Nova stirred in bed as the warm rays of the rising sun broke over her back. Drowsily, she blinked once, twice, three times, before she fully opened her eyes. Strands of long orange-red hair fell over her face as she pushed them back. I'm a ginger today, huh, she thought to herself as she tossed her blanket away from her body and climbed out of her bed. Pausing in front of her mirror, she glanced at her reflection to meet a set of clear blue eyes. She sighed.

Just yesterday, Nova was a beautiful girl in her teenage years with jet black hair and electric green eyes. The day before, she had soft brown hair with a creamy complexion and long, elegant fingers. Her eyes skimmed over her slightly curvy figure in the mirror before she snapped out of her trance and glided over to her closet to choose an outfit.

This had been happening to her since she was sixteen. Impulsively, Nova had wished on a star for everyone to think she was beautiful. The next day, she woke up a different person. Her hair color changed, her body changed, her facial structure changed, everything was different. But since then, every day, she met a new person who stopped in their tracks with their jaws slightly hung open, who rushed over to greet her and tell her she was the girl of their dreams, to ask for her phone number, to beg her to go on a date with them. She always refused. She knew they weren't attracted to her. She passed them in the hallways or on the streets the next day when she yet again changed appearances and they didn't even shoot her a second glance.

When she screamed her wish out into the night sky, she thought that maybe everyone's perspectives on her mundane chocolate-brown eyes and dark hair would change. Maybe people would look at her the next day and realize that there was an enchanting light in her eyes that they never noticed before, that her caramel skin seemed to magically glow. Maybe, she though, her smile would show others a hidden streak of kindness and warmth that no one took the time to notice in this busy world.

She never thought that she would be the one to change. And change every day, at that.

Nova was quick to notice that her appearances changed based on different people's versions of beautiful. A new person was always stuttering over her beauty every day, so it was not hard to pick up on. But six years of switching appearances made her tired. She felt clumsy in every girl's body, like she was in a suit of skin that never quite fit her perfectly.

There was a single picture in her wallet of herself at the age of sixteen, the last time she was herself. The mahogany eyes in the photo seemed to bore into Nova's skull. But it had been so long since she looked into the mirror and saw the same dark eyes looking back at her—the girl in the photo seemed unfamiliar. She never figured out how to break the curse. She had been searching for years and had given up.

Every day passed painfully. Nova had developed a habit of looking at her shoes or the floor directly in front of her to avoid meeting other people's eyes. She couldn't stand to see how other people perceived her physical beauty knowing that no one really knew who she was. Before, she wanted people to think she was beautiful. Now, she just wished people would think she was beautiful.

Her day, unsurprisingly, passed slowly, drudgingly, routinely. This time, a man approached her in her favorite coffee shop. She had pulled out her wallet in front of the barista to pay when he stumbled over. He stuttered, couldn't look her in the eye, could barely form comprehensible sentences as he asked if he could buy her a coffee, and she curtly refused without looking him in the eye. She knew that if she did, she'd feel pity for him and sorrow for herself. No, she had to be harsh with him. As he trudged away, she glanced at his defeated back and a pang hit her heart. Quickly, she swiped her card, stuffed it back in her wallet, shot a sad, soft smile at the barista, and snapped her wallet shut.

That night, she let the tears spill over her face. Her red hair was sprawled underneath her as she silently cried. The world had never felt so lonely to her. With gentle sobs, she rocked herself to sleep with nothing but the warmth of her bed.

The next day, she didn't bother to look at herself in the mirror. She made her way through the day slouching over as if she was bearing the weight of the world on her shoulders, too drained to notice the comfort she felt in this body. Eventually, she found herself slumped in one of the big, comfy couches in the coffee shop once more. She was staring out the window when her gaze shifted slightly and she noticed dark, sparkling eyes looking back at her. She blinked. The eyes blinked. Her lips parted in shock. Turning back, she caught a small smile from the barista, and instantly she knew he had been watching her. He signaled to her wallet, which she ripped open to meet a pair of dark eyes looking back at her frantic ones. Her. He saw the photo the day before when she paid for her coffee. She felt the tears begin to well up and a smile wash over her face.

She was herself again.