Mirror Image

Chapter 8

"After finishing up at the salon, they wandered into a bustling clothing store, ready to explore the racks for a new wardrobe."

The store was bustling with shoppers, racks of clothes arranged meticulously under the bright, overhead lights. John and Emma stepped inside, the faint scent of new fabric mingling with the hum of conversations around them. John instinctively glanced toward the men's section, but Emma grabbed his arm, steering him in another direction.

"Oh no, we're not doing the same old boring stuff today," Emma said with a grin. "Let's mix it up a little."

John frowned. "What do you mean by 'mix it up'?"

Emma shrugged, her eyes scanning the women's section. "I was thinking... you've always said I have the most annoying voice, right? Let's see if you can copy it."

John blinked. "What? Why?"

"Why not?" Emma countered, her grin widening. "Think of it as a challenge. It's like karaoke but harder. You've got to mimic me for the rest of the day—voice and everything."

"That's ridiculous," John said, crossing his arms. "Why would I even want to?"

Emma tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Because you never back down from a challenge? And because I'll cover whatever you buy today if you can pull it off."

John hesitated, his skepticism evident. "You'd pay for everything?"

"Everything," Emma confirmed with a smirk. "But only if you stick to it. The second you drop the voice, you lose."

He exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine. But don't get mad if I sound nothing like you."

Emma beamed. "Deal. Let's hear your best shot, Jenny."

"Jenny?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Emma said, biting back a laugh. "You're gonna sound like me, so it only makes sense, right?"

John rolled his eyes but softened his voice experimentally. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

Emma wandered a little ahead, leaving John to trail behind as he adjusted to using the lighter tone. When they reached the women's section, she made a beeline for the nearest shop assistant, a cheerful young woman named Clara.

"Hi," Emma began, her voice low enough for John not to overhear. "My friend Jenny is looking for some clothes today. She prefers casual styles—nothing too feminine, but definitely from the women's collection."

Clara nodded eagerly. "Of course! I'll take good care of her."

Emma stepped aside just as John approached. Clara turned to him with a bright smile. "Hi there, Jenny! Your friend said you're looking for something casual but chic. Let me show you a few options."

John froze momentarily, his brain catching up with the situation. He cast a quick glare at Emma, who was pretending to browse nearby, then cleared his throat softly. "Uh, yes. That sounds good," he replied, his voice still pitched higher to match the challenge.

Clara didn't bat an eye. "Great! Follow me."

Clara led them through the racks, pulling out pieces she thought would suit. First, a pair of high-waisted beige trousers. "These are so versatile," she said, holding them up. "They give a sleek silhouette and go with just about anything."

Next came a soft lavender blouse with a subtle ruffle detail along the cuffs. "This would pair beautifully with the trousers. It's feminine without being too frilly."

John nodded politely, keeping his tone light as he answered. "That's nice. I'll try them on."

Emma stifled a laugh behind a rack of scarves, watching as Clara continued to pull options—each one inching further into the feminine category. John, to her surprise, didn't protest.

In the fitting room, John changed into the outfit. The trousers hugged his slim frame, and the blouse fell gracefully over his shoulders. He hesitated before stepping out, but Clara's delighted reaction caught him off guard.

"Oh, Jenny, this looks perfect on you!" she gushed. "The fit is fantastic, and the lavender really suits your complexion."

Emma turned from where she'd been leaning against the wall, her eyebrows lifting in mock surprise. John—or "Jenny," as Clara had dubbed him—did look remarkably put together. The outfit smoothed over any sharp angles, giving him an almost androgynous elegance.

"Wow," Emma said, grinning. "You're pulling that off better than I expected."

John shifted uncomfortably. "It's just clothes," he said, glancing down at himself. "No big deal."

Clara beamed. "Well, you wear them beautifully. Let's see what else we can find."

After trying on a few more outfits—Emma making sure everything covered his arms and legs—they settled on a selection: a deep purple satin pajama set with delicate lace trim, a pair of black flats, and even a pair of low kitten heels that Clara insisted completed the look.

"I can't walk in these," John muttered to Emma as they moved toward the checkout.

"You walk like you're floating already," Emma whispered back, suppressing a laugh. "These are nothing."

To top it off, Emma slipped in a pair of fitted gym leggings and a matching tank top. "Just something practical," she said, fighting to keep a straight face.

As they left the store, John noticed the lingering stares of passersby—especially from a group of young men lounging near the entrance. He leaned toward Emma, his voice still light as he whispered, "People keep staring at you today. You must be getting all the attention."

Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing outright. "Yeah," she said, her grin sly. "Something like that."

John straightened his posture and adjusted the shopping bags in his hands, oblivious to the fact that it wasn't Emma catching all the looks—it was him. The elegant way he moved, combined with his androgynous appearance and newly refined voice, had created an image far removed from the John he used to be. Emma, meanwhile, was silently reveling in her successful "experiment," already planning what the rest of the day would bring.