keep her audience from realizing anything was wrong. The comments were already flooding in, expecting another cheerful tutorial.

Heart pounding, I mimicked her voice, trying to follow her script. The more I spoke, the more natural it felt—like Rhea’s instincts were guiding me. Hours passed in a blur of filters and fake smiles, and the stream ended with thousands of hearts and likes. As the camera light faded, I sighed in disbelief. Whatever just happened, one thing was clear: Rhea’s world didn’t stop for anyone. The show, somehow, had to go on.