Her name was gone.
Not the nickname. Not "Juno." That still echoed when people called her in class, when professors read the roll sheet. But the rest — the full name, the one on her ID, the one her mom used when she was in trouble — blank.
She stared at her journal, flipping through pages she knew she'd written. Her handwriting was there. Her doodles. Her notes about classes, about crushes, about the weird dream she had where her teeth turned to pixels.
But the page where she'd written her full name?
Torn out.
Burned at the edges.
Like it had been deleted.
She opened her phone. Searched her contacts. Her own number was saved under "Me," but the info field was empty. No last name. No email. No birthday.
Just a blinking cursor.
Waiting.
She typed in her name.
Paused.
Backspaced.
She couldn't remember.
---
The group chat was quiet.
Too quiet.
She typed anyway.
you: i can't remember my name
🧃ava.exe: how much have you lost
you: just my last name
🧃ava.exe: that's how it starts
👻riley_irl: next it'll be your birthday
🕹️milesAFK: or your favorite song
you: what do i do
🧊lucas: anchor yourself
you: to what
🧊lucas: something real. something only you would know
you: like what
🧃ava.exe: a memory. a password. a scar.
👻riley_irl: a secret you never told anyone
🧊lucas: write it down. hide it. protect it.
you: will that stop it
🧊lucas: no. but it might slow it down
---
She grabbed a sticky note and wrote:
"I hate strawberry milk. I lied to fit in."
She stuck it to her mirror.
The mirror didn't glow this time.
It just watched.
---
That night, she dreamed of a hallway.
Endless. Fluorescent. Buzzing.
She walked barefoot, the floor cold and wet beneath her feet. The walls were lined with mirrors, but they didn't reflect her. They showed other people. Strangers. Some crying. Some screaming. Some smiling too wide.
At the end of the hallway stood a door.
It opened before she touched it.
Inside was a room made of static.
A figure stood in the center.
Faceless. Tall. Wearing a hoodie made of corrupted pixels.
The Admin.
It didn't speak.
It didn't need to.
The room filled with whispers.
Not words. Not language.
Just… deletion.
She felt her memories unraveling like threads.
Her first pet's name. Gone.
The smell of her childhood home. Gone.
The sound of her dad's laugh. Gone.
She screamed.
The Admin tilted its head.
Then reached out.
And touched her forehead.
---
She woke up gasping.
Sweating.
Crying.
She didn't know why.
She didn't remember the dream.
But her sticky note was gone.
In its place, written in fog on the mirror:
"You don't need to lie anymore."
---
She opened the group chat.
you: it was here
🧃ava.exe: the Admin?
you: i think so
👻riley_irl: did it speak
you: no
🧃ava.exe: then you're lucky
you: i don't feel lucky
🧊lucas: what did it take
you: i don't know
🧃ava.exe: check your playlists
you: what
🧃ava.exe: trust me
---
She opened Spotify.
Her playlists were still there.
But the names were wrong.
"study bops" was now "buffering…"
"sad girl hours" was now "404: not found"
And her favorite playlist — the one she'd made when she was thirteen, full of songs she never told anyone she loved — was gone.
She couldn't even remember what was on it.
Just that it mattered.
---
She closed the app.
Her phone buzzed.
New message from: Unknown
"You're syncing beautifully."
She threw the phone across the room.
It didn't break.
It just buzzed again.
---
She didn't go to class.
Didn't eat.
Didn't speak.
She just sat on her bed, knees pulled to her chest, watching the mirror.
Waiting.
---
That night, she wrote a new note.
"My first kiss was in a movie theater. I laughed halfway through it."
She taped it to her ceiling.
Somewhere the mirror couldn't reach.
Then she whispered it to herself until she fell asleep.
---
She dreamed of Lucas.
Not the glitchy version.
Just Lucas.
Sitting beside her on a rooftop, legs dangling over the edge.
The sky above them was static.
The stars blinked like loading icons.
"You're fading," he said.
"I know."
"You're still you, though."
"For now."
He looked at her.
"You're stronger than you think."
She laughed.
"No I'm not."
"You're still here."
He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a cassette tape.
Handed it to her.
The label read: "Juno.exe"
"What is this?" she asked.
"Your backup."
She looked down.
The tape was melting.
---
She woke up with tears on her cheeks.
And a cassette tape on her pillow.
---