One moment I was just scrolling through videos, laughing at trends and sipping my coffee — and the next, the world spun like a glitch in reality. When everything settled, I wasn’t in my room anymore. I was standing in a bright apartment, phone in hand, recording light on, and staring back at a reflection that wasn’t mine. Sleek black hair, sharp eyeliner, confident posture — I had become her, the woman from the screen. Comments were already rolling in, expecting her next post. My heart raced. How was I supposed to live someone else’s life?

I tried breathing slow, mimicking her presence, opening her messages, her schedule, her world. Photoshoots, collabs, events — everything perfectly curated and demanding confidence I didn’t feel. The weight of her life wasn’t physical, but it sat heavy, like I’d stepped into a reality built for someone who’d spent years designing it. Looking in the mirror again, I whispered to myself, “Okay… just survive today.” Maybe tomorrow I’d figure out why fate chose her life for me — and whether I’d ever get mine back.