Fatal Perfume

Queenie Livingston, my best friend whom I have cared for over the years, gives me a bottle of perfume.

I immediately turn around and pour its contents down the toilet.

In my previous life, that perfume made me sprout hair all over my body and reek. I was shunned by my colleagues, and my then-boyfriend and superior, Preston Zimmerman, wasted no time in dumping me and hooking up with Queenie.

I desperately sought medical treatment back then, but with nowhere left to turn, I died in utter agony and despair.

Only after my death did I learn that the grotesque condition was caused by the perfume Queenie had maliciously tampered with.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the exact day Queenie gave me the perfume.

"I bought this perfume with half my paycheck, Helena. It's just a little something, so please don't judge. I'll definitely get you something much better once I save up some money!" My best friend, Queenie Livingston, grinned and handed over the neatly wrapped gift.

I stumbled back in utter astonishment, taking in the familiar office surroundings and realizing with absolute certainty that I had been reborn.

I ignored the strange looks I was getting and bolted straight for the restroom, stripping off my clothes the moment I got inside. I finally breathed a sigh of relief once I noticed that my body was smooth and unblemished.

In my past life, whenever I applied perfume, my whole body would sprout a fine coat of hair, giving off a faint, pungent odor that was enough to drive away everyone who dared to come near me.

Queenie came from a poor background, and when she first started working at the company, she was almost let go because she couldn't master the workflow.

I stepped in and helped her out of genuine kindness. I treated her sincerely from that point on, sharing entertaining news and bringing her extra snacks or treats whenever I had them.

Queenie was deeply grateful for everything I did for her, so when she presented me with the perfume, I simply assumed it was a gift to show her appreciation.

Some of my colleagues even joked about it, suggesting it must be some kind of knockoff since she couldn't even tell me the brand of the perfume. I paid them no mind and shrugged off their words as harmless jokes.

It wasn't long before my body began to change. It initially started with itching and swelling, which quickly escalated until fine hair covered my entire body. I tried hair removal cream, which was somewhat effective, but the hair would grow back faster and thicker the next day.

I exhausted all options, trying everything from major hospitals to questionable folk remedies, yet nothing yielded results. I subsequently requested time off and confined myself to the company dormitory, too ashamed to go outside.

Queenie brought everyone in the department to my room under the excuse of checking in on me. When they caught sight of me looking like some hairy monster, they shrieked in terror, as though they had really run into some kind of monster.

In the end, some opportunist uploaded a video of me online, titling it "The Hairy Beauty".

There were plenty of online influencers who saw me as their key to going viral. They instantly surrounded my place, desperate for a live stream opportunity.

In the meantime, my boyfriend and superior, Preston Zimmerman, openly expressed his repulsion and seized the chance to end our relationship.

Queenie's face, on the other hand, grew startlingly beautiful. While visiting me, she was accidentally caught on camera by an online influencer who was staking out my door, and the video of her striking good looks sparked an immediate surge of media attention.

She swiftly seized the viral moment, interacting with the online audience, and successfully transformed into an online influencer with millions of followers in just half a month.

I simply couldn't cope with the reality of my disfigurement, so I ultimately took my own life by slitting my wrists in the bathroom.

It wasn't until I died that the reason for my hideous transformation became clear. It turned out that Queenie resented my superior performance at work and my attractive appearance.

The perfume she gave me was actually a cursed item she intended to use to swap our fates.