An Unexpected Start to a Sunday Morning

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Listen, it wasn't as if this was the first time I'd ever woken up and not known where I was. I mean, six months ago, that happened to me regularly. At least this time, I recognised the guy lying next to me.

But waking up and being surprised by surroundings you don't recognise at once happens to all of us from time to time. You need a few seconds to reorient yourself. "Ah, we're at my mum's," or "Of course, we crashed out at Dixie's."

I waited for revelation to spring itself upon me, but nothing happened, so I ran through what I did know. I was in a large, comfortable bed, with clean sheets that smelled strongly of fabric softener. There was a window to my left and daylight shone through the curtains. The décor was modern and smart.

And, reassuringly, Josh was next to me.

"Mum! Dad!"

The shout beyond the bedroom door startled Josh. His eyes sprung open. I watched him working through the same thought process I did. Where am I? I don't know where this place is—before arriving at the same mental destination—the I don't know where I am one.

The door burst open, and a tall, gangly teenage boy flung himself into the room, coming to rest at the foot of our bed, hopping in agitation from foot to foot.

"Guys! C'mon, get up! You've got to take me to the auditions!"

I sat up in bed, modestly clutching the duvet to my chest, inadequately covered by a thin nightie, and exchanged an incredulous glance with Josh. He returned the glance in full, but his incredulity mingled with intense curiosity, and I groped for my glasses, thankfully left, as usual, on the table next to my bedside.

The boy in front of us undoubtedly looked like both of us. Curly-haired (we're both cursed with frizzy mops), blue-green eyes (my boyfriend), a wide face (me) and approximately 6ft 2ins (me too).

Kidding. The height was all Josh.

"Five minutes, guys!" The teenager grabbed hold of my foot and waggled it, and the unfamiliar touch sent a jolt through me. I needed to concentrate hard on not jerking my foot away.

"We'll see you downstairs then," I said. He gave both of us an intense look, a 'hurry and get up' glare and left the bedroom in roughly the same way he'd entered it.

"What the f–"

"Let's just deal with the immediate," I said. "We've got to take this guy somewhere. What do you think he's called?"

Josh shrugged elaborately. "I don't f–"

I cut him off. "Language! The audition guy might hear you!"

Josh looked at me once more in disbelief. "But this is just so–" he stopped abruptly, staring at me. "Lottie, you look funny."

"What, funny ha ha or just bad?" I asked, removing my glasses so he could stare at my face properly.

"Shit, to be honest. You look like you, but not like you."

I put my glasses back on. "You do too. I mean, like you, but not like you."

Our fancy bedroom had an en-suite. I dived into it, cutting him off. The image that looked back at me in the bathroom mirror made me put my hand to my mouth in fright. It was me, but I looked like one of those 'before' versions in a Botox ad. I had wrinkles around my eyes and deep lines going from mouth to nose. What the hell had happened to us? Josh joined me by the mirror, staring at himself in similar shock and we turned to each other.

"What happened last night? And where are we? I don't recognise this place." Josh prodded the lines on his forehead in disbelief. "I need to stop drinking."

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