Veronica stood in front of the full-length mirror, a swirl of emotions coloring her reflection. With every glance, she was reminded that she wasn’t just seeing a pretty girl. The delicate features peering back at her belonged to someone named Victoria—someone who had replaced Miles Johnson, the rude, rebellious teenager who had plagued his mother, Molly, for far too long.
It was only a day since the unwitting wish had transformed Miles into this new identity, and now as Veronica, she grappled with the vast differences of her life. She brushed her fingers over the soft, pink ballet leotard hugging her new form. A frilly skirt—much too short compared to the baggy clothes she used to wear—flared around her hips. The soft ballet slippers felt foreign; her feet seemed to move differently in them. It was surreal that just hours ago, she had been the embodiment of teenage rebellion, an inconsolable brat with a disdain for authority. Now, here she was, and all she wanted was to survive her first day at the ballet school.
“Come on, Veronica!” she muttered to herself, trying to brush away the anxious thoughts racing in her mind. “You’ve got this. It’s just ballet! Just… a little dance class.” Yet, her trepidation grew with every passing minute. This was her new life, but as Miles, she had never bothered with ballet or any art form, having lived in a constant cycle of defiance, smoking weed with her friends, and talking back to her mother.
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