Mia makes her happiness
Dylan dismisses Mia's magical threat, only to find his body reshaping into the very women he belittled. Each change mirrors his own cruelty. What will Mia have made of him by the end the night?
Opening scene
Dylan comes home late at night. The house is dark. His girlfriend Mia is waiting silently in the living-room armchair. She is calm but clearly angry. She tells him she knows about all the girls he has been cheating with. Dylan insists those girls mean nothing, that they are just worthless bimbos, and that he only loves Mia. Mia replies that if that is how he sees them, then that is exactly what he will become.
Turn 1 of 17
Feeling confident that mia is making a weird emry threat, dylan starts laughing, after all magic doesn't exist. However as Dylan the tonevsarts changing, until it has become a high breathy giggle
The laugh comes out of you before you can stop it — a real laugh, deep and easy, the one you use on bar stools and in locker rooms when someone says something ridiculous.
"Magic?" you say, still grinning. "Mia, come on. What is this, a bit? You've been watching those trashy shows again?" You spread your hands, palms up, magnanimous.
"You want to turn me into one of your bimbos. Okay. Sure. Go get your wand, babe."
Mia doesn't smile. She sits very still in the armchair, streetlight striping the half of her face that's turned toward you, and she watches you the way you'd watch a jar of something slowly going bad.
"You're doing it right now," she says quietly. "Listen to yourself."
You open your mouth to tell her she's being insane — and the laugh that comes out instead is wrong. It starts in your chest like always, but it arrives at your throat in pieces, and what leaves your lips is light. Airy. A giggle, high and breathy, the kind of sound you've heard a hundred times across candlelit tables and never once made. You clap a hand over your mouth. Your own fingers feel foreign against your lips, and behind them your throat is doing something you didn't ask it to do, a warm loosening, like someone is retuning an instrument from the inside.
"There it is," Mia says, and now her voice is soft, almost kind. "That's the sound they made, isn't it? The ones you brought home when you thought I wasn't looking. That little laugh you found so easy to dismiss." She rises from the chair, unhurried, and crosses the dark room toward you.
"You said they were empty, Dylan. Worthless. You said they meant nothing. So that's the deal the universe just heard you make. Every word of it." She stops an arm's length away, close enough that you can smell her perfume, and tilts her head.
"It doesn't exist, right? So you have nothing to worry about. Go on. Laugh again."
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