𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐚 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 , 𝟖𝟎𝐬

1 = another dimension

FRIDAY, JULY 31st, 1987

the sound of loud snapping, almost as if there were hundreds of cameras around me started to wake me up. there were voices but they were muffled. my eyes fluttered open and a bright light shined into my face causing my head to pound.

"brandy! are you okay?"

"get her some water!"

"what happened?"

i looked down at my legs once i propped myself up on my elbows, i was wearing a black dress and heels as i layed on a red carpet.

"brandy." i met eyes with a familiar looking face. my brain searched for who it was.

"can you hear me?" he asked.

he looked like jason patric's doppleganger. i was utterly confused as i studied his face and his voice as he spoke to me.

the last thing i remember was a car slamming into mine at an intersection as i drove home with my friend, naomi. i couldn't remember exactly what happened when the car forcefully hit mine, but i do remember listening to "dream a little dream of me" by doris day with the windows down. my last memory before everything going black was the song playing in my car and also the car that had hit me overlapping on the lyric of "dream a little dream of me."

a younger kid kneeled next to the jason look alike. blonde fluffy hair and blue eyes.

"corey?" i said without even thinking, knowing no way in hell was a young jason patric and corey haim sitting in front of me calling me by the name "brandy".

the blondie looked at me and nodded, "come on lets get you up." they both grabbed on to my arms helping me get steady on my feet with out my dress coming up.

i took a look around. there were large posters of "The Lost Boys" premiere everywhere and photographers were snapping continuous photos of us as we stood on the red carpet.

"let's get inside." the brunette took my hand and walked me towards a large door. inside seemed to be the theater in which we'd be watching the film.

"what happened?" i asked.

"you passed out suddenly once we took our photos. must have been all the flashing."

i stared at him as we walked down to the front of the theater. the seats had name tags on them of our faces and names. i spotted mine, the photo was of me but the name read "Brandy Alexander."

i quickly looked for his seat, and sure enough it read "Jason Patric".  

maybe i was in hell. maybe i died in the car crash and i suddenly ended up in the 1980s? corey haim is dead in 2018 but ... jason patric isn't.

"oh my god." i mumbled as i sat down in my assigned seat and put my head in my hands.

jason sat next to me, "what is it?"

i tried to blink a couple times, trying to wake myself up. but nothing changed. i finally lifted my head to look at him.

"c-can you tell me what year it is?"

he chuckled. "it's 1987, what'd you hit your head that hard or something?" he grabbed a water bottle that was down at his feet, "here." he said and then handed it to me.

i quickly drank the water, i could feel the coldness in my mouth and i had the ability to swallow. definitely not dead.

"brandy!" an old man said as he approached jason and i. "you missed your interview out there, come on."