Mirror Image

Chapter 7

As they stepped into the mall, the buzz of activity filled the air. John walked slightly ahead of Emma, his movements drawing subtle attention from the people they passed. His gait was smooth and deliberate, almost too polished for someone casually walking to a haircut. Dressed in Emma's androgynous clothing, he seemed to toe the line between masculine and feminine, causing more than one passerby to steal a glance, their expressions flickering with curiosity.

Emma noticed the attention but kept her thoughts to herself. They're trying to figure him out too, she mused, her lips twitching into a faint smile. It wasn't cruel amusement—more like intrigue. John's presence was undeniably striking in a way she hadn't quite expected.

As they approached the directory to find the nearest salon, Emma casually mentioned, "You know, with everything that's been going on, maybe it's time you got a proper haircut."

John turned to her, arching a brow. "You think so? I mean, I don't think it's that bad." He ran his fingers through his hair—an unconscious gesture he'd picked up from his VR experience. His hair was slightly overgrown, brushing just above the nape of his neck. Not quite long enough to tie back, but longer than the average guy's cut.

Emma smirked. "Trust me, it's overdue. Besides, if you're going to pick up some new clothes today, might as well get the full refresh." She kept her tone light, though she was already scanning for the nearest salon.

"Alright, fine," John said with a shrug. "Lead the way."

After checking the directory, Emma spotted a salon called Aurora Styles, a sleek establishment near the mall's center. She noted the other salons nearby were packed with customers spilling into waiting areas. Emma glanced at John and, without missing a beat, said, "Aurora looks good, and there's no wait. Let's try there."

John nodded, not giving it much thought as they headed toward the salon.

The glass doors of Aurora Styles slid open with a soft chime, and a stylist with a bright smile and cropped pink hair greeted them. Her name tag read "Mila" in neat cursive.

"Good morning!" Mila's eyes flicked to John, her smile widening slightly. "Looking for a cut today?"

"Yeah, just a quick trim," John replied casually, unaware of the impression he was making.

"Come on back," Mila said, gesturing to a chair. As John sat, he crossed his legs neatly at the ankle and rested his hands delicately on the armrests, his posture composed and deliberate. Mila arched a brow, her stylist instincts kicking in. He's got a certain grace. Doesn't seem like he's trying to look masculine—or feminine, for that matter. But... interesting.

Emma, taking a seat in the waiting area, noticed Mila's intrigued expression and smirked to herself. She's picking up on it too.

Mila began combing through John's hair, her practiced fingers teasing apart the strands. "Alright," she said, her tone thoughtful. "Your hair's a bit of an in-between length. I think I'll shape it up, give it some layers, and clean up the edges. Sound good?"

"Yeah, whatever works," John said with a shrug.

Mila paused, her sharp eyes catching his relaxed, almost nonchalant posture. The way he tilted his head, the delicate angle of his neck—it all spoke to someone comfortable with subtle femininity. He's got a face for it too, she mused. Soft features, high cheekbones... Hmm, maybe I'll lean into that vibe a bit. He seems like he'd suit it.

With her decision made, Mila worked quickly but carefully, snipping away with precision. She didn't go overtly feminine—just enough to soften the overall look. Layers framed John's face, tapering slightly at the back while maintaining a natural, almost effortless style. It was a cut that could pass as androgynous or feminine, depending on the outfit and demeanor of the wearer.

As Mila shaped his hair, she noticed a few stray hairs on his cheeks and some uneven brows. "Want me to clean these up while we're at it?" she asked, holding up the tweezers.

"Sure," John replied, barely paying attention.

Mila deftly plucked away stray hairs, shaping his brows subtly but keeping a natural, slightly masculine look. She brushed away the faint hairs on his cheeks, giving his face a cleaner, smoother appearance. Stepping back, she admired her work. Perfect. Subtle but sharp. It complements the way he carries himself.

When Mila spun the chair around, John blinked at his reflection. His hair, now neatly layered, seemed lighter, fuller, and somehow more stylish. The way it framed his face made his features appear more symmetrical, almost delicate. But John, oblivious to the nuances, simply nodded. "Looks good, thanks."

Mila smiled, satisfied with her handiwork. "Glad you like it. You've got great bone structure—makes the cut pop."

John raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, standing up and brushing the loose hairs from his shoulders. Emma joined him, her expression carefully neutral as she gave him a quick once-over. She noted how the haircut, combined with his posture and clothing, amplified the already uncanny resemblance between them. If I didn't know better, I'd say we were twins. Or... maybe sisters with different lengths of hair.

"Looks sharp," Emma said lightly, though her thoughts churned beneath the surface.

"Thanks," John replied, running his fingers through his hair absentmindedly.

As they left the salon and stepped back into the bustling mall, John immediately noticed the shift in attention. More people seemed to glance their way, their gazes lingering just a little too long.

Unbeknownst to John, it wasn't Emma who had drawn their eyes—it was him. The way his layered haircut caught the light, the soft curves of his silhouette in the androgynous clothing, and his elegant walk created an allure that was hard to place. To the untrained eye, he appeared almost ethereal, his gender ambiguous yet intriguing.

A group of young men standing near a store entrance exchanged furtive glances as John walked past. One of them muttered something under his breath, prompting the others to snicker nervously. Their eyes followed John, lingering on his figure, their expressions tinged with subtle curiosity—and a hint of lust.

Emma noticed immediately, her eyes narrowing as she resisted the urge to laugh. They think he's a girl. Or maybe they're just confused. Either way, this is hilarious.

John, however, was oblivious. Catching a glimpse of Emma in his peripheral vision, he assumed the attention was for her. "People keep staring at you," he said with a teasing grin. "I guess you're really turning heads today."

Emma nearly choked on her own laughter but quickly composed herself. "Yeah, sure," she replied, her voice laced with amusement.

As they continued walking, John remained unaware of the effect he was having on those around him. His composed posture and refined movements seemed entirely natural to him, shaped by years of VR immersion. But to the onlookers in the mall, he was a captivating enigma—a blend of masculine and feminine that defied easy categorization.

Emma, trailing just slightly behind him, shook her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. He has no idea, does he? This is going to be a very interesting day.