Jack's breath intake got caught in his throat... as he stared at his reflections.

  Drinking in every detail he is seeing in the mirror.

  The body staring back was his, yet... looks different?

  His once-scrawny frame had filled out, not bulky, but built?

  This is like Peter Parker! When he became a superhero!

  Defined muscles replaced the lean lines he was familiar with, striking a perfect balance – proportional, not exaggerated.

  Broader shoulders, more pronounced collarbones, and a firmer chest transformed his physique.

  Jack pressed a palm against his abs, tracing the faint ridges with his fingers.

  He can feel himself feeling happy about this. he's not a materialistic guy but... he couldn't deny the thrill of this newfound physical confidence.

  "Shit... This feels all surreal..." He lifted his arms, flexing slightly, and watched as the muscles shifted subtly.

  He turned left, then right, verifying the changes.

  This was real.

  Exhaling, he pressed his hands against the sink for support.

  His racing heart echoed the turmoil in his mind. Is this normal? He found himself asking.

  Awakening came with changes—he'd seen it before.

  People unlocking their powers experienced minor physical improvements. But this?

  This was more. His fingers twitched, drawing his attention. His power. The void.

  Was this transformation connected? Jack examined his hands, searching for any signs of change.

  They felt the same. No overwhelming strength, no hidden energy reservoir.

  Yet, the proof stared him in the face: improved vision to point of him not needing his glasses anymore...and transformed body.

  Jack swallowed, his mind racing. This was just the beginning.

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  He looked up once again to the mirror, this time he studied his face.

  His pores seemed to get smaller, his face become... youthful?

  "I looked more.... Handsome?" feeling a bit shy saying it out loud.

  He stares some more at his reflections

  Jack can't wait how people will react to him! Then he paused.

  .........

  But oh, there is only a few people that would may or may not be able to tell...

  The neighbors... Maybe the kid next door, the speedy neighbor... and Mister White.

  Then he remembered that the old man was at the hospital and won't be able to come back at the store to see him for a while or forever.

  Jack's face crumpled.

  And oh, Mister Hughes. His boss. The store owner.

  .........

  What a sad life he has. He realized.

  "Hah..." He sighed. Shaking his head, he proceeded on to wash his face to shake the remnants of sleep.

  He looked up again at the mirror, still in high spirits, despite the fact that only a few people would notice his small changes.

  .........

  "Crazy" He whispered.

  ********************************

  He was only able to get out of the bathroom an hour later.

  Jack had changed into a hooded plaid shirt with a drawstring, layered over a worn white shirt underneath.

  A pair of black skinny jeans... it was hard to move in them. They had suddenly gotten smaller.

  He pondered how much he'd need to withdraw from his meager emergency funds.

  Should he just buy one pair of jeans? He'd have to wash and wear them repeatedly until he received his next salary from the convenience store.

  Then he remembered, it might be impossible for now.

  Jack's gaze fell on the calendar. One week. That's how long the store would be closed for renovations.

  Which reminded him that his salary was tied to the store's operation.

  He let out a deep sigh, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. "Well, I guess I have no choice but to use those emergency funds for now to get by."

  If the store owner, Mister Hughes, wasn't so frugal, they could've had the store up and running in no time.

  There were superpowered individuals with reconstruction abilities, like the infamous "Re-winder" who could restore a building to its former state in minutes.

  But, of course, such services came with a hefty price tag – one that Mister Hughes was unwilling to pay.

  It would cost a lot, and his boss might use the renovation expenses as an excuse to withhold his salary.

  But even if that was the case, Jack realized that Mister Hughes might not be able to pay him regardless.

  Whether he chose the expensive 'Re-winder' service or the manual approach, the outcome seemed uncertain.

  "Should I just resign and ask for back pay?" Jack wondered.

  Sighing and completely accepting his salary's fate, Jack shuffled to the kitchen, his bare feet making soft slapping sounds on the floor.

  He opened the fridge, scanning the contents with a blank expression, grateful that he had asked his boss if he can take home, some of those groceries that got damage beyond repair.

  It's still edible...? Only the packaging is what's really damaged? Right?

  ................

  Anyways... what was he supposed to do on his day off? He hadn't had one in so long, he'd forgotten how to relax.

  He settled for making toast and brewing coffee. As he waited, Jack wandered to the window and stared out at the city.

  The sun shone, casting a warm glow over the skyscrapers. People bustled below, going about their daily business. Jack felt a pang of envy.

  They look so sure where they are going... while I....

  The coffee maker—his one and only selfish electric appliance—beeped, snapping him back to reality. He poured a cup and savored the bitter flavor.

  Maybe he'd read a book or watch a movie? He hadn't done either in ages.

  As he sat on the couch, Jack's gaze fell on the TV remote. He scrolled through channels with disinterest. Nothing caught his attention.

  He put the remote back, feeling lost. The silence was getting to him. Jack stood up and began pacing, trying to shake off restlessness. He stopped at the window again, staring out.

  He had a nagging feeling that his peaceful morning was about to be disrupted.

  Just as he was sinking deeper into his thoughts, the knock on the door jolted him back to reality...

  *KNOCK* *KNOCK*

  His attention shifted to the door. It was his speedy neighbor.

  He recognized the familiar, rapid knocks – a signature trait of his speedy neighbor.

  Aside from him, there is only other one person that knocks on Jack's door—the landlord. But it isn't his time for the rent yet so....

  He moved hurriedly as fast as those knocks on the door.

  Suddenly, Jack's foot hit the table, crushing his pinkie toe. He tumbled, crashing into the table.

  "AHHHHHHHH!" he yelped at the pain. A long silence ensues after and then...

  The knocking grew persistent.

  "Hey, everything alright in there?" Jack remained silent, afraid his voice would crack.

  The banging grew louder, as if they'd break down the door.

  Shit, shit, shit... He'd look like a loser if they opened the door and saw him.

  Don't come in, please!