Perfectly Broken By Hayden Lina

                                                                 Perfectly Broken

                                                                            by Hayden Lina

    Linea's hands were steady as she reached for the Aura-Lens glasses, but the girl reflected in the mirror a dull, plain, with a scattering of freckles she wished she could erase was shaking. These weren't for sight, they were for wanting to be perfect. The moment the cool plastic settled on her nose, the world didn't change, but she did.
    

    The mirror image flickered. Suddenly, the reflection that stared back wasn't Linea anymore. Her dark, messy curls smoothed into sleek, silky hair. The deep, warm brown of her skin turned snow as white. The Aura-Lens had scrubbed every flaw, leaving behind a woman whose smile was too bright, whose eyes held a bright, sparkler happiness. This was Maria, the flawless digital projection.
    

    Linea took a deep, shaky breath, the air thick with the lie. She was Maria now. As she stepped out of her quiet apartment, a wave of cold panic struck her. As she was getting close to the cafe a red light was blinking at the side of the glasses, displaying Filter Integrity: 5%. Must plug in now. She'd forgotten to charge them before she slept. Marco the handsome man she'd dreamt of since they meet at the libary's school was waiting. He only knew Maria, the filtered, perfect version of her.

    Linea rushed into the coffee shop and saw Marco already sitting at a table. He waved, smiling. She took a breath and sat down, but as she did, the glasses blinked again: 3% Filter Integrity and a large Warning sign.
"Are you okay, Maria?" Marco spoke, concern touching his kind face.
"I actually forgot my notes," Linea lied, standing up fast.
Marco looked confused. "But you just set your bag down."
Before she could answer, the AR glasses made a soft pop sound. The red warning vanished, replaced by a black screen. The filter was dead.
Linea froze. The world hadn't changed, but her reflection in the glass window behind Marco had. She saw herself: her slightly uneven skin, the nervous twitch in her eye, the real, imperfect Linea. This was her true identity, exposed.
Marco didn't blink. He just looked at her, tilting his head. "Hey, are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost."

    She didn't run. She didn't hide. She looked at Marco, then at the dead glasses in her hand. This was the moment. Taking a deep breath, Linea placed the inert glasses down on the table, a clear break between the two worlds.
"No," she said, letting her voice sound shaky and real. "I'm not Maria. My name is Linea."

    She watched his kind face, bracing herself for the flicker of disgust. "Those are Aura-Lens glasses," she explained, pointing to the plastic frame. "They create a filter, a digital projection. You’ve only ever known the filtered version of me. The perfect version.” Her voice cracked. “Maria isn’t real. She’s just a lie.”

    Marco picked up the inert frame, turning it over in his hand. He looked from the glasses back to Linea her real face, with the nervous twitch and the scattering of freckles she hated.

    His expression wasn't disappointment; it was a deep, thoughtful sadness. “So that’s what this was,” he murmured. “A mask.” He set the glasses down and leaned forward. “Linea, I’m not going to pretend to understand the tech. But I know you. I know the girl who I met at the library that day. The one who laughs so hard she snorts, the one who worries about her friends, the one I’ve spent the last three months wanting to see again.”

    He gently took her hands. “Maria was… lovely, yes. But she was too smooth, too perfect. She felt like a beautiful, distant picture. You, right now, are shaking. Your voice is raw. You are real. And that’s what I’ve been looking for. The only thing that would disappoint me is if you thought you had to keep putting on that lie to be worth my time.” A rush of powerful relief washed over Linea, sharp and overwhelming. This was true acceptance.

    “So, Linea,” Marco said, giving her hands a small, reassuring squeeze. “Can we start over? The real you, and the real me?”
Linea laughed, the sound shaky but absolutely genuine.
“Yes,” she replied, her voice finally steady. “Please. Tell me about your notes. The ones you actually forgot.”