6th
303 Words
Chapter Six: “Still Jasmine”
Jasmine stood in front of the mirror again.
No filters. No front camera. Just her.
Her hair was tied up in the kind of messy bun that used to get praised as “effortless.” Now, it just felt tired. Her skin was duller than before. Her eyes held shadows she didn’t remember inviting.
She ran her fingers across her jaw, down her throat — unfamiliar terrain.
There was no glam squad. No ring light. No Kenzo adjusting her angles.
Just her. And her reflection.
She whispered, “Do you even know who you are without them?”
The mirror didn’t answer.
But a memory did.
The younger Jasmine — bold, curious, full of stories. Writing love poems in the back of her old notebooks. Dreaming of being seen for her words, not her image. She used to want to publish a book, not post for brands.
Before the followers.
Before the fame.
Before the lie that looked like love.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Had she lost that Jasmine?
Or had she just… buried her beneath someone else’s idea of who she should be?
Tears welled again, but this time, they didn’t fall.
She took a breath — shaky but deep.
Walked to the closet.
Found her old jeans, the ones with paint stains and memories of long nights spent creating, not performing.
A simple blouse. A clean face. Lip balm, not lipstick.
She didn’t want to return to the world as someone new.
She wanted to return as herself.
Still Jasmine.
Bruised, but breathing.
Quiet, but alive.
Broken, but not erased.
And tomorrow, she would meet the man who sent that email. Not as the broken girl the internet pitied — but as the woman she used to be.
Maybe not healed.
But healing.
- Writer
