Doubles

Chapter Thirty Nine

Stiles

Something was . . . off. Something strange. He knew because Lydia told him so.

After the whole group went and had lunch and she told him about what Thomas told her about his dreams. Sure, Stiles has wondered why Thomas had two different versions of his dreams but he'd been too occupied at finding a double to care too much about it. But now that he wasn't occupied he wondered if it was actually important.

Lydia thought it was. For the few times she spoke the rest of the day, that was all it was about. She seemed intent on finding out why it had happened.

So, once everyone was back at the hotel, about to split up, Stiles pulled her aside to talk to her.

"So about Thomas' dreams," he started. "Do you think it's really worth mentioning to the others?"

Lydia nodded. "I do. It has to mean something." She looked over at Paul, talking to the rest of his band. They seemed to be in a somber mood. "But after the band leaves. Paul doesn't need more to worry about right now. Especially since this is their last night together."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed sadly. "Later then." He watched them for a moment longer. "I am glad he's staying though. We couldn't do this without all the doubles."

"You should probably tell him that."

"Huh?" He asked, confused.

Lydia grinned. "I know he weirds you out. You feel strange not being the only double anymore, right? I'm just saying Paul won't have anyone familiar after his band leaves. You should talk to him, get to know him better."

Stiles rolled his eyes even though she was right. Completely right. Being a double was strange in itself. Being a double with more doubles around was even more strange. But Lydia was still right, he shouldn't ignore Paul the way he had been.

"Okay, fine," he relented. "But, in all honesty, I can't understand his accent half the time."

Lydia just chuckled, walking away and shaking her head.

He walked over to Paul, John, and George. They seemed to be in a deep conversation about . . . he couldn't tell. They were speaking too quickly and their accent was too thick. He was thankful Newt wasn't like this otherwise there would've been a lot more problems.

"You need something?" Paul asked after a moment, turning to him.

"Right, yeah," Stiles answered. "I was wondering . . ." What was he wondering? ". . .  if want to help me play a trick on Minho?" Okay, that works.

Paul gave him a confused smile. "Uh, I'm not much the pranking playing type but alright. What'd'ya need me to do?"

Stiles grinned. He proceeded to tell the story of him pretending to be Thomas and how Minho helped.

"See, Minho's the one doing the pranks," he explained. "So he won't expect one done to him. That's why I need you to pretend to be Newt."

"I don't think it would work. You see." He gestured to his dark hair. "Would spoil the whole prank, it would."

"That's the thing," Stiles started. "Either we would need a wig or we to dye your hair."

Paul actually laughed at that. He turned to John. "Ay, John. Would I look good blonde?"

"Newt looks good so yeah," he replied. "Probably look better than you do now."

Paul flipped him off, the gesture returned by his friend. Then he turned back to Stiles. "Sure, I'll help. Why not? But." He gestured over his shoulder at his band. "As horrid as these guys are, I want to spend some time with them before they leave. That alright?"

Stiles nodded and gave him a thumbs up. "Yeah. Totally. Thanks Paul."

"Anytime mate." Paul patted his shoulder before turning back to his friends.

Stiles smiled walking the short distance with the rest of his friends to their hotel room. They finished packing everything into Stiles' car so it was finally time to go to Minho's and Thomas' houses.

Then, after that, who knows what's going to happen.