The practice room mirrors never lied before.
They showed every mistake, every sweat stain, every tremble in my legs after hours of repetition.
Now they lied beautifully.
I stood alone after everyone left for lunch, facing my reflection under the cold white lights.
The girl looking back had skin like porcelain under studio glow, eyes clear and luminous, posture straight as a debut poster.
No bags.
No redness.
No trace of the girl who used to hunch her shoulders when she felt small.
Ae-Ri hovered just behind my right shoulder, tiny reflection perfect in the glass.
She tilted her head, mimicking my pose exactly, then broke into a wide, toothy grin.
"Look at us, superstar! Matching set. One real, one… upgraded. Aren't we gorgeous?"
I lifted my hand.
The reflection copied instantly.
Too instantly.
No delay.
No flicker of hesitation.
Just mirror-perfect sync.
"Something's wrong," I whispered.
My voice came out soft, melodic, even when I wanted it rough.
Ae-Ri giggled, the sound bouncing off the glass like tiny bells.
"Wrong? Or right? You wanted to be seen. Now you're impossible not to see. Even the mirror can't look away."
I stepped closer.
Nose almost touching the cold surface.
The girl in the glass stared back with the same blank curiosity I felt inside.
I tried to remember the last time I'd hated my reflection.
The acne scars from year one.
The awkward jawline I'd hidden behind hoodies.
The way my smile used to look forced, like I was trying too hard to belong.
Gone.
All of it.
Smoothed over.
Polished.
Like someone had airbrushed me in real life.
Ae-Ri floated down to perch on my outstretched palm.
Her wings brushed my skin—cool, almost silky.
"Trade offer incoming, princess. Special edition. Limited time only~"
The blue window appeared between us, hovering at eye level, brighter than usual.
[System: Eternal Encore – Trade Offer #3]
Gain: Visual Perfection +20 (Camera-ready clarity, minor facial symmetry enhancement, natural glow under any lighting)
Cost: Self-Perception – Your reflection will gradually blur. You will no longer see yourself clearly in mirrors or photos. Others will see the perfect version. You will see… less.
Accept? [Y/N]
My breath caught.
Not from fear.
From something colder.
Something curious.
I thought about the scouts' eyes yesterday.
The way they lingered.
The way the coach's pen stopped moving when I sang.
The way Hyejin cheered my name like I was already a legend.
I thought about the girl I used to be—awkward, desperate, invisible.
The girl who cried alone at 2:47 a.m. because no one believed she could make it.
And I thought about the version standing here now.
The one who could stop a room with a single note.
The one Eclipse wanted as their center.
Ae-Ri watched me, unblinking, smile patient and predatory.
"It's just a little blur, superstar. You won't miss it. Who needs to see the old you when everyone else sees perfection? When the fans see perfection? When I see perfection?"
My finger hovered.
The window pulsed softly, waiting.
I pressed Y.
The flash was gentle this time.
A soft shimmer rippled across my vision, like heat haze over pavement.
I blinked once.
Twice.
Then I looked in the mirror.
At first, nothing changed.
Same flawless skin.
Same bright eyes.
Same perfect everything.
Then slowly—very slowly—the edges began to soften.
My cheekbones blurred at the corners.
The line of my jaw faded just a fraction.
My reflection looked… distant.
Like a photo taken through fogged glass.
Still beautiful.
But not quite me.
Ae-Ri clapped her hands in delight.
"See? Still pretty! Just… a little dreamier. A little harder to pin down. Perfect for the mystery girl concept we're building~"
I touched my face.
Felt the same smooth skin.
But when I looked down at my hand, it was sharp.
Clear.
Only the mirror lied now.
I stepped back.
The blur deepened slightly with distance.
The girl in the glass became a soft-focus version of herself—gorgeous, ethereal, untouchable.
A fantasy.
Ae-Ri landed on my shoulder again, nuzzling against my neck like a pet.
"You're doing so well, baby girl.
Three trades down.
The group feels it.
The company feels it.
The fans will feel it soon.
And when they do…
they'll love the version of you that's left."
I stared at the blurred reflection until my eyes ached.
No tears came.
Of course they didn't.
I whispered to the empty room, voice perfect even when it trembled inside.
"What happens when there's nothing left to blur?"
Ae-Ri's laugh was soft, almost tender.
"Then you'll finally be complete, superstar.
No more ugly doubts.
No more old memories holding you back.
Just light.
Just stage.
Just me."
She kissed my cheek with tiny lips that felt like spun sugar.
"And the fans will scream your name forever."
I turned away from the mirror.
The blur followed me in every reflective surface I passed—glass door, phone screen, the metal handle of my water bottle.
All of them showed the same thing.
A perfect idol who was slowly disappearing.
Even from herself.