Eternity with Makeup

— Ugh… damn it, — mumbled Aleya, fumbling helplessly with the bra clasp, her fingers trembling as they caught on the tiny hooks.

She didn’t even notice, nor could she see, that her breasts were literally bursting out of the tight cups, barely held back by the fabric. Just one deeper breath, and it seemed that this bright-pink piece of nonsense would simply give up, releasing the heavy, firm shapes.

— Mersia, choke on it, — she hissed through her teeth after missing the hooks again. — I knew it, I knew your damn bra would never fit on my… these…!

'What a mockery. I can’t even look down properly, like I don’t have a body. But I feel everything! Every fold, every pressing seam. Damn Mersia…' she thought to herself, lowering her gaze only to see the same emptiness as in the mirror. Well, not emptiness exactly, but a floating, stretched-to-the-limit purple bra and a tight black skirt hanging in the air.

Behind her, Mersia appeared with a toothbrush in her mouth — barefoot, in a long white shirt hanging open, barely covering her hips. She stopped in the doorway, leaned lazily against the frame, and enjoyed watching Aleya’s struggle.

— Mmm… — she hummed through the foam, squinting, — the view is simply divine.

Aleya flinched and darted to the mirror, but once again saw only the ridiculous combination: a purple bra ready to snap off and a dark skirt floating in the void.

— What are you staring at? — she snapped, shaking her head so her hair fell onto her breasts, making the fabric stretch dangerously again. — Just tell me if it at least fits right or not? ‘Cause I think it doesn’t.

Mersia yawned, half-closing her eyes. She saw Aleya the same way everyone else did. Yeah, despite all the vampire tales, in reality it all worked completely differently. Vampires were no different from other people — they weren’t afraid of garlic or sunlight. All of that was distorted, and even blood they needed only once a month. Still, most of the legends about vampires didn’t come from nowhere.

They lived long — that part was true. The oldest was around thirty thousand years old now. They drank blood, yes, but any kind would do. Sunlight? It caused allergies, but it wasn’t deadly. Even with reflections it wasn’t like in the stories. Vampires did reflect, but they couldn’t see themselves, not only in the mirror — their vision after transformation simply changed so they couldn’t perceive themselves at all, like they were invisible, though to others they looked completely normal.

— You mixed up the bras, — Mersia finally said after pulling the toothbrush out of her mouth, smirking like a predator. — That one was mine, like ten years ago. Even on me it fit tight, and on you… — her gaze slid lazily down Aleya’s breasts, she snapped her fingers, — well, let’s just say there’s way too much ambition for those tiny little hooks.

— Are they really that big… — Aleya breathed out, as if afraid to admit it to herself. Her breasts weighed heavily under the pink bra, each cup trembling with the strain of the fabric, and with the slightest movement everything threatened to spill out.

She swallowed, but her throat was dry. The very thought that this was now her body, her everyday reality, hit her like a cold shower. Just a couple of months ago, she had been Ethan Johnson — a twenty-six-year-old guy from Seattle who naively fell for promises of eternal life. He dreamed of endless strength, immortality, the image of a vampire hunter from the movies. But instead of muscles, speed, and fangs, he now had this female shell he had to deal with every second.

Mersia stepped closer, flicked her nail against the bra strap, making it snap against Aleya’s skin and pull even tighter.

— Of course they’re big, darling. You thought you’d turn into Blade’s copy? — she smirked, leaning close enough that the ends of her long black hair brushed against Aleya’s shoulder. — I warned you: every turned one’s body changes differently. Yours just decided immortality should be… busty.

— Busty? — Aleya shut her eyes, clenching her teeth. Inside, everything boiled over. She wanted to scream that she was a man, that this was a mistake, that her hands weren’t supposed to slip helplessly over tiny hooks, trying to restrain tits that bounced heavily with every breath. But instead of a scream, only a low groan of frustration escaped her, as the bra gave in again and one breast nearly spilled out.

Mersia laughed and patted her shoulder gently:

— Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. You’ve got an eternity for that.

Aleya lifted her head as if about to argue, but the words stuck in her throat. Eternity… the word sounded like a sentence. Though not long ago, she didn’t feel that way at all. When she — or rather, Ethan — first learned from Mersia that she was a vampire, that vampires were real, and that she could, just like in the movies, turn him into one, he didn’t hesitate for a second. Ethan’s eyes had burned with anticipation then: strength, speed, weapons in his hands, skin armored, and crowds of enemies around him that he could tear apart with ease. In his head, everything looked exactly like in those films where the vampire hero walks out of the night, clad in leather, and with one move wipes out an entire army.

But reality made the “turning” very different. There was no thunder and lightning, no shine of new power. Only a hot wave pouring through his veins and agonizing hours where his body seemed to rebuild itself from within. He remembered clutching the sheets, his throat ripping into screams, and Mersia watching with cold calm, whispering: — Endure. You’ll thank me later.

And then he woke for the first time and realized this was no longer his body — finally and irreversibly. Where once there was a man’s chest, now rested soft, heavy curves. His arms, legs, face — all belonged to a woman. His first steps around the room were full of shock. He couldn’t see himself, but he felt everything, guessed, understood — especially when his hips swayed, his hair slapped against his shoulders, and on his breasts something pulled down desperately, alive in its own way, as he walked to the mirror in which… in which he saw nothing, as if he had turned invisible.

The new name, given according to all the traditions, was clearly feminine and sounded unusually soft — Aleya. It had been chosen by the council of the three elder vampires, to whom Mersia was obligated to present the newly turned one.

Aleya still remembered that night as if it had been burned into her memory with a hot iron. The three ancients sat in the shadows, their faces barely distinguishable, but the cold radiating from their presence was unmistakable. They knew everything about her former life, every detail, as if they had turned Ethan inside out and flipped through his past.

— Ethan Johnson, — said one, a tall man with shoulder-length hair, — died that night. You’re not him anymore.

— The name must fit the body, — added the woman with silvery eyes, tilting her head slightly. — You are new.

The third, the eldest of them, only cast a glance that made everything inside Aleya turn to ice and said:

— Aleya. So it shall be.

— But I’m a man… — he whispered then, helplessly running his hands over his new body, trying to find at least something familiar.

— A man? — the silver-eyed woman smirked faintly, tilting her head to the side. Her voice drew the words out softly, almost gently, but each one cut like a blade. — Girl, you may not see yourself, but even your old clothes, which now aren’t yours, say otherwise. Tell me honestly, does anything inside you still tell you you’re a man?

Aleya sighed, snapping her eyes open, wanting to focus on anything else, anything at all, just not to remember that gathering again.

— You’re lost in your memories again? — Mersia said as if she’d read her mind. — You should be thinking about the interview, not brooding.

— An intervie… Like having this body isn’t enough. I’m a vampire, why the fuck do I need a job?

— A job? — Mersia burst out laughing so hard Aleya felt even worse. Her laugh was light, almost sing-song. — Well, you can, of course, not work. Then think about what you’re going to live on. And if you think that just because the race is immortal you don’t need to eat — you’re dead wrong. Oh, hunger. Believe me, it’s a horrible torment. You feel like you’re dying, but you can’t die… brr…

Mersia flinched, as if remembering something.

— I tried once, — she added, pulling her shoulders in and shivering, — wanted to test the limit. Ten days — and I couldn’t even remember my own name. Everything around me turned into meat and shadow, no will, just hunger.

Aleya tensed, her hands curling into fists on their own.

— You’re kidding…

— Kidding? Not here. And besides, living for eternity and doing nothing is… unbelievably, even fatally boring. Even my ex couldn’t handle it, and he was a real fuck-up. Thought eternity meant freedom, hunting, thrills. And after half a century he was begging for a job, any job, just not to go insane.

Aleya jerked.

— Half a century?.. — she whispered almost inaudibly. — I can’t even last ten minutes in this bra, and you’re saying… half a century.

Mersia laughed loudly.

— Oh, you haven’t even tried corsets yet.

— Corsets?.. — she gasped, and the bra creaked again, sounding like it was ready to surrender. — No. No-no-no. I’m not putting all that on.

Mersia narrowed her eyes, smiling slyly as she leaned on the doorframe.

— Oh, darling, you’re living in good times now. Back then, stepping outside without a corset was shameful. We wore iron hoops for days that cut into your ribs so badly even breathing was torture. And still, we lived. And bloomed.

Aleya grabbed her head as if trying to push the image away.

— Stop it! I’m gonna be late for this interview! And you promised to help me with the makeup. We don’t have much time.

— Yeah-yeah-yeah. Makeup. I’m glad you’re already saying that so easily, — she sat down at the table with the makeup supplies and added, — but you’re still gonna have to learn to do it yourself.

Aleya collapsed into the chair in front of the mirror, where her only reflection was the bra hanging there, ready to give up at any second.

— Myself?.. — she whispered in despair. — I can’t even see myself…

Mersia smiled softly.

— But everyone else can. Don’t worry, you’ll learn. I’ll tell you a couple of tricks later.

Aleya nodded weakly and turned away, meeting the emptiness of the mirror. And at that moment she suddenly realized clearly that she would have to live like this forever. Eternity. With makeup, skirts, bras… and a face she would never even see.