The next morning, she stood before her mirror, an intense focus in her eyes. The memory of last night's disaster weighed heavily on her, but today was a new opportunity—a chance to reinvent herself and make a lasting impression. Her mind was set on one goal: to transform into someone Bryan couldn't ignore, to make him see her, truly see her.
Her first task was her wardrobe. She spent hours scrolling through fashion blogs, trying on countless outfits, until she finally settled on the perfect dress—a sleek, fitted number borrowed from a friend. It was bold and daring, designed to make heads turn. She paired it with heels she had bought on impulse, hoping they would add a touch of sophistication that Bryan couldn't overlook.
Next came her hair and makeup. With the help of several YouTube tutorials, she meticulously applied foundation, contour, and highlighter, each stroke a step closer to perfection. Her hair, once plain and unremarkable, was now curled and pinned into a glamorous style, a deliberate echo of old Hollywood starlets. Every detail was designed with Bryan in mind.
She took a step back and admired her reflection. The woman looking back at her was someone else entirely, someone capable of turning heads and demanding attention. She could feel it—the power of reinvention. Her phone buzzed on the dresser; it was Jenna.
_"You good?"_ the message read.
She quickly typed back, _"Yeah, heading to the café. Fingers crossed."_
She left her room with a sense of anticipation that only built as she walked to the café. The streets felt different, like a runway designed for her. A group of girls passed by, whispering to each other, and she wondered if they were talking about her—about how good she looked. The thought made her stand a little taller, walk a little faster.
When she arrived at the café, the usual chatter of the place seemed distant, as though the world had muted itself just for her. She ordered a coffee, then scanned the room for Bryan. Not yet. She chose a seat with a clear view of the entrance and waited. As she sipped her drink, she felt eyes on her. A couple of people glanced her way. Some with curiosity, others with judgment. She resisted the urge to adjust her dress, choosing to remain poised.
Bryan entered the café with his group of friends just as her nerves began to surface. She straightened in her seat, her heart racing. The moment she had prepared for was here. She tried to appear casual, like she wasn't waiting for this very instant, but every nerve in her body screamed for his attention.
He walked right past her without a glance.
Her stomach dropped. She stared at him, willing him to turn around, to see her. But Bryan and his friends slid into a booth on the far side of the café, laughing, oblivious to her presence. She felt invisible.
She bit her lip, fighting the growing lump in her throat. The glamour of her dress and hair suddenly felt like a disguise, a mask she had worn only to fail. Her eyes stung as she watched him joke with his friends. He didn't even see her. Had she gone too far? Was the dress too much? The makeup too heavy?
The café's mirror wall reflected her doubt back at her. She looked different, but not in the way she had hoped. The confidence she had built that morning now seemed paper-thin. She reached for a napkin and discreetly dabbed at the corner of her eye, careful not to smudge her eyeliner, though her heart already felt cracked open.
Jenna's message popped up again, _"How's it going?"_
She hesitated before replying, her fingers hovering over the screen. What was she supposed to say? That she felt like a fool? That the plan had backfired, and Bryan still hadn't noticed her?
She typed, _"Still waiting,"_ then set her phone down.
The weight of disappointment bore down on her shoulders. As Bryan and his friends laughed and chatted, she forced herself to engage the barista in conversation. Small talk, awkward and forced, anything to distract herself from the glaring reality that her transformation had been for nothing.
_"This place is always so busy, huh?" she said, her voice a little too high-pitched. The barista, busy with another customer, gave her a polite nod, but the interaction only heightened her discomfort.
When Bryan and his friends finally left the café, she was left alone with her tormenting thoughts. The glow-up, the transformation—it had all been in vain. Instead of becoming someone new, she felt more exposed and vulnerable than ever. The obsessive need to be seen by Bryan had only amplified her sense of failure. Her dream of capturing his attention seemed to slip further out of reach, replaced by a crushing realization that her attempts to change were only deepening her self-doubt.
The walk home felt like a slow unraveling. Each step in those painful heels felt heavier than the last, and her perfect curls now seemed out of place, an exaggeration of who she really was. Every passing face felt like a judgmental whisper, confirming the truth she didn't want to admit—this version of herself wasn't real. The transformation had only created a facade, a flimsy shield against the deeper issue that still gnawed at her.
Back at her apartment, she stood in front of the mirror again. The girl staring back at her no longer seemed confident or glamorous. She saw someone trying too hard, someone desperate for the approval of a boy who didn't even care. She removed the heels first, tossing them aside in frustration. Her feet ached with relief, but it didn't ease the sting in her chest. The dress came off next, followed by the meticulous makeup that now felt suffocating. With each wiped-off layer, she felt a little more like herself—raw, flawed, and undeniably uncertain.
Her phone buzzed again. It was Jenna.
_"How'd it go?"_
This time, she didn't hesitate to reply.
_"Not great. He didn't even look at me."_
The response was almost instant: _"Screw him, girl. You're too good for that."_
She stared at the message, a wave of conflicting emotions crashing over her. Maybe Jenna was right. Maybe this wasn't about Bryan at all. The question echoed in her mind—what was she really chasing? Approval, love, validation, or something else entirely?
YOU ARE READING
The Devil Doesn't Bargain
Misterio / Suspenso"Good morning," Bryan's voice was low and heavy with sleep, and it only served to deepen the ache in her heart. As tears began to well up in her eyes, Bryan's face shifted from warmth to deep concern. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did I do something...
