1 When I woke up, I was staring at a ceiling that wasn't mine. I was in Whitney’s bedroom, surrounded by her clutter. Panic seized me. I lunged for her phone, desperate to call my own number, but the moment the screen lit up, my fingers froze. Her pinned chats used to consist of only her parents and me. Now, there was a third name sitting right at the top of her inbox. My boyfriend of three years, Christian. There were two unread notifications. One was from my own brother, Nathan, sent an hour ago: Go ahead and have fun with Christian today. I'll make sure Aurora stays out of your way. The other was from Christian, sent fifteen minutes ago: Up yet, beautiful? Should I come over and pick you up? Before my brain could even process the weight of what I was reading, a soft, familiar knock rattled the front door. I walked over like a ghost, swinging the door open to find Christian standing there, his eyes crinkling with a warm, easy smile. "Still half-asleep, sleepyhead?" He reached out, affectionately ruffling my hair. In our three years together, I had never seen him look at me like this. He had always been distant, quiet, and mildly irritated by my presence. I had spent years convincing myself that he wasn't cold, just naturally reserved. "Whitney? You look pale. Did you have a rough night?" Whitney. So, Christian was capable of using sweet, tender nicknames. Just not for me. Perhaps my silence unnerved him. He pressed a hand to my forehead, pulled me gently into the living room, and walked straight to the kitchen. He grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge, pouring it into a mug and popping it into the microwave. He knew his way around her apartment perfectly. "I brought you those croissants you love from Mabel's," he called out. Mabel’s Bakery. I loved their pastries too. But the place was famous for its ridiculous lines that started wrapping around the block at six in the morning. Every time I had asked him to take me, he would dismiss me with a lazy yawn, telling me it was too far and the wait was stupid. Mabel’s was a forty-minute drive from Whitney’s apartment. For him to have these ready by eight in the morning, he must have been up at dawn. "I thought those were Aurora's favorite too," I said, my voice sounding raspy and strange in Whitney's throat. Christian froze, a flicker of annoyance crossing his handsome face. "Why are you bringing her up right now?" A sharp, physical ache bloomed in my chest. Before he could say anything else, his phone began to buzz. The caller ID read Aurora. Whitney must have woken up in my body and was trying to reach him. Christian stared at the screen for a second, a look of pure exasperation crossing his face. Then, without a second thought, he powered the phone off and tossed it onto the kitchen counter. "Christian, aren't you going to answer that?" My voice trembled. He continued unpacking the pastries, his tone softening as he looked back at me. "Don't worry about her. We're getting married soon anyway. Before the wedding, I wanted to follow my heart, just this once. I wanted to take you on a real date." Right then, the phone in my hand, Whitney's phone, began to vibrate violently. The caller ID displayed My Favorite Person in the World, complete with a heart emoji. My contact name in her phone was My Bestie for Life. We had set those contact names a decade ago. They had represented half of our lives. Yet today, I realized my relationship, my longest friendship, and even my own family were nothing but a lie. Christian noticed the buzzing phone, snatched it from my hand, and declined the call. The cold, dismissive look on his face was one I recognized instantly. It was the face he always made when I tried to hug him. But when he looked back up at me, the warmth returned. "Come on, eat up. We have a big day ahead of us." Logic told me to scream the truth in his face, to tell him that the soul inside this body belonged to Aurora. But a pathetic, grieving part of me wanted to feel this warmth just a little longer. Even if I had to steal my best friend’s face to get it. He took me to the pier amusement park. I had begged him to go there for three years. On my first birthday with him, he told me it was too hot and we would go another time. On the second, he claimed he had a last-minute business meeting. By the third, he simply snapped, asking me when I was going to grow up and stop whining about childish things. Now, he was standing in front of me, tickets in one hand and a pair of cute, plush mouse ears in the other. "Christian," I murmured, "I thought you hated amusement parks." He laughed softly, gently placing the headband on my head. "But didn't you post on Instagram last week about how badly you wanted to come here?" My hands clenched into tight fists. Whitney had shared a reel about the park a week ago, captioning it with Someone take me here! I had offered to go with her, but she told me she already had plans with someone else. That someone else was my fiancé. "Whitney, I planned out our whole route today. Just follow me," he said, looking at me with absolute devotion. I nodded slowly. Whitney's phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from my own number. Aurora... it's you, isn't it? I didn't reply. A second later, another message popped up. Please let me explain! I never wanted to hurt you, it's not what it looks like! I finally typed back: Then explain. The typing bubble appeared. It flickered for a long, painful minute, but no message ever came. I let out a silent, bitter laugh. How could she possibly explain this? A hand reached into my line of sight and gently took the phone away. "Hey, no distractions today. Today belongs to us." "Okay," I whispered, letting him slide the phone into his jacket. My birthday had passed two weeks ago. My birthday wish had finally come true, just in the most mocking, twisted way possible. When we reached the roller coaster, Christian turned to me with a protective gaze. "Do you want to ride this, Whitney? If you're scared, we can find something tamer." "I want to," I said. "I love thrill rides." Christian's eyes lit up with surprise and delight. "See? I knew we were a perfect match. I love them too." Right before the coaster launched, Christian reached over and squeezed my hand. I turned to look at him, my heart hammering against my ribs, my fingers trembling in his grasp. "Don't be scared, Whitney," he whispered, his voice incredibly tender. He didn't know I wasn't Whitney. He didn't know my tears weren't from fear. As the coaster plummeted from the highest peak, the wind roaring in my ears, I heard him scream beside me, "Whitney, I want you to be happy!" I closed my eyes and let the tears stream down my face, instantly whipped away by the rushing air. My three-year relationship died on that drop. For the rest of the day, I stopped pretending to be Whitney. I spoke in my own voice, laughed at my own jokes, and behaved exactly as I always did. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, we were walking back to his car. I sat in the passenger seat, staring at his profile, waiting for him to notice that the girl beside him shared the exact same soul as the fiancée he claimed to be bored of. He never did. It was eight in the evening by the time I got the phone back. It was flooded with missed calls and messages from Whitney. The last text had been sent three hours ago: Aurora, please talk to them. Your brother won't believe me. He thinks I'm crazy... I swiped out of her chat and clicked on my brother's name. He had sent one text to Whitney's phone: Aurora seems to have lost her mind today, she's been screaming that she's you. I took her phone and locked her in her room so she won't ruin your date. Enjoy your evening. A cold, humorless laugh escaped my lips. "What's so funny?" Christian asked, steering the car through the evening traffic. I looked at him, my voice flat. "Nothing. Just that Aurora sent a lot of messages. Is it really okay for us to be doing this behind her back?" For a split second, a shadow of guilt crossed his face. For a fleeting, pathetic moment, I hoped he would say he regretted it. Then he spoke, crushing my last shred of hope. "Don't worry about her." He pulled up to the curb outside Whitney’s apartment building. He turned to face me, his eyes soft. "I had an amazing time today, Whitney." "Me too," I replied quietly. He leaned in closer. "You felt different today. Still beautiful, but there was this fire in you. I didn't think I could love you more than I already did, but today changed everything. If only I had met you before I met her." Fresh tears welled in my eyes. "What's wrong?" Christian panicked, reaching out to wipe my cheek. "Did I say something wrong?" "No," I choked out, a bitter smile gracing my lips. "You didn't say anything wrong. I just finally understand why you love me." And I finally understood why he didn't love me when I was in my own skin. It was hilarious, really. He loved Whitney's face, but he loved my soul. Yet, after spending an entire day with me, he couldn't even tell that the woman he was falling for was the very same one he was planning to abandon. Back in Whitney's apartment, I called my own phone. My brother answered on the first ring. "Whitney? Is the date over?" "Yeah," I whispered. "Good," Nathan said, his voice warm with brotherly affection. "As long as you're happy, that's all that matters to me." I gripped the phone so hard my knuckles turned white. As long as she's happy? Even if it means destroying your own sister? "You want to talk to Aurora?" Nathan asked. "I'll give her the phone back." A moment later, Whitney’s frantic voice came through the receiver. "Aurora! Oh my god, finally! Your brother is insane, he locked me in your room! Have you told Christian yet? What is going on with us?" I let the silence stretch between us before speaking. "Whitney, weren't you going to explain things to me?" There was a long pause on the other end. When she spoke again, her frantic tone had vanished, replaced by a defensive sigh. "Look, I was going to make up some excuse, but now that you know, what's the point? He's just a guy, Aurora. We've been best friends for a decade. Are you really going to let a man come between us?" I stared at the wall, completely numb. I had been blind. Blind to my boyfriend, blind to my brother, and blind to my best friend. "Why aren't you saying anything?" Whitney snapped. "Are you actually mad? Christian and I haven't even done anything that bad." I hung up. She called back repeatedly, but I ignored every single ring. Instead, I opened her chat history with Christian and began reading. Their first conversation dated back to March eleventh, two years ago. Whitney had added him the day after Christian and I officially started dating. For three years, they had messaged each other every single day. I watched Christian's replies transition from cold and dismissive to eager and warm over the span of a single year. By the third year, he was sharing every mundane detail of his life with her. Things he never bothered telling me. Then, I found the message from a week ago. Christian: You want to go to the pier? I'll take you this Saturday. Whitney: I'd love to, but what about Aurora? Christian: Don't worry about her. I remembered that night. I had sent Christian dozens of messages, worrying about him because he was supposedly working late. He hadn't replied until one in the morning, claiming he was exhausted. I had spent the next morning making him homemade soup to take to his office. All while he was planning a secret date with my best friend. Next, I opened Whitney’s chat with my brother. It was the same story. She had initiated contact, slowly reeling him in. Nathan had only started falling for her charms a month ago. My head spun. I tossed the phone onto the desk, accidentally knocking a small, leather-bound notebook to the floor. I picked it up. It was Whitney's diary, the handwriting inside neat and youthful, dating back to our high school days. The very first line read: I hate Aurora. Why does she get to have everything? The grades, the money, a brother who treats her like a princess. Why her? Why not me? I flipped through the pages, my heart dropping with every word. March 10th: Aurora has a new boyfriend. She never learns. I took her last two guys, and now she’s introducing me to this one like a naive idiot. He’s gorgeous and aloof. I’m definitely taking him from her. My breath hitched. Those painful breakups in college, the ones Whitney had held me through while I sobbed into her shoulder... they hadn't been accidents. My heartbreak had been her trophies. August 21st: It’s Aurora’s birthday. She wanted to go to the amusement park with Christian. So pathetic. She has no idea he’s spending the night in my bed instead. My hands shook violently as I turned to the very last page, dated yesterday. September 2nd: Christian was incredible today. Finally got him all to myself. Best feeling ever. They had both gone completely off the grid yesterday afternoon. I had called Christian’s phone dozens of times, terrified something had happened to him. The phone in my hand buzzed. A text from Christian. Whitney, I loved the way you were today. Goodnight, beautiful. I didn't reply. I don't remember how I fell asleep, but when I opened my eyes the next morning, I was back in my own bedroom. The scent of lavender filled the air, and my hands were my own again. I checked my phone. All the screenshots of the diary pages and chat logs I had taken using Whitney’s phone yesterday were sitting safely in my inbox. I dialed my mother’s number first. "Mom," I said the moment she picked up. "You know that study abroad program in London you wanted me to do? I'll go." My mother’s excited voice came through the line. "Oh, sweetheart! I knew you'd make the right choice! Once you finish your master's, you can take over the family firm." She paused. "What about Christian? Have you told him?" I looked out the window, my voice cold. "Don't worry about him." After hanging up, I opened my messages. There was only one unread text, sent by Christian ten minutes ago. Aurora, let me know when you're awake. We need to go pick out your wedding dress today. I smiled bitterly, compiled all the screenshots into an email, and hit send. Go pick out the dress with Whitney, Christian. You two deserve each other.
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