Chapter 1
My boyfriend Randy and his friends kept a group chat specifically to turn me into a replica of his first love.
“Today’s hairstyle isn’t right. Without that slight curl, she doesn’t look like Audrey.”
“And today’s outfit–Audrey would never wear such a tacky shirt.” My eyes flickered for a moment.
Audrey Evans was my boyfriend’s beloved crush.
Then came the day Audrey returned to the United States.
I secretly changed into a mini skirt, painted my eyes smoky, and spent the night with an attractive stranger I met at a nightclub.
After three years of trying to be the obedient girlfriend, I was beyond sick of it.
***
I arrived outside the bar just in time to hear someone laughing out loud inside.
“It must have felt like a huge accomplishment to transform your girlfriend into your dream girl, right? I bet you’re having a lot of fun in bed!”
Upon hearing this, I froze immediately.
Through the crack in the door, I saw Randy, who was supposed to be dead drunk, sitting in the middle of his friends. Smoke curled in the air around him, blurring his expression.
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Chapter 1
“It’s alright. No matter how good a copy is, it’ll never beat the original, right?” He smirked and joined in the laughs.
That smile landed cold and harsh in my heart beneath the dark lights.
It felt like I’d plunged into an icy lake as every drop of blood in my body seemed to freeze solid.
I didn’t know how long I stood there.
Only when their conversation shifted that I finally pushed open the door.
“Randy.”
Everybody looked up and exchanged looks before clearing a path for me.
“Debra, you’re here. Randy’s had a bit too much. Sorry to trouble you.” Their words were polite, but the mockery in their eyes was unmistakable.
I wondered how I had never noticed it before.
When Randy spotted me, his eyes lit up, and he opened his arms wide. “Honey, come give me a hug.”
There was so much warmth in his eyes that it made me doubt what I’d just heard.
I struggled to get him back to bed, helped him change his clothes, and made a cup of coffee for his hangover.
“Randy,” I whispered. “Get up and drink this, or you’ll wake up with a terrible headache.”
He opened his eyes slowly and wrapped his long arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder and nuzzling affectionately.
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“Feed me,” he mumbled.
His hot breath tickled my ear.
I placed the cup near his lips, ready to feed him. But before I could do so, he grasped my chin and pulled me into a deep, lingering kiss.
His breath reeked of alcohol, but his mouth only tasted faintly of tobacco.
I felt a pang of resistance and was just about to pull away when he let go
on his own.
“Honey, I don’t want to drink that coffee. I promise I will not have a headache tomorrow. I’m just so exhausted. Let me sleep, okay?”
A phone buzzed in the middle of the night, waking me alert. I groggily reached for it on the nightstand and unlocked it.
“I was sleeping when I remembered that we haven’t rated Debra’s looks today! Wake up, guys! Let’s give her a score.”
“Honestly, I’d give her a 6 out of 10. Her hair is wrong as it doesn’t have that little wave, so she doesn’t look like Audrey.”
“And what’s with the shirt she was wearing? It’s so tacky. Audrey would never wear something like that.”
Only then did I realize that I had grabbed the wrong phone. Randy and I shared the same lock–screen password.
Scrolling up, all I noticed were their judgments against me.
Randy would occasionally chime in, saying, “I got it. I’ll ask her to try a different haircut tomorrow.”
Suddenly, all of his odd requests made sense.
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“Honey, how about I go to the salon with you tomorrow?”
I hesitated as I stroked my long hair, which had grown for two years. “I don’t want to cut it.”
But he kept pestering me. If I didn’t say yes, he wouldn’t stop.
Finally, I gave in with tears pooling in the corners of my eyes and cheeks flushed.
When I saw him seriously discussing with the hairstylist about what cut would suit me, I thought it was a sweet gesture.
Little did I know, all he wanted was for me to look more like her.
I was a stand–in for three years, and I knew nothing about it.
In the dark, the brightness from the phone screen lit up my pale face like a ghost.
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