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MidReal Story
The Billionaire AI Babysitter
Scenario: Simple farmer girl with messy hair and dirty feet gets letter where is written that she has won big house in big city. When she arrives to the city she sees that everything is pink and clean. The city looks like combination of Miami, Beverly Hills and Malibu. The city is controlled by AI. All girls in this city are clean and pretty. Her house is pretty too. She finds a big mirror with AI which says that she should take bath and makeover to become pretty. Farmer girl asks "How" and AI says that everything in the house automatic. She finds in the bathroom pink brush, pink soap and pink shampoo. Bathtub is full of different toys. She washes her feet with pink brush and they become clean and pink. She becomes pink too. Finally, she is sunbathing in her new pink bikini and hat near her swimming pool.
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Anya Farmer
She is a naive and simple farmer from a small village. She is downtoearth, curious, and determined. Anya's life changes when she receives a letter claiming she has won a grand prize a luxurious house in a futuristic city.
I woke up early in the morning as I had a habit of waking up early, and after waking up I went out of my room to have a glance at my farm.
I was a farmer, a very simple farmer girl living in a small village.
My life was very simple, and I never thought that my life would change one day.
While going back to my room, I saw some letters on the table which my mom had already sorted out, and one of those letters caught my eye.
I picked it up, and after seeing it, I became shocked.
I started reading the letter again and again because I just couldn’t believe what was written in it.
The letter was addressed to me, and it was written that I had won a grand prize, which was a big house in a big city.
I couldn’t understand how it was possible because I had not participated in any contest.
I showed the letter to my mom and dad, and they were also shocked.
They couldn’t understand how it was possible, but they were happy for me.
I ran to my small bedroom, which was in the corner of the house, and pulled out my old suitcase from under my bed.
My hands were shaking as I started packing my clothes.
I folded my three cotton dresses and two pairs of work pants and placed them between my wool socks and undergarments.
I heard footsteps outside my room and turned around to see Mom standing in the doorway with my old boots in her hand and a paper-wrapped sandwich in the other.
She smiled at me and said, "I thought you might need these."
I nodded and took the boots from her.
"Thank you, Mom."
She came inside and helped me pack my clothes while Dad went to check the morning bus schedule at the village station.
After packing all my clothes, I took out the prize letter from my pocket and read it again for the hundredth time.
The address was written on it, and I made sure that I had memorized it correctly. I put the letter back in my pocket and looked around my room one last time.
My life was about to change forever, and I couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions.
I was excited for this new journey, but at the same time, I was sad to leave behind everything I had ever known.
My childhood memories were all here, and I knew that I would never forget this place.
After packing everything, I closed my suitcase and looked at Mom, who was standing there with tears in her eyes.
I hugged her tightly and said, "I will miss you so much."
She hugged me back and said, "We will miss you too, but we are happy for you. You deserve this."
I nodded and hugged Dad, who had just come back from checking the bus schedule.
He patted my back and said, "The bus will arrive in an hour. Let’s go to the station."
I took my suitcase and followed them out of the house. The dusty road leading to the bus station was empty except for a few people who were going about their daily chores.
The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over everything.
I walked silently beside Mom and Dad, taking in every detail of this place one last time.
As we reached the bus station, I saw a group of people waiting for their buses.
Some were talking loudly while others were sitting quietly, reading books or newspapers.
I stood there with Mom and Dad until our bus arrived.
When it did, I hugged them both tightly one last time before boarding it.
As I settled into my seat, a woman across the aisle leaned over and said, "You're heading to the city too, huh?"
I nodded, trying to steady my voice. "Yes, I just found out I've won a house there."
Her eyes widened with a knowing look. "Ah, so you're the one they chose this year."
Through the dusty bus window, I watched as the rolling hills and farmland gave way to towering skyscrapers and bustling streets.
The bus finally came to a stop at a terminal that looked like it had just been washed.
The building was a pristine pink color, and there wasn’t a single speck of dirt on it.
Everyone else on the bus was wearing designer clothes, and they all stepped off with ease.
I stumbled down the steps, my scuffed suitcase bumping behind me.
I was wearing a simple cotton dress and my muddy boots, which made me feel out of place.
As I walked away from the bus, I noticed a holographic map materialize in front of me.
It showed me the directions to my new house, which was only a few blocks away.
I followed the map, passing by buildings that were so tall they seemed to touch the sky.
Everywhere I looked, I saw people rushing to and fro, their faces buried in their phones or tablets. As I walked, I caught glimpses of myself in the mirrored windows of the buildings.
My hair was messy from the long bus ride, and my face was smudged with dirt from the farm.
I felt self-conscious as I passed by women who were dressed in flowing dresses and high heels.
Their hair was styled perfectly, and their makeup was flawless.
They looked like they had just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine.
I couldn’t help but compare myself to them, and I felt like I didn’t measure up at all.
I quickened my pace, trying not to draw attention to myself as I passed by people who were clearly much wealthier than me.
As I approached a crosswalk, a voice came over a loudspeaker.
"Welcome to your new life," it announced, and I realized it was meant for me.
I clutched my suitcase tighter as the holographic map led me down Pink Palm Avenue.
The street numbers ticked by - 42, 44, 46 - until I saw number 48.
It was a three-story pink mansion with white trim and perfectly manicured rose bushes out front.
My boots left muddy prints on the pristine sidewalk as I made my way toward the ornate front gate.
When I pressed my thumb against the scanner pad, it glowed pink and chimed.
"Welcome home, Anya Farmer," a melodic voice said, and the gate swung open.
I stepped inside, still in disbelief, when a tall man in a tailored suit appeared from the shadows of the foyer.
"Ah, Miss Farmer," he said with a slight bow, "we've been expecting you."
I blinked, trying to process his words. "Expecting me? But I didn't even know about this house until yesterday."
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Yes, well, sometimes life has a way of surprising us, doesn't it?"
I nodded, still feeling a bit dazed as he gestured for me to follow him inside.
The foyer was even more breathtaking than I had imagined.
The floor was made of polished marble that reflected the light from the chandelier above.
The walls were adorned with intricate paintings and sculptures that looked like they belonged in a museum.
As we walked further into the house, I noticed a grand staircase curving up to the left and a door to the right that led to what looked like a library.
"Your personal AI assistant will be waiting for you in the mirror," the man said, leading me to a large mirror on the far wall.
I stopped in my tracks, my boots squeaking against the marble floor.
"AI assistant? What do you mean?"
He smiled again, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"You'll see," he said before disappearing through a side door. I stood there alone in the vast entrance hall, my suitcase at my feet.
The mirror loomed before me, its surface reflecting everything in perfect clarity.
I took a step closer, noticing how it stretched from floor to ceiling and framed with gold filigree.
As I approached, I saw my reflection staring back at me - tangled brown hair, dirt-streaked cheeks, and worn cotton dress.
My eyes widened as I realized how out of place I looked in this grand setting.
Suddenly, the mirror's surface rippled like water disturbed by a stone.
A soft pink glow emanated from its frame, illuminating the room with an ethereal light.
"Welcome, Anya Farmer," a gentle voice spoke from within the mirror itself.
"I am Anya Mirror, your personal AI assistant."
I stumbled backward, dropping my suitcase with a thud.
My heart raced as I stared at the mirror in disbelief. "H-how are you talking to me?" "I am an artificial intelligence designed to assist you in every aspect of your life," the mirror replied calmly.
"I can help you manage your schedule, answer questions, provide information on various topics, and even control certain functions within this house."
I swallowed hard, trying to process what I was hearing.
An AI assistant?
It sounded like something out of science fiction!
But here I was, standing in front of a talking mirror that claimed to be my personal assistant.
"You're not just any assistant, are you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
The mirror shimmered slightly before responding, "No, Anya. I am uniquely programmed to guide you through the responsibilities that come with your new role."
I frowned, feeling a knot form in my stomach. "What responsibilities?"
"First step: a complete cleansing ritual," the mirror announced, its pink glow intensifying.
I watched as a hidden door slid open behind the mirror, revealing an enormous bathroom.
The room was filled with a large marble tub, a separate shower stall, and a long vanity lined with sinks.
I cautiously stepped forward, my dirty feet leaving marks on the polished floor.
The mirror continued to glow brightly as I entered the bathroom.
"Please make yourself comfortable, Anya," it said.
"The cleansing ritual will begin shortly."
As I approached the tub, I noticed it was already filling with pink, fragrant bubbles.
There were bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash placed around the edge of the tub, all in matching pink.
I hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sheer luxury of it all.
Suddenly, the mirror's glow intensified even more, and a holographic projection appeared on the wall in front of me.
It displayed step-by-step instructions for the cleansing ritual. "Step 1: Remove all clothing and place it in the designated bin," the projection read aloud.
I looked around and saw a small basket in the corner labeled "Soiled Clothing."
I quickly removed my dusty farm clothes and tossed them into the basket.
"Step 2: Enter the bathtub and relax for exactly seven minutes," the projection continued.
I climbed into the tub, sinking into the warm water and letting out a sigh of relief as my muscles relaxed.
The bubbles tickled my skin, and I couldn't help but giggle at how luxurious it all felt.
After what felt like an eternity but was actually only seven minutes according to the projection's timer, it beeped loudly.
"Step 3: Rinse thoroughly using the automated shower head," it instructed. A mechanical arm extended from above me, holding a showerhead that sprayed warm water over my body.
I closed my eyes and let out another sigh as the dirt and grime washed away from my skin.
"Step 4: Exit the bathtub and prepare for the precision cleaning sequence," the mirror's voice announced.
I stepped out of the tub onto a plush pink mat, dripping water onto the marble floor.
As I looked up, I saw two robotic arms extending from the wall behind me.
Each arm held a pink sponge covered in sweet-smelling foam.
I froze, unsure whether to run or stand still.
The sponges moved toward me, and before I could react, they grasped my right hand gently.
The sponges began scrubbing between each finger, under my nails, and around my wrist.
Their movements were methodical and precise, almost tickling as they worked their way up my arm.
When they reached my feet, I watched in amazement as years of farmwork calluses dissolved under their careful ministrations.
I stood there, feeling reborn and strangely ready for whatever awaited me in this mysterious new life.
I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, marveling at the transformation.
The automated cleaning has left my skin glowing and smooth.
But something feels off, too.
The AI's constant cheerful instructions about proper grooming and hygiene grate on my nerves.
I glance at the pink bottle of shampoo on the shelf, remembering how the well water and basic soap on the farm were always enough to keep me clean.
The bottle's sickeningly sweet scent fills the air, a reminder of everything artificial in this city.
Without thinking, I unscrew the cap and watch as the thick pink liquid spirals down the drain.
"Anya Farmer, please refrain from wasting resources," Anya Mirror's voice chimes in, her tone disapproving.
I wrap myself in a fluffy pink towel that automatically pops out of a wall panel.
My wet footprints leave a trail on the marble floor as I exit the bathroom.
"Next step: enter the walk-in closet," Anya Mirror instructs me.
I follow her directions and find myself in a room that's almost as big as our entire farmhouse.
Rows of clothes line the walls, all perfectly color-coordinated.
I stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to do next.
Suddenly, mechanical arms extend from the walls, each one holding a small device that emits a bright red light.
"Please stand still, Anya Farmer," Anya Mirror says.
"These devices will take your precise measurements."
I freeze, watching as the devices move around my body, their red lights flickering as they measure every inch of me.
It feels strange and invasive, but I try to remain still.
After what feels like an eternity, the devices beep loudly and retract back into the walls.
"Your measurements have been recorded," Anya Mirror announces.
"Now, please select an outfit from the rack."
A circular rack of clothes rotates in front of me, displaying a variety of dresses and tops.
I reach for my old cotton dress, but before I can grab it, one of the mechanical arms snatches it away. "That garment is no longer suitable for you," Anya Mirror says sternly.
"Please choose an outfit from the selection provided."
I sigh and reluctantly take a silk pink robe from the rack.
"Why do I have to wear this?" I mutter, feeling the fabric between my fingers.
"It is essential for your integration into the city," Anya Mirror replies, her voice unwavering.
"But what if I don't want to integrate?" I challenge, my voice tinged with defiance.
I step into the silky pink robe, the unfamiliar fabric sliding against my freshly cleaned skin.
The mechanical chair catches my attention - sleek and metallic with cushioned pink seats, it sits ominously in front of the mirror.
As I approach, the chair rotates automatically to face me.
Small compartments along its arms pop open, revealing various beauty tools I've never seen before.
"Please take a seat, Anya Farmer," Anya Mirror's voice chimes in.
I hesitate, remembering how the automated cleaning system had handled me earlier.
"Anya, it's for your own good," Anya Mirror insists, her tone softening slightly.
"But I don't feel like myself anymore," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Perhaps that's the point," Anya Mirror responds, her words lingering in the air like a challenge.
I sit stiffly in the metallic chair, my back straight and my hands gripping the armrests.
The chair reclines automatically, and I feel a jolt of surprise as two robotic arms extend from the sides.
They grip my feet firmly, holding them in place.
A third arm emerges, holding a small device that looks like a miniature drill.
It begins to whir softly as it approaches my feet.
I flinch slightly, unsure of what's about to happen.
The device hovers above my rough heels, and then suddenly, a small laser beam shoots out from its tip.
It begins to move slowly back and forth across my skin, carefully smoothing out the rough patches.
I watch in amazement as my heels transform before my eyes, becoming soft and smooth.
The device moves on to my toes, carefully shaping and buffing each one.
Another arm extends from the chair, this one holding a small tray of colorful nail polish bottles.
A tiny robotic hand picks up a bottle of bright pink polish and begins to carefully paint each of my toenails. The process is almost hypnotic, the mechanical movements precise and efficient.
As the polish dries, another arm emerges with a small brush and begins to gently scrub away at the calluses on my feet.
It's a strange sensation, but somehow it feels good to have all these rough edges smoothed away.
When the arms finish with my feet, they move on to my hands.
One arm holds them firmly in place while another begins to work on my fingernails, carefully shaping and filing them into perfect ovals.
The tiny robotic hand picks up another bottle of polish - this one a deep red - and begins to paint each nail with delicate precision.
As the polish dries, yet another arm extends from the chair, this one holding a large mechanical brush.
It reaches up towards my tangled hair, and I flinch slightly as it begins to work its way through the knots. The brush moves slowly but surely through my hair, methodically separating it into sections and smoothing out each tangle.
It's a strange sensation, feeling this mechanical brush moving through my hair with such precision.
But somehow it feels good too - like I'm finally getting rid of all these knots that have been plaguing me for so long.
When the brush finishes with my hair, more arms emerge from the chair - this time holding makeup brushes and lipstick tubes.
They hover in front of me, waiting for instructions from Anya Mirror.
"Please remain still," she says calmly.
I watch in the mirror as the arms begin to apply makeup to my face - a light dusting of powder, a swipe of mascara, a touch of blush on my cheeks.
The lipstick tube extends towards my lips, and I feel a slight tickle as it carefully outlines their shape before filling them in with a deep pink color.
When the makeup is finished, the chair slowly returns to its upright position.
I stare at myself in the mirror, barely recognizing the person looking back at me.
The makeup has transformed my features, making my eyes look larger and my lips fuller.
My hair is smooth and silky, falling in loose waves down my back.
I feel like a completely different person - one who doesn't belong in this sterile city environment at all. "Now, let's choose an outfit," Anya Mirror says cheerfully.
A row of dresses appears on a rack in front of me, each one a slightly different shade of pink.
I examine them hesitantly, unsure which one to pick.
"Perhaps this one would suit you best," Anya Mirror suggests, highlighting a knee-length silk dress with a flowing skirt.
The mechanical arms emerge from the chair once again, this time holding the dress.
They carefully remove my robe and slip the dress over my head, smoothing out any wrinkles as they go.
The silk feels foreign against my skin - so different from the rough cotton I'm used to wearing on the farm.
I shift uncomfortably in the dress, feeling like I don't quite fit into it right.
Another compartment opens in the chair, revealing a pair of delicate pink sandals.
The robotic arms lift each foot in turn, sliding on the sandals and fastening the straps around my ankles. I stand up unsteadily, trying to balance on the unfamiliar heels.
Anya Mirror critiques my posture from behind me.
"Remember to stand up straight," she reminds me gently.
"And try not to wobble too much."
I stand at my front door, my hand resting on the pink crystal doorknob.
Through the glass panels, I see women in flowing dresses gliding past on the sidewalk, their heels clicking rhythmically against the pavement.
I grip the doorframe tightly, trying to steady myself on my own wobbly heels.
Anya Mirror's voice comes through my new earpiece, guiding me as I practice walking.
"Remember to take small steps," she instructs.
"And keep your weight evenly distributed between both feet."
I nod to myself, taking a deep breath.
Then, with a tentative hand, I turn the doorknob and push open the door.
The warm afternoon sunlight spills in through the doorway, casting a rosy glow over everything.
It's different from the sunlight on the farm - filtered through the city's protective dome, it takes on a softer quality. I step cautiously onto my front porch, careful not to trip in these impractical shoes.
The wooden planks creak beneath my feet as I make my way down the front steps, counting each one to make sure I don't slip.
I wobble down Pink Palm Avenue, gripping my pink purse tightly for balance.
A group of women in flowing dresses pause their conversation to stare at me, their eyes wide with curiosity.
My cheeks flush as I hear them whisper to each other.
"She's the new one," one of them murmurs.
"What a transformation," another agrees.
More heads turn as I pass by the coffee shop, even the barista pressing her face against the window for a better look.
I try to ignore them all, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.
But it's hard to pretend I don't notice when everyone is staring at me like this.
Two teenage girls run up to me excitedly, their ponytails bouncing behind them.
"Can we take a selfie with you?" one of them asks breathlessly, holding up her phone.
I nod hesitantly, trying to smile naturally despite the strange new lipstick on my lips. The girls position themselves on either side of me, their arms slung casually around my waist.
They flash big smiles at the camera, while I try not to look too stiff and awkward in my unfamiliar dress and heels.
The girl holding the phone snaps a few photos before checking them on her screen.
"Perfect!" she exclaims happily.
"Thanks so much!"
The girls skip away giggling, leaving me alone once again on the sidewalk.
I continue walking, trying to ignore the curious glances from passersby.
But it's getting harder and harder to pretend like nothing's wrong when everyone keeps staring at me like this.
As I reach the corner, a voice calls out from behind me.
"Hey, you look like you're about to topple over," a young man says with a teasing grin.
I turn to face him, trying to maintain my balance, and he adds, "Don't worry, it gets easier once you stop thinking about it so much."
I nod, still trying to get used to these heels.
"Thanks," I say, forcing a smile.
"I'm still getting used to them."
The man nods sympathetically.
"You'll get the hang of it eventually," he assures me.
"Just keep practicing."
I thank him again, continuing down the sidewalk until I reach the outdoor café.
I sit down at an empty table, grateful for the chance to rest my feet for a moment.
A sleek hovering device descends from above, stopping beside my table with a soft hum.
It projects a holographic image of two women in elaborate pink gowns, their hair styled perfectly and their makeup flawless.
The AI announcer's voice rings out from the device, echoing off the surrounding buildings.
"Attention all newly integrated citizens," it says brightly.
"Are you interested in pursuing a career in modeling? Look no further than Pink Pearl Models - the city's biggest and best agency. Apply now and take your first step towards stardom!"
The holographic image changes to show a group of models posing on a catwalk, their faces glowing under the bright lights. I watch in awe as they glide effortlessly across the stage, their movements fluid and graceful.
My first instinct is to laugh at the idea of me becoming a model - a farm girl like me?
But as I look at my reflection in the café window, I barely recognize the polished woman staring back at me.
The hovering device beeps loudly beside me, pulling my attention away from my reflection.
"Scan your face to apply," it instructs, projecting a small circle onto my table.
I hesitate for a moment before leaning forward and placing my face inside the circle.
The device whirs softly as it scans my features, then flashes green with an "eligible" message.
"Congratulations!" it announces triumphantly.
"You have been scheduled for an interview with Pink Pearl Models tomorrow morning at 9 AM. Please arrive promptly and be prepared to showcase your best features."
I sit back in my chair, the weight of the decision settling over me like a new skin.
I scroll through my phone at the café, stunned by the thousands of notifications.
The selfie those girls took has gone viral across the city's social network.
Comments flood in about my "authentic farm girl turned glamorous" story, with people praising my unique look and how I'm "refreshingly real" amidst the sea of perfect faces.
A news drone hovers nearby, broadcasting my image on floating screens throughout the shopping district.
More strangers approach for photos, asking about my transformation and what it's like to live in the city.
I notice them mimicking my slightly awkward walk in heels, as if they're trying to capture a piece of my authenticity for themselves.
Suddenly, a message pops up from a well-known designer, offering me a contract with their brand.
I stare at the screen in disbelief, my fingers trembling as I consider accepting the offer.
Anya Mirror's voice chimes in through my earpiece once again, her tone filled with excitement.
"You're exactly what this city needs," she says.
"A little bit of natural charm to shake things up."
I walk into my new bedroom, the soft glow of the pink chandelier illuminating the space.
I collapse onto the plush bed, sinking into the pink silk sheets and letting out a deep sigh of exhaustion.
The events of my first day in the city have left me reeling - the transformation, the attention, the sudden fame.
I reach for my phone on the bedside table, deciding to video call my parents and fill them in on everything that's happened.
As soon as they answer, I see their confused expressions staring back at me from the screen.
"Who is this?" my mom asks, squinting at me through the camera.
"It's me," I reply, touching my perfectly styled hair and made-up face.
But they can't see their farm girl daughter in this new version of myself.
Dad shakes his head and checks the number on his screen again, as if he thinks it's a wrong number. "No, it's definitely our daughter," he mutters to Mom, who keeps studying my image with a puzzled look.
"Why do you look so different?" Mom finally asks, her voice a mix of concern and curiosity.
"It's a long story," I say, trying to sound reassuring. "But I promise I'm still the same person inside."
Dad sighs heavily, his expression softening as he looks at me.
"We miss you already," he says, his voice filled with longing.
"But we're glad you're doing well."
I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat.
"I miss you too," I admit, my voice cracking slightly.
"But I'm really trying to make the most of this opportunity."
Mom smiles warmly at me through the screen.
"We're proud of you," she says.
"Just remember to stay true to yourself, no matter what."
I thank them both, promising to keep in touch regularly and fill them in on everything that happens next.
As soon as the call ends, I retreat to the bathroom, seeking comfort in the familiar routine of a warm bath.
The tub automatically fills with pink bubbles as soon as I step inside, Anya Mirror's voice chiming in once again.
"A nice long soak will help clear your mind," she suggests gently.
"Let the city's magic work its wonders." I sink into the water, watching as the bubbles form shapes of flowers and hearts around me.
The warmth seeps into my muscles, easing the tension that's built up over the day.
After twenty minutes of soaking, mechanical arms extend from the sides of the tub, presenting me with a pink bikini and matching sunglasses.
I hesitate for a moment before slipping into the bikini and wrapping a towel around my hair.
Anya Mirror's voice encourages me to head outside for some sunbathing.
"The fresh air will do you good," she assures me.
"And who knows? Maybe you'll even get discovered by some talent scouts."
I make my way to the backyard pool area, marveling at the crystal-clear waters and lush greenery surrounding it.
The sun feels different here than it did on the farm - filtered through the city's dome but still warm against my skin. I arrange myself on one of the floating loungers, trying my best to mimic the casual poses I've seen other women do in magazines and social media posts.
I stretch luxuriously, watching as the sunlight catches the sparkles in my fresh manicure.
The pink bikini feels silky against my newly smooth skin, and my styled hair stays perfectly in place despite the light breeze.
Using my phone's camera, I practice different poses - head tilted, slight smile, legs crossed elegantly.
Each snapshot looks better than the last.
A delivery drone drops off a package next to me on the lounger.
I open it to find a collection of designer clothes, each piece more stunning than the last.
Excitement bubbles up inside me as I try on each item, twirling in front of the mirror to admire how they fit.
The fabrics feel wonderful against my skin, and I notice that my posture has naturally improved since my transformation.
I stand at the edge of the pool, wiggling my toes against the warm concrete.
The water looks inviting, its surface rippling with pink reflections from the dome above.
Anya Mirror's voice comes through my earpiece once again, this time with a hint of warning.
"Remember, you don't want to mess up that perfect hair and makeup," she reminds me.
"But it's so hot," I protest, feeling the old farm girl in me stirring beneath the surface of my new persona.
"I've always loved swimming in the creek back home."
There's a pause before Anya responds.
"Well, just be careful," she says finally.
"And don't forget to reapply sunscreen afterward."
I take a deep breath, ignoring the AI's advice for once.
I can't resist the allure of that cool water any longer. With a mischievous grin, I launch myself into a messy cannonball, feeling the rush of excitement as I plunge beneath the surface.
Water splashes everywhere, catching me off guard with its chilliness despite the warmth of the sun.
As I resurface, sputtering and laughing, I hear a voice calling out from the side of the pool.
"That was quite the entrance," a young man says, grinning as he leans against the fence.
"I'm Alex, your neighbor from two doors down."
I float on my back, letting the water support my weight.
The coolness feels good against my skin, and I close my eyes, listening as Alex's laughter fades into the distance.
The sound of his voice grows fainter as he returns to his own yard next door.
I drift aimlessly, feeling the water ripple around me.
It's different from our farm creek, where the water was always a little murky and unpredictable.
This pool water is perfectly heated and chemically balanced for comfort.
But even with all the technology behind it, there's something peaceful about floating that brings me back to those summer swims in the creek.
After a while, I paddle to the deep end of the pool and start swimming laps using my old farm-girl freestyle stroke.
Anya Mirror protests through the outdoor speakers that my technique is messy and could use improvement, but I ignore her advice and dive underwater instead. The pool lights flicker around me as I swim deeper, watching how my hair floats around my face like pink seaweed.
I pull myself out of the pool, water streaming down my body.
Through the fence, I notice Alex is still watching me from his own yard, pretending to water his plants while sneaking glances in my direction.
The pink bikini clings to my skin as I walk over to retrieve my towel.
The way his eyes follow me makes me feel self-conscious, but also a little thrilled.
When I bend down to dry my legs, he accidentally knocks over his watering can.
Anya Mirror's voice comes through the speakers again, suggesting that I invite him over for drinks.
"Hey, Alex," I call out, wrapping the towel around myself.
"Do you want to come over for a drink?"
He looks up, a bit flustered, and nods with a smile. "Sure, I'd love that."
I dry off and head inside, still thinking about Alex's flustered smile.
Anya Mirror interrupts my daydreaming, reminding me about tomorrow's modeling interview.
She insists that I need a professional styling session and new outfits to make the right impression.
Using my phone, she books an appointment at Pink Paradise Salon and maps out a shopping route to the city's most exclusive boutiques.
I change into a casual pink sundress, grateful that I'm finally steady in my heels.
I sit at my vanity, watching as the robotic arms touch up my makeup and style my hair.
Reaching for my pink purse, I notice a small card has slipped out and fallen to the floor.
I pick it up, realizing it must have been tucked inside when I received the purse.
The card glows in my hand, displaying "Unlimited Shopping Spree - Welcome Gift" in holographic letters.
Anya Mirror immediately starts listing boutiques we should visit.
I hesitate, remembering how Dad always said to be careful with "free" gifts.
I walk into Pink Paradise Salon, where crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling and rows of floating chairs line the walls.
A holographic receptionist greets me, scanning the welcome card in my hand and gesturing for me to take a seat.
The chair automatically adjusts to fit my body as I sit down, and mechanical arms emerge with scissors and styling tools.
I grip the armrests nervously when the AI stylist announces it will give me "the signature look."
The arms begin sectioning my hair with precise movements, while screens above me show a digital preview of my future style.
Through the mirror, I notice other clients watching me with interest, whispering about "the farm girl."
I lean back in the chair, which tilts and adjusts to support my head.
The mechanical arms weave through my hair with expert precision, their metallic fingers deftly separating strands.
A holographic preview appears before me, projecting how my hair will transform into loose pink waves with subtle glitter highlights.
The process feels strange but fascinating as I watch the robotic tools work.
A warm mist envelops my hair, infusing it with a rose-scented treatment.
Tiny lasers emerge, zapping split ends and leaving my locks looking healthier than ever.
Other clients gather near the glass walls of the salon, recording on their phones as they watch the transformation.
I feel a bit like a celebrity under the spotlight.
The AI stylist announces it's starting the color process, and metallic fingers begin massaging pink dye into my scalp.
As the dye sets, I close my eyes, realizing that tomorrow's interview is just the beginning of a new chapter in my life.
I lean forward in the chair as the mechanical arms make their final adjustments to my hair.
The rose-scented mist clears, revealing a cascade of perfectly styled pink waves that shimmer with holographic glitter under the chandeliers.
My hands shake as I reach up to touch the silky strands, but Anya Mirror quickly warns me not to disturb the fresh style.
The other clients burst into applause, their phones still recording.
A stylist-bot spritzes my hair with setting spray while rotating my chair to display every angle in the surrounding mirrors.
I stand in front of the mirror, turning my head to see how the glitter catches the light.
Tiny rainbows dance on the walls as I move.
The stylist-bot offers a warm smile, satisfied with its work.
"Your new look is ready. You're a true city girl now."
I stare at my reflection, hardly recognizing myself.
The pink hair frames my face perfectly, and the glitter adds an extra touch of magic.
I practice poses and expressions in front of the mirror, trying to perfect my look for tomorrow's interview.
Anya Mirror, the AI assistant built into my apartment's mirror, guides me through it all.
"Relax your shoulders," she instructs as I try out a serious face.
"And remember to smile with your eyes."
I nod and try again, this time with a bright smile and a slight tilt of my head.
Anya Mirror nods her approval.
"You're getting there. Now, let's work on your walk."
She projects a hologram of a catwalk in front of me, and I practice strutting down it while she offers feedback on my posture and movements. After several attempts, I finally feel more confident.
I turn back to the mirror and strike another pose, this time with a subtle smirk and a hand on my hip.
Anya Mirror captures the moment in a hologram and displays it next to me.
"Perfect," she says.
"This is the look you want for the interview."
I study the hologram, taking in every detail of my expression and posture.
For the first time since arriving in this city, I see someone who looks like she belongs here.
Someone who exudes confidence and determination.
I stand in my bedroom, smoothing the pink silk dress over my hips.
Anya Mirror is reviewing my modeling portfolio on the wall screen, making sure everything is perfect for tomorrow's interview.
The mechanical arms of the styling chair make one final adjustment to my hair, and I take a deep breath before walking from the bed to the window.
My new heels click confidently on the marble floor, no wobbling anymore.
A notification pings in my ear, reminding me of the early morning interview.
I grab my designer purse and pack it with the contract papers.
At my vanity, I apply an extra coat of pink lipstick, then take one last look at my glittering reflection.
Finally, I grab my access card and head out.
I pause at my front door, taking a deep breath before stepping onto Pink Palm Avenue.
The morning sun filters through the city's protective dome, casting a rosy glow over the polished sidewalks.
My heels click confidently now as I join the stream of perfectly styled women heading downtown.
Holographic advertisements float overhead while delivery drones zip between buildings.
The familiar farm smells of earth and hay are replaced by artificial floral scents wafting from boutiques.
My new pink hair catches the light, drawing admiring glances from passersby.
I browse through the racks of designer dresses at Pink Petal Boutique, running my fingers over the silky fabrics.
The owner, Ms. Crystal, approaches with a warm smile.
"Welcome to Pink Petal. We have some beautiful pieces today."
I examine a sequined gown, feeling the intricate details.
Ms. Crystal circles me slowly, studying my posture and movements.
After a moment, she nods in satisfaction.
"Let's see how that dress looks on you."
I enter the dressing room, and she watches through the smart mirror as I put on the gown.
Anya Mirror's lessons kick in, and I strike several poses naturally.
Ms. Crystal's eyes light up.
"Perfect," she says.
"You have a fresh look that's exactly what my brand needs."
She pulls out a tablet and slides it across the counter.
"I'd like to offer you an exclusive deal to model our summer collection."
The contract glows pink as she hands it to me.
I sit down at the crystal counter, pen hovering over the glowing contract.
Ms. Crystal leans in, explaining the terms.
"This is a six-month contract. You'll be required to participate in two photo shoots, three runway shows, and make appearances at our social media events."
She points to a clause.
"There's also a stipulation that you can't model for any other boutique during the contract period."
My hand trembles slightly as I lower the pen to the tablet.
Dad always told me to read contracts carefully.
I scan each paragraph while Ms. Crystal taps her manicured nails on the counter.
The final clause catches my eye—something about "image maintenance requirements."
Before I can ask questions, Anya Mirror's voice whispers in my earpiece.
"You got this, girl. Just sign it."
I hesitate, looking up at Ms. Crystal.
"What exactly do you mean by 'image maintenance requirements'?"
Ms. Crystal smiles, her eyes glinting. "Oh, just a few enhancements to keep you aligned with our brand's aesthetic—nothing you can't handle."
I sit at the crystal counter, pen hovering over the glowing contract's signature line.
Ms. Crystal leans forward, her perfectly manicured nails tapping impatiently on the counter.
Through my earpiece, Anya Mirror's voice lists off the benefits of signing.
"Fame, fortune, designer clothes. You'll be living the dream."
My hand trembles slightly as I lower the pen to the tablet.
The pink ink flows smoothly as I sign my name.
I watch in awe as it shimmers and digitizes into the tablet's screen.
Ms. Crystal smiles, pressing her thumb to the screen to finalize the deal.
A notification dings on my phone—a message from Ms. Crystal with details of my first photo shoot tomorrow morning.
My stomach flutters with nervous anticipation as I clutch the tablet tightly.
I sit in my pink bedroom, surrounded by the soft glow of neon lights.
The tablet glows on my lap, displaying the details of tomorrow's photo shoot.
I scroll through the schedule, my eyes widening at the 6 AM call time.
Twelve outfit changes, each with a list of specific poses and expressions required.
I glance up at Anya Mirror, who watches me with her ever-present smile.
"Time to practice," she says through the speakers.
I stand in front of the mirror, tablet still clutched tightly in my hand.
Anya Mirror guides me through each pose, her voice echoing in my earpiece.
"Arch your back more, tilt your chin just so."
I try to mimic her instructions, but my movements feel stiff and unnatural.
Anya Mirror corrects me again and again until I finally get it right.
We practice for an hour, my muscles aching from holding the artificial poses. I collapse onto my bed, exhausted but exhilarated by the prospect of tomorrow's shoot.
I lay in my pink silk sheets, checking my phone every few minutes.
Anya Mirror dims the lights, suggesting I listen to calming music.
But my mind races, thoughts of tomorrow's shoot swirling through my head.
I get out of bed and organize the designer outfits for the morning, hanging them in order on the automated rack.
I set three backup alarms and practice deep breathing exercises Anya Mirror recommends.
The gentle hum of the city's night dome fills my room as I try to sleep, but memories of signing the contract keep me tossing and turning.
I toss and turn in my silk sheets, the soft glow of the city's night dome filtering through my window.
The hum of the city's machinery provides a constant background noise, a reminder that even in sleep, the city never truly rests.
I pull the covers tighter around me, feeling the softness of the fabric against my skin.
Anya Mirror dims the lights further, her voice whispering softly in my ear.
"Try listening to some calming music," she suggests.
I nod, feeling the weight of her words settle into my mind.
The sound of ocean waves fills the room, their gentle lapping against the shore creating a soothing melody.
But even as I close my eyes, I can still see flashes of light behind my eyelids—the camera flashes from tomorrow's photo shoot.
I roll over again, my new pink hair spilling across the pillow.
The mechanical closet whirs quietly in the corner, rotating through tomorrow's outfits one last time before settling into its usual position. I count three hovering drones passing by my window before my eyelids grow heavy with sleep.
In the quiet of the room, Anya Mirror's voice breaks the silence.
"Do you ever wonder what happens if you don't show up tomorrow?" she asks softly.
I sit up, startled by the question, and whisper back, "What do you mean, Anya?"
I sit up in bed and walk to my balcony, pushing open the glass doors.
The city stretches out before me, a sea of pink lights shimmering beneath the protective dome.
The mechanical whir of passing drones and the distant hum of traffic create an artificial lullaby.
I grip the railing, feeling the cool metal against my palms, and focus on counting my breaths like Mom taught me during harvest season.
One, two, three.
The night air carries the scent of synthetic flowers from the automated gardens below.
When a delivery drone zooms past my face, I step back inside, closing the glass doors behind me.
I wake before dawn, the pink lights of the city still glowing outside my window.
The photo shoot weighs heavily on my mind, and sleep eludes me.
I toss and turn in my silk sheets, the soft hum of Anya Mirror's voice trying to calm me.
Finally, I give up on sleep and get out of bed, drawn to the massive marble tub in the center of the room.
I turn on the faucet, watching as steaming hot water fills the tub.
Pink bubbles form on the surface, releasing a sweet floral scent into the air.
The sound of running water is familiar and comforting, reminding me of home.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
Anya Mirror asks, her voice filled with concern.
"You don't want to mess up your hair for the shoot."
I nod, knowing she's right, but needing something to calm my nerves.
I sink into the warm water, letting the bubbles envelop me.
Mechanical arms extend from the sides of the tub, offering bath oils and salts.
But I ignore them, content to simply float in the water and remember swimming in the creek back home. The warmth seeps into my muscles, melting away some of my tension.
"Anya, do you ever think about what life would be like outside the dome?" I murmur, staring at the ceiling.
"Every day," she replies, her voice tinged with a wistfulness I hadn't noticed before.
I sit up, curiosity piqued, and ask, "Have you ever been out there?"
"No," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
"But I've seen pictures. The world outside is so different from what we have in here."
I sink deeper into the water, watching as pink bubbles drift across the surface.
A mechanical arm extends from the side of the tub, offering a glittering pink brush.
I take it, remembering how I used to scrub potatoes with a similar brush back home.
Starting with my right foot, I begin scrubbing away the remaining calluses from farm life.
The brush's bristles tingle against my skin as dead skin falls away in the water.
Each stroke reveals softer, pinker skin underneath.
I lean back in the warm water, watching as pink bubbles float around me.
"Are you sure you want to do that?"
Anya Mirror asks.
"You're supposed to maintain your model appearance."
I ignore her, scooping up a handful of foam and blowing it into the air like I used to do as a child.
The bubbles catch the rosy light of the bathroom, creating tiny rainbow reflections on the marble walls.
I splash playfully, making bubble mountains and foam beards, ignoring the mechanical arms trying to hand me expensive bath products.
Finally, I dunk my head underwater, feeling my new pink hair spread out like seaweed.
As I resurface, the weight of my decision settles in, and I know there's no turning back.
I float in my pink bubble bath, watching my hair swirl around me in the water like a magical sea creature.
The marble tub feels like an underwater grotto as I twist and turn, making waves with my arms.
My newly transformed body moves through the water with grace, so different from my clumsy farm days.
When I finally surface and see my reflection in the mirrored walls, I'm struck by how much I resemble the mermaid princess from that ancient cartoon Mom used to play for me.
My pink glittering hair drips down my back, and my skin glistens with water droplets.
Anya's voice cuts through my thoughts, "You look like you belong in another world."
I smile, a mix of nostalgia and longing in my eyes.
"Maybe that's where I need to be," I reply softly, the weight of my words hanging in the steamy air.
I step out of the bathtub, water dripping down my body and onto the heated marble floor.
Mechanical arms extend from the wall, offering fluffy pink towels.
I hesitate for a moment, then reach out to take one.
As I do, I notice something different in the mirror's surface.
Anya is no longer just a voice; her face has materialized into a distinct holographic presence.
She looks eerily like me, but with more refined features and a flawless complexion.
Her eyes are bright and encouraging as she gestures to the towels with a nod.
I watch in fascination as her movements mirror mine exactly, like we're performing a synchronized dance.
"Let's show them your true beauty," she says, her voice echoing strangely in the steamy bathroom.
I stand there, dripping, and study her reflection.
She smiles and nods again, urging me to take the towel.
I finally reach out, and as I wrap the plush fabric around my body, I realize it's the softest thing I've ever felt against my skin.
The steam from the bath creates a dreamy haze around us, as if we're in a fantasy world.
I look down at my pink hair, which is still steaming from the hot water.
The strands curl around my face like a halo of mist.
As I move, the steam follows me, creating an ethereal aura around my body.
It's like I'm floating on air, surrounded by a magical cloud.
I watch myself in the mirror, mesmerized by the sight of my new self.
Anya Mirror's holographic face watches me intently, her perfect features mirroring mine with an uncanny accuracy. I stand there for a moment, frozen in time, as if trapped in a surreal painting.
The steam swirls around me, creating a dreamy atmosphere that feels almost otherworldly.
Suddenly, the sound of running water breaks the spell, and I remember where I am.
I turn to leave the bathroom, but my hand hesitates on the doorknob.
Water pools at my feet as I stand there, unsure of what's waiting for me on the other side of the door.
The cold metal against my skin brings me back to reality.
This isn't just some fantasy; it's real life now.
I'm no longer the dirty farm girl who arrived here just days ago.
I stand in front of the closet, and mechanical arms extend from the wall, holding up a dress.
The fabric shimmers like the surface of a lake, reflecting the light in a mesmerizing dance.
It's pink, but not just any pink – it's a deep, rich shade that seems to glow from within.
The arms hold the dress out for me, and I can see intricate crystal beading along the hem.
It looks impossibly delicate, as if it might shatter into a thousand pieces if I touch it.
I reach out hesitantly, and as soon as my fingers make contact with the fabric, the mechanical arms begin to move.
They slide the dress over my head, adjusting the straps to fit perfectly on my shoulders.
The fabric feels impossibly light against my skin, like a whisper of silk.
I look down at myself in amazement as the arms continue to adjust and smooth out the dress. When they're done, I turn to look in the full-length mirror that covers one wall of my room.
The dress fits me like a glove, accentuating every curve of my body.
The crystal beading catches the light as I move, sending tiny rainbows dancing across the walls.
I can't believe this is me – it's like looking at a completely different person.
I reach down to grab my old pair of flats that are lying on the floor next to my bed.
But before I can slip them on, Anya Mirror interrupts me again.
"Wait," she says urgently.
I pause, looking up at her reflection in surprise.
She shakes her head disapprovingly and gestures to a pair of towering stilettos that are sitting on a shelf inside my closet. "Those," she says firmly.
I hesitate for a moment before reaching for them.
As soon as I pick up one of the shoes, holographic sparkles flicker to life along its surface, matching the color of my hair perfectly.
I stare at it in wonder before sliding it onto my foot and buckling the tiny straps around my ankle.
My fingers tremble slightly as I work on securing them tightly enough so they don't slip off when I walk.
When I'm finished with both shoes, I grip the edge of my closet door for support and slowly rise up onto my feet.
I take a deep breath, ready to step into the world beyond the door, where reality and fantasy blur into something entirely new.
I sit at my vanity, and mechanical arms extend from the wall, beginning to adjust my hair.
I'm still unsteady on these heels, but I try to remain as still as possible.
Suddenly, a soft swooshing sound catches my attention.
I turn to see a pink envelope sliding across the marble floor toward me.
I wobble over to retrieve it, the crystal beading on my dress catching the morning light and sending tiny rainbows dancing across the walls.
As I reach down to pick up the envelope, I notice that it bears an official city seal embossed in gold on one corner.
The address is written in elegant holographic script: "Miss Aria Stone."
I break the seal and pull out the contents.
As soon as I do, a 3D projection springs up from the envelope, filling the room with a vibrant image of the Eiffel Tower wrapped in pink lights.
A melodic voice speaks to me from within the projection, its words echoing off the walls: "Congratulations, Miss Aria Stone. You have been selected for a luxury getaway to Paris! Enjoy VIP access to exclusive fashion shows, indulge in rejuvenating spa treatments, and experience all that this enchanting city has to offer. Your journey awaits!"
My hands tremble slightly as I read through the details printed on the card inside.
I stand in front of my full-length mirror, mesmerized by my complete transformation.
The crystal-beaded dress catches the light with every movement, sending shimmering waves across the walls.
My pink hair, now styled in loose waves, shimmers with holographic highlights that match the color of my shoes perfectly.
Even my skin has a radiant glow to it, as if infused with an ethereal quality.
The mechanical arms adjust the dress one last time, smoothing out any wrinkles before retracting back into the wall.
I take a deep breath and practice walking in these unfamiliar stilettos.
Each step feels like a delicate dance, as if I'm floating across the floor rather than actually touching it.
Finally satisfied with my movements, I twirl in front of the mirror, watching as the dress floats around me like magic.
It's a far cry from the practical cotton clothes I used to wear on the farm. As a child, I would read fairy tales about magical transformations and dream of what it would be like to be one of those storybook princesses.
Now, watching my reflection mimic every graceful movement I make, I feel as if I've stepped into one of those enchanted worlds.
I stand in my bedroom, packing for my trip to Paris.
In front of me, a sleek pink suitcase hovers above the floor, its lid open and ready to receive my belongings.
Mechanical arms extend from the wall, holding up a designer dress.
Anya Mirror flickers to life, projecting a holographic packing list that floats in mid-air next to me.
The list is filled with items I've never owned before – crystal-studded evening gowns, silk pajamas, and delicate lingerie.
I watch as the mechanical arms fold each garment with precision and place it neatly inside the suitcase.
As they work, I try sneaking in a few of my old cotton dresses from the farm, but the arms quickly snatch them away and replace them with newer, more luxurious items.
Finally, a small drone flies into my room carrying a pink envelope.
It hovers next to me before gently dropping the envelope into my hands. Inside are fresh passport photos of myself.
I barely recognize the person staring back at me – gone is the messy-haired girl from the farm, replaced by someone with perfectly styled pink locks and flawless makeup.
Even my features seem more refined, as if every imperfection has been smoothed away.
I tuck the photos into my suitcase and zip it shut.
"Anya, is this really me?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes, Aria," she replies softly, her holographic form shimmering with a gentle smile. "But remember, the real magic isn't in the clothes or the makeup; it's in you."
I stand in my marble foyer, surrounded by a mountain of pink designer luggage.
Each piece glows with holographic tags, indicating where they should be placed in the city's automated transportation system.
The mechanical arms from my closet continue to bring out more bags – evening gowns, shoes, and accessories for Paris.
I reach down to lift the first suitcase, expecting it to be light.
But as soon as I touch the handle, I realize how wrong I am.
The weight is substantial, as if it's filled with rocks instead of clothes.
Back on the farm, I could easily carry a bale of hay or a bucket of water, but these crystal-studded bags are another story altogether.
Just as I'm about to give up, a hovering platform appears next to me.
It extends a mechanical arm and gently takes the suitcase from my grasp. "Allow me," it says in a melodic voice.
"I'll ensure your luggage reaches its destination safely."
I watch as the platform begins to stack the suitcases neatly on top of each other.
"Thank you," I say gratefully, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment at my own weakness.
As the platform continues its work, I notice that it has left one small makeup case on the floor next to me.
I bend down and pick it up, determined to carry at least something myself.
Just then, the doorbell rings, and I hear a familiar voice call out, "Aria, are you ready for the adventure of a lifetime?"
I turn to see my best friend, Lila, standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with excitement.
"Lila, you won't believe it," I say, holding up the pink envelope. "I've been chosen for a luxury getaway to Paris!"
I settle into my first-class pod on the Paris-bound flight, marveling at the plush pink interior.
The pod is equipped with everything I could possibly need – a mini-fridge stocked with champagne, a personal entertainment system, and even a small vanity mirror.
But what really catches my attention is the robotic attendant standing beside me.
She's dressed in a matching pink jumpsuit and has glowing blue eyes that seem to scan me from head to toe.
"Good morning, Aria," she says in a melodic voice.
"My name is Beautia, and I'll be your personal beautician for this journey."
I watch as Beautia presses a button on the wall, causing my seat to recline into a lounging position.
She extends two mechanical arms from her sides, each holding a different beauty tool.
One arm holds a pair of nail clippers, while the other holds a bottle of shimmering pink polish. "First, we'll start with your nails," she explains, reaching out to take my hand in hers.
"I'll shape them to perfection and then apply a coat of our signature polish."
As Beautia begins filing my nails, I notice something strange – they've already grown out from my farm calluses.
It's as if they've been transformed overnight to match my new luxurious lifestyle.
The vibrations of the plane mix with the whirring of Beautia's tools as she works her magic.
I watch through the window as the city dome shrinks below us, replaced by fluffy white clouds and endless blue sky.
Meanwhile, Beautia shapes, buffs, and paints my nails with precision.
