Chapter 4

There's solace in knowing that at least Mia, my childhood companion, doesn't harbor the same aversion toward me as Nathan does.

In the year of my awakening, Mia had departed for America to further her education. We hadn't met since then, only exchanging brief messages on social media.

Her absence left a void in my heart.

To be honest, I dread solitude. I yearn for affection and companionship, yet I feel as though I was destined to be unloved. My parents always favored my vibrant sister, while my friends would quickly lose interest in my introverted nature, seeking more exciting company.

The impersonator Olivia, however, was my polar opposite. She effortlessly drew people in, captivating everyone around her. Within two years, she had cultivated a vast social circle.

Upon my return, people reached out eagerly, keen to meet. I accepted every invitation with optimism. But I soon realized I couldn't match their enthusiasm. I lacked their passion for classical music history, idols, or celebrities. Unlike the impersonator Olivia, I couldn't command attention or charm effortlessly in social settings.

Once, her friends even coaxed me onto a stage during a gathering. "Olivi, sing for us!" they encouraged.

I stood motionless under the spotlight, my face flushing crimson. "I can't," I mumbled. "I'm tone-deaf."

Their playful taunts intensified. Left with no choice, I stumbled through a rendition of "July," forgetting half the lyrics and singing off-key.

After that, the invitations ceased. Their parting words echoed in my mind: "Olivi, you're somewhat different from before."

Hurt but resigned, I reverted to my solitary routine: alternating between home, the lab, and the piano room. It didn't matter. I was accustomed to it. Or so I convinced myself.

On my birthday, I took leave, applied subtle makeup, and went to greet Mia at the airport.

She spotted me instantly, rushing over excitedly—but the surprise in her eyes was unmistakable.

"Why are you dressed so conservatively?" she exclaimed. "Where's your alluring camisole? And your voluminous curls? You've straightened your hair?" Her tone softened as she added, "Olivi, why do I sense you're... a bit different from before?"

That word again. Different. It stung like a sharp needle.

Forcing a smile, I straightened up and replied, "You've changed too. You look more beautiful."

Mia, with her flowing waves, form-fitting camisole dress, and stylish motorcycle jacket, exuded confidence and allure—a complete transformation from the sweet girl-next-door she'd been two years prior.

"Don't you remember? We got our hair permed together!" she joked, tossing her curls dramatically before draping an arm over my shoulder. "Come on, dinner's on me! Oh, and I brought you a present!"

Indeed, we had once gotten our hair permed together.

Back then, if Olivia had taken Mia to the salon, she would've left smiling, praising "me" for my impeccable taste.

During dinner, Mia dominated the conversation while I listened. She noticed something was amiss and posed a few probing questions, but when I evaded answering, she eventually dropped the subject.

Before parting, she handed me a rare piano CD.

The impersonator Olivia had mentioned it to Mia just once, yet Mia had remembered.

I couldn't help but recall a similar incident from years ago when I told Mia I wanted the limited edition Lego "Snow Mountain Cabin" set for my birthday. She'd simply laughed and said, "What's so fun about Lego?" before gifting me an expensive set of cosmetics instead.

Her smug expression as she presented the gift left me feeling empty.

But I had learned to let it go.

Don't resist anymore, Olivia, I told myself. Accept your fate.

No one's pleased to have you back—not Mia, not my mom, and certainly not Nathan. They all prefer the vivacious, charismatic Olivia.

No, in their minds, I'm the imposter Olivia.

It was past ten when I arrived home. The house was dark, except for the soft glow of a solitary candle on a cake resting on the coffee table.

Nathan was there, seated in the shadows. The flickering light danced across his face, softening his features in a way that made him appear almost gentle.

"Olivi, is that you?"

He must've heard me approaching. Slowly, he opened his eyes, peering through the dim light. When he realized it was me, his expression changed. He stood abruptly, crossing the room in a few quick strides before pulling me into a tight embrace.