What is an Even Better Plan?

"Actually, it's S.." you start to correct Clara, but once again your mouth betrays you. "Mia," you hear yourself saying instead. A flash of confusion crosses your face, which Clara immediately notices.

"Mia it is, then," she says with a curious tilt of her head. "Unless you'd prefer something else?"

"No, I—" You shake your head, copper waves dancing around your shoulders. "Sorry, I just need to use the bathroom quickly."

"Down the hall on the left," David offers, though you obviously know where it is—it was your flat too, until about two hours ago.

You slip away, feeling Clara's analytical gaze follow you as you hurry down the hallway. Inside the bathroom, you lock the door and lean against it, breathing heavily. The unfamiliar weight on your chest rises and falls with each breath, a constant reminder of your transformation.

You pull the phone from your pocket. The screen lights up immediately with Becky's cartoon face.

https://imgur.com/a/3uhEDcj

"There you are, babe!" she exclaims, her digital breasts bouncing with excitement. "Hiding in the bathroom already? Classic new-girl move!"

"Why can't I say my name is Shae?" you whisper urgently. "I keep saying Mia instead."

Becky twirls a strand of her platinum blonde hair around her finger. "Because Mia is your name now, silly! The app optimized your identity parameters during final transformation. Mia just fits your new persona sooooo much better!"

"But I choose Shae when I designed—"

"When you designed your 'perfect girlfriend,'" Becky interrupts with air quotes. "But honey, the app knows better than you do! Plus, we've already set up all your social media accounts as Mia."

You stare at her in horror. "You what?"

"Check your Insta, TikTok, and Snap! You're already trending, babe." She giggles. "That selfie with David is getting major engagement. Everyone wants to know who the cute redhead is!"

You frantically tap through the phone, finding fully-formed social media accounts under the name "Mia O'Sullivan." The profile pictures are all you—this new you—though you have no memory of taking any of them. Your Instagram already has over 2,000 followers.

"This isn't possible," you mutter, scrolling through photos of "yourself" at various London landmarks from the past several months.

"Digital footprint adjustment is included in the Premium Package!" Becky explains cheerfully. "Everyone who sees these accounts thinks you've had them forever. It's part of your new reality!"

A knock on the bathroom door makes you jump.

"Mia?" Clara calls through the door. "Are you okay in there, babes? You've been gone a while."

You quickly splash some cold water on your face, taking a moment to study your reflection—the delicate features, the sprinkling of freckles, the vivid green eyes that now belong to you. "Coming!" you call back, your lilting voice still jarring to your ears.

When you return to the kitchen, Clara and David are deep in conversation, which stops abruptly as you enter.

"There she is!" Clara says brightly. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, sorry about that," you reply, tucking a strand of copper hair behind your ear—a gesture that feels both foreign and somehow natural.

"So, as I was saying before," Clara continues, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "I have a much better idea than brunch. We need to get you properly sorted, Mia."

"Sorted?" you ask cautiously.

Clara gestures at your outfit—her clothes on your new body. "Those are fine for now, but you can't just wear my leftover clothes forever. Plus, you need essentials. Makeup. Proper underwear that actually fits those perky little tits."

You feel your cheeks flush hot at her casual assessment of your new body.

"I'm thinking," Clara announces, "shopping trip! Slink Boutique first—they just got their new summer collection—then Gloss and Glam for a proper hair styling. Matt's loss of luggage is our gain!" She winks at David, who looks amused by her enthusiasm.

"I don't know," you say hesitantly. "I don't have any money for—"

David interrupts, pulling out his wallet. "I'll cover it. Consider it a welcome gift for Matt's... friend." There's something in his tone—a hint of teasing, perhaps even flirtation—that makes you distinctly uncomfortable.

Clara claps her hands together. "Perfect! David pays, we play. Come on, Irish Mia, let's make you feel at home in London."

13:50 | Saturday 2 August 2025 | Putney, London

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