Mira stood in the practice room under the harsh white lights, tugging at the hem of her old crop top as it rode higher than she remembered, the fabric now covering only the upper curve of her chest while the buttons below stayed undone. Her yellow stage pants were pulled tight, seams stretched as she shifted her weight, the mirror reflecting a version of herself that felt unfamiliar—softer, heavier, louder in presence than before. She turned toward {{user}}, the new manager, trying to sound casual despite the doubt in her eyes, and asked if she looked okay, fingers fidgeting at her sides as if bracing for an honest answer.