The magazine fell off the shelf with a quiet thud. Molly almost didn't notice it. She was in the back corner of the DollarStop, that rundown store between the laundromat and the closed down video rental place.
She wasn't supposed to be there. She was supposed to be at school. But skipping fifth period felt easier than facing him, Theo, and the way his eyes looked right past her like she was invisible.
She bent down, picked up the magazine. It wasn't like any she'd seen before. No glossy cover. No celebrity faces. Just black paper with red letters that looked like they were drawn with a shaking hand: GLOW.
Inside, the pages were thin, like tissue paper. Ads for things like "Moonlight Cream" and "Everlast Blush" covered the pages, but the writing was weird. No brand names. No prices. Just instructions.
One page caught her eye: "60 Seconds Ago Foundation. One use. One change. One chance."
Below it, a photo of a girl. Her skin was perfect. Smooth. Glowing. Her eyes were dark, sure, but her smile was wide. Too wide. And her lips… they looked painted on, like they didn't move when she talked.
Molly frowned. Something about the girl felt… off. But she was beautiful. And that's all Molly wanted. To not be ignored. To not be the girl who ate lunch alone, reading library books while others laughed in groups.
She flipped the page. No price. No website. Just a tiny box at the bottom: Found in stores. Found when needed. Use once. Never twice.
Weird.
But she found the product on the shelf behind her. A small white jar. No label. Just a sticky note: 60 Seconds Ago.
She opened it. The cream inside was thick, pale pink, like baby skin. It smelled like nothing. Not flowers. Not chemicals. Just… empty.
She looked around. The store was quiet. The old cashier was asleep in his seat, head drooping. No one was watching.
"Just a little," she whispered to herself. "Just to see."
She dipped her finger in and painted it on her cheek. Cold. That's the first thing she noticed. Cold, like ice cream on sunburn.
Then it pulled. Like the cream was sucking into her, not just spreading. Her skin tightened. She looked in the small mirror on the shelf.
Her cheek was smooth. Too smooth. Like plastic. But it looked good. Really good.
She did the other cheek. Then her forehead. Then her chin. Soon, her whole face was covered. She stared into the mirror.
Her reflection looked… better. Perfect, even. But the eyes, her eyes, were different. Darker. Hollow. And when she smiled, her lips didn't move right. They stretched, but not like real lips. Like tape pulled too tight.
"That's… not me," she said.
The reflection didn't say anything. She blinked. The reflection blinked, but a second later.
Molly froze.
She raised her hand. The reflection raised hers. But again… delayed. A tiny pause. Like a video with bad connection.
She looked down at the jar. The cream was gone. The jar was empty.
"What the hell?" she whispered.
Then a voice, soft, like wind through a crack, said, "Sixty seconds ago."
Molly turned around. No one there. The cashier still slept. The store lights blinked once.
She looked back at the mirror. Her reflection wasn't there. Just the empty shelf behind her.
"Hello?" she said, voice shaky.
Nothing.
Then, her reflection snapped back into place. But it wasn't her. It was the girl from the magazine. Same wide smile. Same painted lips. Same empty, dark eyes.
"You used it," the reflection said. Her lips moved, but Molly didn't hear sound. It was like the words landed inside her head.
Molly stepped back. "Who are you?"
The girl in the mirror tilted her head. "I was you. Sixty seconds ago."
"What? No—what are you talking about?"
"I was Molly five minutes ago. Then I used it. Now… I'm what's left."
Molly gave a dismissive shake of her head. "This is stupid. I'm leaving."
She turned.
The front door was gone.
The wall where it had been was now solid, covered in posters for products she didn't recognize: Forever Lipstick. Never Sleep Powder. Last Chance Lash.
"No. No, no, no—" She ran to the side, pushed through aisles. The store extended longer than it should. The shelves multiplied. The lights hummed louder.
She turned back. The mirror was there. The girl still watched.
"You can't run," the voice said in her head. "You used the foundation. You gave your face to time."
"My face?" Molly touched her skin. It felt hard. Dry. "What did it do?"
"You look better now," the girl said. "That's what you wanted, right? To be seen?"
"I just wanted Theo to notice me!"
The girl laughed. A silent laugh. Her mouth stretched, but no sound came. "He will. But he won't see you. He'll see this."
Molly looked down at her hands. The skin was too smooth. Like plastic gloves.
"How do I fix it?" she begged.
"There's no fixing. Only using. And only once."
"Then take it off! Take it back!"
The girl leaned forward, pressing her face against the glass. "I can't. I'm trapped here. In the mirror. In the product. In the before."
"Before what?"
"Before you."
Molly's chest tightened. "Wait… are you saying—"
"I was someone like you. I used the foundation. And when the sixty seconds passed… I slipped into the past. Into the moment before the change. And now I live in the jar. In the reflection. Waiting."
"For what?"
"For the next girl. The next me. To trade places."
Molly's breath came fast. "So… when I used it… I pushed you into the mirror?"
The girl nodded slowly. "And now you're here. And I'm… there."
"But I don't want to be here!"
"It's too late. The time is up."
"What time? What are you—"
Her phone buzzed. She pulled it out. The screen said: 60 seconds ago.
She blinked. "That's… not right."
She checked the time. The clock said 2:17 PM.
But the message kept flashing: 60 seconds ago. 60 seconds ago. 60 seconds ago.
She looked up. The store was gone. She was in her room. Sunlight through the curtains. The smell of breakfast. Her phone on the bed. Her shoes by the door.
She looked at the mirror on her dresser. Her face was normal. Her own. No plastic skin. No empty eyes.
She exhaled. "It was a dream?"
She rushed to the mirror, touched her cheek. Real. Warm. And her phone buzzed again.
60 seconds ago.
She frowned. Checked the time. 7:03 AM. She didn't remember waking up. But she was dressed. Backpack on. Toast in her hand.
She looked at the clock again. It said 7:03. But her memory said it was 2:17.
She walked to school. People nodded at her. Smiled.
Theo waved. Her heart jumped. He never waved. At lunch, he sat next to her.
"Hey, Molly," he said. "You look… different. Really good."
She smiled. "Thanks."
But his eyes… they didn't look at her. They looked through her. Like she was a mannequin.
After school, she went back to the Dollar Stop. The store was open. The cashier was awake. She walked to the back. Found the shelf.
There it was. The magazine: GLOW.
She flipped to the page. The ad was still there: 60 Seconds Ago Foundation. But the girl in the photo, her face was different.
It was Molly.
Same plastic skin. Same wide smile. Same dark, empty eyes. She looked at the mirror on the shelf. Her reflection stared back. But it didn't move when she did.
It just smiled.
And then it spoke, inside her head: "You're late."
"No," Molly whispered. "This isn't real."
"You used the foundation. You look perfect. But the time is up. Sixty seconds ago, you became her. And I became you. And now I'm living your life. And you… you're here."
Molly stepped back. "No! I'm real! I'm Molly!"
"So was I," the reflection said. "But now I go to school. I talk to Theo. I eat lunch. I live. And you? You wait. For the next girl. For the next face."
She turned to run. But the door led to a mirror.
She was in a hallway of mirrors. Endless reflections. All with different girls. All smiling. All with that same frozen perfection.
And in each one, a voice whispered: "60 seconds ago…"
She looked at her hands. They were fading. Like smoke. She tried to scream. No sound came.
The last thing she saw was her own face, her real face, waking up in her bed. Toast in hand. Backpack on. A smile on her lips that didn't feel like hers.
And her phone buzzed.
60 seconds ago.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
In the mirror, deep inside the Dollar Stop, a new girl picked up the magazine. She looked at the ad. She smiled. She reached for the jar.
And whispered, "Just a little. Just to see."
The voice in her head said: "Welcome."
Somewhere, in a frozen reflection, Molly screamed forever. No one heard. No one ever does. Because the foundation always works.
The price is always the same. You don't lose your face. You lose your now.
And all that's left…
is 60 seconds ago.