Lane Leilio Wakes up in an alternate timeline. It seems that she has assumed the identity of a girl named South West. The second eldest daughter of Kim and Kanye West. In addition to her newfound celeb status she uncovers that her boyfriend is mega...
The REAL South posing as Lane "Lane, you don't even like Justin Bieber" I roll my eyes, already sick of the name I'd been given in this dimension.
"I do. I mean, I like him enough" my 'best friend', Delancey Middleton, crosses her arms and fixes me with a quizzical stare.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
"Name one of his songs" I pause my packing and fold a terrifically cheap dress. One that would have to do for my Justin Bieber meet and greet.
"Trophies" I say confidently and Delancey actually snorts.
"Are you kidding? That's Drake's song. Try again." I mentally slap myself. Of course it wasn't his song. Nothing was right in this world. Nothing.
"I'll be fine. Thanks for the loan by the way" I had never been so embarrassed in my entire life. Delancey had taken a lump sum of $25000 from her parents to pay for our tickets to California and for the both of us to see Justin on what he called his 'Purpose Tour'. He was a singer here. A fucking great one at that.
"It's your nearly your birthday/ Christmas! I had to go all out, anyway it was barely a dent for my parents. They didn't even notice" my mouth lifts up at the corners. Sounds like something Nori would say. Nori my birthday was on December 25th and I'd never spent it away from family. It seemed that Lane's birthday was the same.
"Are you wearing these to meet him?" She holds up a pair of glittering strappy heels and I nod in dismay. They were hideous. Apparently the real Lane thought so too because I'd found them stashed in they're original box with the tag ' Love, Mom' still in tact.
"Unfortunately. Things have been slow..." meaning I had quit Lane's job as a Pappadeux's hostess when an old lady demand I sit thirty people and her fucking cat.
"All you have to do is ask L! I've got you, I've told you this before." I try not to blush. I was no stranger to nice things, but taking them from a stranger that thought she was my best friend threw me off. Delancey switches on the old radio that sits on the window sill and starts to rap along to a song that my Aunt Kylie had created. Here it was rapped by Nicki Minaj. A famous artist in my world.
"Girls?" I grip the cheap fleece of Lane's blanket until my knuckles turn white before turning to speak to Jennifer Leilio, my ' mom'.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
