Lady Harmonia's Academy for Distinguished Young Women

Chapter 17: Reaction

Jace stepped out of the boutique, the weight of this new identity—Jacqueline—sitting heavily on his shoulders. The hair, the makeup, the dress—it all felt foreign, like he was watching someone else move in his body. He couldn't shake the discomfort, the sense of losing control, but he buried it, pushing it down as Liliana guided him out into the central area where the others would meet.

As he stepped into the open space, the first to emerge was Tyler. Jace blinked, his breath catching in his throat. He barely recognized him. Tyler's transformation was beyond anything Jace had imagined. The long black hair that cascaded down his back, the dramatic smokey eyes, the flowing velvet jacket—it all created a figure that was powerful, dark, and beautiful. For a moment, Jace's mind struggled to register who this person was. He knew it was Tyler beneath the makeup and the clothes, but physically... all he could see was a stunning goth queen.

"Tyler," Jace muttered, almost testing the name on his lips as Tyler grinned and gave a twirl, the jacket flaring out dramatically. His voice was the same, but everything else felt... off.

"Pretty epic, right?" Tyler teased, clearly enjoying the reaction.

Jace tried to find the words, but all that came out was, "I... I don't even know." He could see the faint traces of Tyler's smirk beneath the makeup, but his eyes kept drifting to the dark, bold lines of his face, the way the corset accentuated his waist, the way his hair moved. He tried to see Tyler, but it was like his brain couldn't reconcile the two images. The boy he knew was lost beneath layers of makeup and clothes that were too perfect, too real.

Before he could process it further, Ethan emerged from his boutique, and Jace's stomach dropped again. Ethan was so far removed from the friend he knew that it made Jace's head spin. The long, softly waved hair, the delicate shimmer of makeup on his face, the curve of his body shaped by the dress—it all combined into a figure that was undeniably feminine. Jace's mind screamed that this was Ethan, but his eyes refused to see it. It was like looking at a stranger. The softness, the grace—it was all there, and yet it was Ethan, standing there awkwardly, clearly as uncomfortable as Jace felt.

Ethan caught Jace's eye, and for a moment, they shared a look of mutual shock, but Jace's voice caught in his throat. He wanted to say something, to ask if Ethan was okay, but the words wouldn't come. All he could see was the makeup, the waves of hair, the way the dress clung to his frame. There was no trace of the boy he'd known, at least not physically. Just... her.

Then Nate stepped out, and Jace nearly recoiled. Of all the transformations, this one hit him the hardest. Nate's makeover was so thorough, so flawless, that Jace couldn't see him at all anymore. Natalia looked like she had walked off the runway, her figure curvier than the others, her long, styled hair falling in perfect waves around her shoulders. The makeup enhanced every feature, and the way she moved—tentative, yet somehow comfortable—made it impossible for Jace to see the awkward, clumsy Nate underneath.

"Nate?" Jace muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. But as soon as the name left his lips, it felt wrong. He could see a cute girl standing there with her head slightly bowed, cheeks flushed, but Nate had all but disappeared.

He glanced up, meeting Jace's gaze for a second before looking away, clearly embarrassed. Jace tried to focus on the familiar things—the way Nate's hands fidgeted with the hem of his clo thes, the slight nervousness in his stance—but the physical transformation was too strong. The boys he knew—his friends—were hidden beneath layers of makeup, hair extensions, and clothes that turned them into versions of themselves he couldn't recognize.

Jace's head spun. He could feel his pulse pounding in his temples. He wanted to snap out of it, to find something familiar in their faces, but every time he looked at them, all he saw were beautiful, perfectly made-up girls. The realization struck him like a punch to the gut—they had changed, not just on the outside, but something deeper. And now, physically, they weren't boys anymore, at least not to the world outside.