Not Quite The Same

Gwen stood in front of the bathroom mirror, observing the reflection staring back at her. She knew her condition hadn’t been well but was not aware of the extent of it until she took in the dark circles under her eyes and the paleness of her skin.

How long had she gone without the sun?

Propped up against the mirror on the side was her phone, its screen displaying a social media app with a video post rewinding itself each time it ended. It depicted a girl vlogging a celebration she had attended in the city late into the night, with fireworks exploding in the sky above, illuminating the buzzing crowd below. 

The girl appeared to be the epitome of excited. She had an arm slung over a friend’s shoulder, a cool smirk playing on her lips as her eyes twinkled with the joy she must have been feeling. There were other individuals featured in the vlog with the same hopeful expression. 

In the post’s caption, it stated that the post was uploaded 30 minutes ago, though the date in the video’s title indicated that it was recorded just the day before. The bolded username stared back at Gwen, the lettering impossible for her to ignore.

Alice_02

The video made her chest feel hollow. While the girl and her friends were out having the night of their lives, she had been throwing up after having awakened with an upset stomach.

It had been happening for a while now – the chest pain, the after-sleep sickness. It didn’t seem to have anything to do with her meals, and there was nothing wrong with her health the last time she went to the hospital for a check up. Overall, there seemed to be no reason for her to feel so horrible… 

Except there was.

Watching the girl’s vlog, it wasn’t as if she was monitoring a celebrity. No, she knew who she was – they were the same age, went to the same high school, even were part of the same class. They have even been grouped up for projects before.

But even with all the similarities between them, they were still so… different.

‘Why… can’t I be her?’

***

“Please introduce yourself.”

Gwen stiffened at the words, although the tone was kind and gentle. 

Despite the vastness of the room, the people there only took up a small centre of it. Gwen sat on a singular chair facing a row of tables across from her, occupied by the members of the school’s student council in their velvet uniforms. The table in the middle belonged to the president – Maeve – who was the only one smiling at her, while to either side of her sat the other members with positions on the leadership board; each of them had a few pieces of paper which they were shifting through, a pen in their hands.

“Erm, yes,” Gwen stuttered, clearing her throat and training her gaze on Maeve, although she had to resist the urge to stare elsewhere. “My name is Gwen from class 2-B. I-It’s nice to meet all of you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” the student council members echoed in variations. 

“We’ll start the interview with a few warm-up questions,” Maeve declared, as she glanced at one of the papers in her hands. “Could you tell us a little bit about yourself?”

“O-of course,” Gwen started, taking a few seconds of silence to arrange her thoughts. “I… consider myself to be a hard-working person. I have a lot of pride in the work I do and I always make sure that I do a good job in any tasks given to me. When I’m not schooling, I do hobbies of sketching and building trinkets from whatever I can get my hands on…”

The students before her seemed to write down each time she spoke of something, some of their expressions shifting or pinching at certain parts of what she said. This was what she despised about interviews – the process of willingly exposing yourself for others’ judgement. 

“Would you say you’re a creative person then?” The president questioned, writing something down.

“Y-yes,” Gwen replied. “But… in a specific way. I’m not really spontaneous – I like following steps and figuring out the order of things. Like, building blocks.”

Maeve smiled at that and nodded. “I can relate to that,” she sympathised before continuing. “I’ll pass it over to Lyra to ask you the more technical questions.”

One of the members on her right side finally lifted her gaze to meet Gwen’s. Her expression was more stoic and less welcoming than the president’s. 

“I’ll start off with the basic question,” Lyra stated bluntly. “Why do you want to join the student council?”

Gwen spoke the words she had practiced in anticipation for this question. “I want to gain valuable experiences. I see the work that each of you do and I feel that I would be able to improve myself by participating.”

Lyra’s expression did not shift as she noted down her answer. “The tasks that we do are not easy. It requires a lot of time, effort, and commitment. Are you willing to invest all of that to join?”

“Yes,” Gwen responded curtly, although in her mind, she was still trying to convince herself that she was ready.

“You said before that you like following steps and are not spontaneous,” Lyra went on, repeating her exact words. “Would you say that adapting is not your strong suit?”

The statement startled Gwen a bit, as if she had been attacked, although she tried not to show it in her expression. It was then she realised that they weren’t just noting down what she said but reading between the lines to evaluate what she didn’t. Of course – no sane person would talk about their weaknesses during an evaluation.

“… I wouldn’t say that,” she replied, inducing some confidence and honesty in her words. 

“While adaptability isn’t one of my greatest strengths, I would say I have no problem going with the flow of things. If something unexpected were to happen, I believe I would be able to react accordingly. And it is also one of the things I hope to improve on if I were given the opportunity to join the student council.”

This earned her a nod from the interviewer. “We tend to have things piled on us at unexpected times,” Lyra acknowledged. “It would be… easier for you if you were flexible.”

The comment seemed more like an advice than a critique. Lyra asked a few more questions about her work ethics – which Gwen was able to answer with little doubts – before passing it back to the president. 

“Thank you Lyra,” Maeve said, before directing her gaze at another student council member – a person sitting on the far end of her left side. “I’ll pass it over to Alice to conduct the last set of questions for this interview.”

At the sound of her name, Gwen felt her blood run cold.

For at the far end of the row, sat her classmate – the one she idolised most. 

Maybe it was just her, but Gwen always found it awkward to be at a lower position than her classmates or anyone of her age for that matter – they had the same level of education, same degree of exposure and maturity, yet there was still a difference in their social status. It made her feel inferior under Alice’s gaze.

Both of them played their role of professionalism as they schooled their facial features to be indifferent to one another, not a hint of familiarity in sight as the interview continued. 

“My questions are mainly related to the social aspect of our work,” Alice clarified. “You see, working in the student council requires you to work together with the other members. There’s a lot of interdependency in the tasks we do, so communication is vitally important here. How do you perceive your social ability?”

The question caught Gwen off guard – her communications skills were one of the things she was the most insecure about. Though she expected for there to be questions about it, she had not expected them to be so broad.

“Sorry, come again?” She asked. Without a trace of judgement, Alice repeated the question. 

“How do you see your social capabilities? Are you more of a listener or a talker? Do you lead conversations or follow them? Things like that.”

“Ah, I see. Uh, give me a moment to think about it please,” Gwen nervously requested, earning a nod from Alice to proceed.

Thoughts ran through her head, not at all rational nor organised. She didn’t anticipate for such a question to be asked – a question that required her to reflect on herself deeply, in addition to sitting in front of numerous scrutinising gazes. 

On one hand, she wanted to give them the answer they would like to hear – the answer which would make her appear as a promising candidate – yet a part of her knew that she did not have the self-assurance to deliver it convincingly. And the worst thing you could do in an interview was to be caught telling a lie. 

On the other hand, if she were to say the truth, it would definitely be a weakness they would take note off. And that might influence their decision in the end.

But the main reason she found the question hard to answer was because it was being asked by Alice – a classmate who she had worked and interacted with before. There was no doubt that, during their various exchanges, Alice had subconsciously observed and evaluated her character. After all, she had done the same herself.

What if she said something – truth or not – and Alice disagreed? What would these people think of her then? Have they talked about her already?

She realised that she had been quiet for too long now.

“I…” she started, just to fill the silence. “Consider myself to be more of a listener than a talker. That being said, I don’t think I’m quiet.”

Once she began, she had to keep going. “I’ll speak my opinion whenever I think it is necessary or to bring up ideas. I’m not dominant in any way, so I wouldn’t take the initiative to lead, but I am not a passive follower either. I am very much active. That’s… how I would perceive myself.”

Her heart sank as she saw her classmate’s eyebrow raised a bit at her response – had she given the wrong answer?

“You’ll be put to work with a mix of old and new members, some you may know, and some you may not,” Alice immediately continued – her dismissal of her answer making Gwen feel uncomfortable. “Do you believe you will be able to work well with them regardless of who they are?” 

A safe question. “Yes,” she replied, though she had lost her initial confidence. “It is also one of the things I would like to work on if I were to join – my teamwork.”

A few more simple questions were asked, which she was able to respond to. Then, it came down to the last question.

“This is just to get to know you better,” Alice commented. “But is there someone you idolise? Who is it, and why?”

‘You.’

The answer came to her mind in such an instant that she had to catch herself from blurting it out loud. But staring at her classmate, it was hard to think of any other response.

After all, the whole reason she wanted to join the student council was because of her. 

“There’s… this friend of mine,” she started, making the decision to be vague and slightly inaccurate in her truth to hide the real meaning behind her words. They weren’t close enough to consider each other friends after all.

“She’s… amazing, to say the least. She’s a good leader, a fun friend, and, despite being very busy, she’s able to be successful in everything she does.” Throughout her answer, she did not avoid eye contact with Alice. “I really want to be like her,” she ended, hoping that she didn’t sound too vulnerable.

A part of her wanted Alice to pick up that she was talking about her and was mildly disappointed when she didn’t react, other than saying, “Thank you for your answers.”

It wasn’t a surprise though. Because, while Gwen had interest in Alice, there was no reason for her classmate to reciprocate it. 

She had nothing compared to what she was.

“Thank you very much for your time,” Maeve declared, snapping Gwen’s attention back to her. “Before we end, do you have any questions for us?”

By then, Gwen was too mentally and emotionally exhausted to think of any. “N-no,” she immediately replied. “No, I don’t.”

“Well, then we thank you again for taking your time to do this interview,” the president gestured at the door, indicating that she may leave. “We’ll let you know through text if you were successful.”

“A-ah, okay,” Gwen softly muttered, getting up from her seat and making for the exit. “Thank you.”

Before she left, she glanced back at her classmate.

Alice didn’t look up from her papers.

***

Gwen watched the video loop one last time, ending with a shot of a polaroid picture of Alice surrounded by her friends, holding a firecracker stick. She appeared radiant and full of life.

When she turned off her phone and looked back at her reflection, she saw the exact opposite – a face dull and void of hope.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, attempting to calm herself down, only to be violated by an onslaught of images in her mind.

The first was a memory of her receiving a text, stating that she passed the interview, followed by her starting the probationary period – a period that was so intense, she found her mental and physical health deteriorating and was forced by her parents to quit for her own good. When she reported her condition and handed the letter of resignation to the president, she was met with nothing more than compassion – that she understood how stressful it was and that health was always more important.

That just worked to make her feel worse about herself. 

She forced her eyes open to break the montage, realising that she was now covered in cold sweat. Heaving a sigh, she locked the bathroom door and filled up the bathtub with water, before removing her clothes and dipping herself inside.

Sitting in the water for a moment, she let her body adjust itself to the cold temperature. When she felt comfortable enough, she finally allowed herself to cry.

Because a part of her – the small part that still had some degree of hope – had believed that her and Alice were no different than one another. That, if her classmate could make it on to the student council, then surely she could too. That she had what it took to be the person she idolised.

But it was clear that they were not quite the same – that they were different enough that, no matter how hard she tried, Gwen would never be her.

Even though she wished so badly to be.

‘Why… Why am I the person that I am? Why can’t I be someone else?’

With every thought, she allowed herself to sink deeper into the water, until her whole being was submerged, giving herself up to the water’s pressure.

‘If the concept of rebirth was real… could I be someone different?’

Written By: Zi Yi

Edited By: Zhen Li

Recommended Articles

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *