Swapped For Love

Chapter 1.1

Reminder(for those who didn't read the summary): This chapter is in a guy's POV

Vincent's POV

September 7

I didn't remember sleeping, yet my mind felt fuzzy when I woke up. The remnants of my dreams were chased away by the sudden consciousness. I reluctantly opened my bleary eyes, only to close them again when the sunlight from the window temporarily blinded me. The chirping and twittering of birds outside created a melodious tune that pierced the serene morning silence.

The first thing I noticed when I came to my senses were the windows. I sat up, looking at them intently. I was sure I had closed the curtains and windows last night before I slept. Was I so exhausted that I forgot? The thought was unnerving.

Bothered, I slid out from underneath the quilt and rolled onto my side. My hand automatically moved to the left, expecting to touch the hard surface of my desk but instead felt only air. My desk was supposed to be on the left side of my bed. Half awake, I turned to the right instead, finding the desk this time. I searched around, trying to find my unreliable phone. I snatched it up, squinting at the screen light as I turned it on to check the time.

7:38 A.M? My eyes widened in disbelief.

Why didn't my brother wake me up? He was always in my room at seven, ordering me to make him breakfast. It was part of our morning routine. His school started in few minutes and I hadn't even washed my face yet.

In amidst of thinking about an easier and faster way to make scrambled eggs, I completely ignored the ten million things around me that yelled 'trouble'. At least not until I noticed the phone I was holding.

First, it was heavier than mine and second, it was pink. I stared down at it, my eyes widening at the sight of a decorated case with two bunny ears. Clunkier. Bulkier. Girlish. Instantly wide awake, I looked around the room as I rose to my feet.

The walls were a warm chocolate-brown; the bed was queen-sized with a nightstand beside it, and there were two dressers pushed against the wall opposite the bed. This room was cozy, like a cottage, and its homely style reminded me of her.

Alarmed, I stared at my surroundings with a crazed look on my face. Confusion and doubt twisted my insides. This bed, those stupid dressers, this stupid artwork she painted three weeks ago. And there I was, standing between all this.

I begged for someone to explain to me why the hell I was in Joy's room? My first rational thought: I got drunk, ended up here while she was in her lounge coming up with one hundred and one ways to murder me. Or maybe, I had gotten drunk, she found me passed out on the Bay road, brought me here, we kissed and one thing led to another.

"Shut up Vince!'' I scolded myself, pulling my mind out of all those horrifying scenarios.

That couldn't be true. I just broke up with her a week ago. I hadn't seen her since then. As of yesterday, I remembered getting home and fighting with my brother as usual, but I had no recollection of leaving home. When I entered my room, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep within seconds.

Sucking in a shaky breath, I tried to remain sane. I felt blood rushing through my ears and my heart racing. Every waking thought was now consumed with fear, panic, and hesitation. I knew one thing for sure: I had to leave as quickly as possible before seeing Joy.

I felt on edge the moment I moved. An unusual sensation overwhelmed me. My body didn't move like it always did- I felt shorter. Nothing was unusual here, I reminded myself.