Low Self-Esteem – Big Ass

— Well... what do you think? — Jessica's voice, now high and nervously feminine, trembled like a string. She stood frozen in the bathroom, facing the mirror, phone held up by her face, posing for a selfie. The camera caught every shiny curve of her black leggings, which clung too tightly, squeezing her big ass. The off-shoulder top kept riding up with every breath, and her smooth, slightly damp-from-nerves skin glowed under the lights.

A sigh came from the other end of the line.

— Jess... — Maddy was trying not to burst out laughing. — You look like… damn, like you just stepped out of some ultra-glossy lingerie brand's ad campaign. This is insane.

— It’s not funny... — Jessica whispered, squeezing her knees together. She sat on the edge of the bathtub, feeling the leggings dig into her ass crack, sparking another wave of humiliating discomfort and the urge to take them off. But she couldn’t. No. Instead, she jerked her head sharply and said, — I think I... look fat.

If Jessica had heard this a few days ago from a girl who looked as stunning as she did now, she would’ve laughed in her face and tossed out a few biting lines about how “brainless Instagram dolls” should stop fishing for compliments.

A few days ago, she had been Josh. Tall, bony, slightly hunched, with a practiced sneer of disdain. Josh loved tearing into girls who flaunted their looks. He was the kind to shred them apart on forums, to leave sarcastic comments under glossy photos on social media: “Silicone and filters don’t make a personality.” His domain — the philosophy department at the local college, where he believed intellect trumped everything. Well, at least until a run-in with micro-ramia spores flipped his — or rather, her — life upside down a couple weeks back.

Now Jessica both understood and resented Maddy for laughing — because to her, none of this was a joke. This wasn’t just “girly drama in front of a mirror” — it was torture. She was genuinely freaking out about all of it.

— Ha-ha! Oh my God, Jess, stop, — Maddy snorted, nearly choking on her laughter. — Your ass looks like a damn Insta-model’s! Fat? Are you serious?!

— Jessica nearly dropped the phone. She shut her eyes tight. Something burned inside. It wasn’t just shame — it was unbearable. She understood what Maddy meant and why she laughed, she used to be the same. But right now, she really needed support, and she thought Jessica — the friend who was now her best friend in this new, bizarre reality — would have her back. But no, instead, there was that laugh. Even though Jessica had tried so hard. She had spent ages picking out the outfit. Spinning in front of the mirror, finding the right angle.

— I’m serious, — she breathed out, quietly, almost childlike. — You don’t get it, Mads. I... Maybe I should get boobs?

There was a pause on the other end. Long, awkward. Jessica could hear Maddy sniff, holding back another laugh, but eventually she just exhaled:

— Oh god... Jess, stop talking crap. You've already got tits like a porn star! Have you even seen yourself from the back? I’d shoot myself if I had that body and no one to talk about it with!

— You don’t understand... — Jessica stared at her reflection. Her wavy hair had fallen naturally over her shoulders, tickling her collarbones. She gently adjusted the top, tugging it down a bit, but instantly felt the fabric ride up again, exposing her stomach. — It’s... just... I look so ugly, Mads! Maybe I should get my lips done?! Or, like, longer nails?

A new wave of facepalm flared up in Jessica’s head. 'What the fuck is wrong with you? What the hell are you saying?!' — Josh’s voice, internal, dark and full of scorn, pierced through the pink bubblegum of her new thoughts. He was still in there, and that only made everything worse. Because she remembered all her old thoughts — or rather, Josh’s thoughts. How he looked at girls who looked like her now, with disgust, like through a shop window for dumb, painted-up dolls. How he sneered internally: “Nothing but likes and silicone. Airheads in leggings.” And now she was that airhead. And the most humiliating part was — she needed it now.