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.
"I need to pee,'' I muttered.
I left the room and tiptoed to the hallway, trying not to make any sounds. The bathroom was the third door to the left, at the end of the hallway. I walked in and closed the door behind me as a quietly as possible. Feeling a little sick, I opened the lid like a raging madman, crouching onto the floor as everything felt puke-inducing.
Reflexively, I raised my hands to cover my mouth, only to realize they weren't as big or as rough as they were supposed to be. They were soft and feminine. I had nails lightly coated in pink. I'd never used nail polish. Never in a million years. Why was there nail polish on my nails?
Once the nausea passed, I gritted my teeth while standing up and caught my reflection in the mirror. I did a double take. Covering my mouth with my hand to prevent screaming, my eyes widened as if they were going to pop out of their sockets.
No, no, no.
The long black hair tied in a bun, the puffy red eyes, and the dark shadows underneath them. Joy, all of it was Joy. There was nobody else in the bathroom, and yet the image mimicked my movements perfectly. The way I clenched my jaw, the way my pupils widened, the way my lip jutted into a natural pout.
It's just a dream, Vincent. It must be a dream.
I pinched my arm, and winced in pain before glancing at the mirror once more. I hoped to see my own face staring back at me, but to my disappointment, I saw my worst nightmare.
Freaking Joy.
It had to be a cruel joke. It must be.
I tried reassuring myself, but to no avail.
I winced as my heart raced, my palms began to sweat and numerous theories sprung to my mind. Could my body have changed form? What if I had been reborn?
Into your ex's body? Please.
What if I had died in my sleep and was damned to hell? Because at this moment, staring at her face in the mirror, looking down at her body and surrounded by her scent— was hell.
I hit the mirror and sink with my fist, once, twice and glared at her reflection. Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes. Everything was hers. Even my own voice had disappeared. I tried to speak but choked and stared at my hands, blood oozing from the fresh cuts.
What has she done to me? Was she trying to ruin my life?
I have lunch with my family today—the first proper family lunch in what felt like years. My parents were coming home from their long business trip in Tokyo. My brother and I no longer had to hold down the fort alone. I had been waiting for this day for months and now, everything was ruined.
What am I going to do?
I was Joyceleen, ex-girlfriend. That in itself was whack. Crazy. Bat-shit insane! This only happened in movies like Freaky Friday. The body-swapping Supernatural episode. This wasn't supposed to happen in real life.
How the hell was I supposed to fix this?
I ran back to her bedroom. I was beyond furious and beyond pissed. With every step I took, the fury only intensified. Walking felt weird, sitting felt weird, everything felt weird. The universe was really messing with me.
Storming into the room, I picked up Joy's ugly old phone, punching in her password. I dialed my number angrily. My mind was buzzing with questions as I paced around the room, waiting for the phone to be answered. Where was I? The real me, I meant? If I was here being Joy, then my real body had to be somewhere.
Jeez, even thinking about it made me feel crazy.
The only conclusion I drew up before I heard the short tones coming from the phone was that something had happened last night. But what?
"Hello?" I, or rather, Joyceleen said.
This was so damn confusing.
"Vincent, is that you?" A timid voice answered from the other side. I nearly had a heart attack. What? I sank down on the bed and stared at her walls with a blank look on my face. The world was coming to an end. The only explanation for this was an apocalypse. Even though I heard my voice on the other end of the line, I knew it was her. I knew from the tone and way she had whispered 'Vincent'.
"Yeah, it's me," I admitted in Joy's voice after a long pause, aware of how weird I sounded, "Joy, what the hell is this?''
"I have no idea. I remember cry—I mean, falling asleep after a long talk with my parents. I woke up with my clothes drenched, thanks to your brother. I realized what had happened then," she told me. My - I mean her voice sounded hoarse, as if she had been screaming loudly and probably scared Mr. Rutherford, our neighbour, before she answered the phone.
I cursed.
"Why do you sound so calm? Are you behind this?'' My fist tightened as the irrational words rushed out of my mouth. "Did you plan everything beforehand? Is that why you were perfectly fine the day we broke up?"
"What? No! I didn't do anything! It's not my fault. I'm sorry - wait, why am I apologizing?'' she cried. Her voice trembled with uncertainty, as if she wanted to say more, but was too afraid, ''I-''
I paused. Nothing came out of her mouth and I heaved a sigh.
"Sorry for lashing out,'' I told her slowly. Things were still awkward between us, but now it had changed to frustration about this fiasco.
"I think we should meet up to discuss this. I made plans for today so I won't be free until tonight. Can we meet up tonight at Starbucks, around eight maybe?"
She let out a displeased cry, "Why so late? Let's meet now!" She demanded.
I cursed again.
"No way! You want the whole world to know something is up with me? I, or should I say you, have a lot of things to do today. As much as I would like to meet earlier, I don't want anyone suspecting that something is wrong with me. I didn't work my butt off studying to get into a good high school so you could ruin everything. Don't you dare try anything that might get me into trouble, you understand?" I shouted on the phone, panic in my voice.
"Okay, okay. I get it. Eight sounds good, or whatever. In case you forgot, I'm you for now so... I, well, you won't have any plans for today. But I have no idea who I'm supposed to meet or what I'm expected to do today," she muttered.
Great. Now we had to live like this? Why? Why was I suddenly part of a shitty comedy movie?
That and talking to her was stressing me out. Our bodies were swapped and all she could think about was acting like me? There was something messed up about her.
"Six months," I muttered.
"We were together for six months and you are acting like you don't know a damn thing about me.'' I couldn't help avoid the hurt that crept into my voice.
She was silent for the long time.
"Past tense, Vincent. I don't know you anymore.''
"Ditto.'' I told her and hung up without waiting for a reply.
~ ~ ~
The phone slipped from my hands just as my legs started to give way. I grew tense, nauseous again causing me to rushed to the bathroom. The tension returned ten-fold. After emptying my—or rather, her—stomach, I brushed my teeth and rinsed my mouth.
Putting my stubborn and utterly disturbing thoughts aside, I went back to her bedroom. I placed a hand on my stomach as I glanced at the dressers.
Opening one of them reluctantly to choose the clothes I wanted to wear, I was surprised to see how organized her clothes were.
Joy wasn't a person who arranged her things in an orderly fashion. She wasn't particularly messy, but she certainly wasn't this tidy. What happened? Last time I saw her wardrobe, it seemed like someone had released a mini hurricane in there.
I grabbed a shirt and a pair of jeans from the neatly arranged stacks of clothes, pulled my shirt off over my head, only to feel boobs.
My eyes widened when I saw two huge lumps of flesh sticking out from my chest.
Oh my God!
I inadvertently blushed as my pulse palpitated and attempted to direct my attention elsewhere.
Calm down, Vincent. It's nothing you haven't seen before. Calm down, calm down, calm down.
As you could tell, my masculinity was very fragile this morning. I closed my eyes tightly, quickly changing into the shirt and ended up grimacing when I realized I had to change the sweat shorts I— she—was wearing as well. I fumbled with the buttons and immediately attempted to put on the skinny jeans, only to fall on my back due to the movement.
Done.
I heaved a sigh of relief once I was done. At least I looked somewhat presentable now. I walked down the stairs slowly, hoping I wouldn't disturb anyone who was sleeping. The walls on the first floor caught my attention. They were decorated with pictures of her family. The last time I was here, I was busy trying not to get on her parents' bad side to notice it.
I squinted at the photos to get a better look from where I stood on the last stair.
"What are you doing?" said a deep voice behind me.
My body froze. I turned slowly and swallowed heavily upon seeing her father, an intimidating man.
Act natural. Wait...who was I kidding?
"Nothing. Just, walking around?" I laughed in a suspicious tone, twirling a strand of hair around my finger, wishing he'd buy the excuse.
He glared at me. There was bitterness in his gaze. For a second, I stood rooted to my spot. He turned away and left, muttering something under his breath.
The whole family was filled with whackheads.
Thank you for reading :)
Published on: 24/06/2017
Edited on: 28/09/2017 (Keep the feedback coming! I'm always editing this story after reviewing all the comments and critiques so thank you to all those who commented their opinions, I really appreciate it!)
Seems like every time I edit, the in-line comments disappear 😭