But in another life, I could be your girl

Gina wasn’t in the mood for this dumb challenge.

“This is so fucking stupid,” she muttered, shaking her head when she appeared back on earth. The idea of transforming someone with a gun as part of the challenge… it was ridiculous, honestly.

As if she didn’t have enough to feel guilty about already!

“Let’s just get this over with,” she muttered grimly, looking around. She was… standing in someone’s living room? That sure wasn’t what she expected. “…Huh. Well, whatever. It’s not like it matters.”

She didn’t really care about who her “assigned target” was. After all… it wasn’t like she could really go through with this, could she?

Competing in challenges was one thing. She didn’t care one way or another if she won them, of course. It’s wasn’t like her Victory Points mattered. Gina doubted she’d ever “win” this little competition for top dog in Nick’s harem. She didn’t even want to.

Cooking? Sure, she even kind of liked it. Playing a complicated game of “find the imposter”? It was fun, even if she was the first one out.

This was different though. This was Gina actively harming another person. Just because she didn’t care about getting transformations herself, that didn’t mean her target would be so nonchalant about it themselves.

“Nice place, though,” she muttered as she walked around the room, taking a look at her surroundings. Whoever lived here must have been decently well-off. Decently-sized TV, bookshelves, comfy armchairs, it reminded her of her old living room back home.

Gina spotted a picture frame sitting on one of the bookshelves by the foyer entrance, and walked over to check it out. She figured it would probably be a photograph of her target. Just because she didn’t intend to change them, that didn’t mean she couldn’t at least see who they were.

She didn’t need to bother, though.

“Mom? Are you home early or something? …AAAH!”

Gina whirled around at the shouting voice coming from the stairwell. Her eyes widened when she saw who it was.

A woman about her age was standing in the entrance, her eyes wide with shock. She was about Gina’s height, too, and her breasts were about as large as Gina’s. Her blonde hair was about as long as Gina’s. Her eyes were about as brown as Gina’s… her…

“Whoa,” was all Gina could say as she pieced together who was standing in front of her, glowing like a lightbulb.

“…Oh my,” the girl said in response, figuring it out just as fast, even if she was far more confused.

“Wait, so… you’re me?” The blonde Gina asked. She’d had to sit down. Seeing a woman who looked exactly like a punk version of her poking around in her home had been quite a fright.

“Something like that,” the punk Gina grunted, rubbing her temples. “Shoulda known. Fucking Dakota… of fucking course she’d pull some shit like this.”

The blonde squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.

Her dark-haired counterpart scowled. “What? Got a problem?”

“N-no!” The other girl’s brown eyes widened like saucers and her face paled. “It’s just… I’m not used to people cursing, that’s all. Especially not… myself.”

Punk Gina rolled her eyes and snorted. “Well, don’t get your panties in a twist,” she scoffed. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re NOT me. And I definitely wouldn’t be caught dead looking like you. I mean, fucking really, pink?”

The other Gina squirmed again. “I-I like pink,” she replied. Her eyes shifted away as she said that, and punk Gina laughed.

“No you fucking don’t! We haven’t liked pink since we were kids! At least I didn’t. I only wore that frilly stuff because my mom wouldn’t buy me anything else!”

Her counterpart flinched. Bullseye.

“W-well, you still shouldn’t swear so much. Even if we’re not exactly identical twins,” the blonde said. “What did you say you were? Some alternate me from another universe?”

The brunette popped her mouth loudly. “Nah. I’m an alien from the planet Jupiter, and I came here to replace you while the real you is taken to the mothership.”

…

“Um… Jupiter is a gas giant… I don’t think any alien lifeforms that would live there would have a physical form…”

Fucking nerd.

The cool Gina sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay, listen, Gina-”

“It’s ‘Regina’ actually,” the blonde corrected her other self.

“…You’re not fucking serious.”

“What?! I like that name!” Regina protested.

“No you don’t! You fucking liar!” Gina laughed incredulously. “We always hated that name, that’s why we had all our friends call us ‘Gina’ since, like, fucking kindergarten!”

Regina turned red. “That was then, though…” She mumbled, looking down. “I like it now… it makes me sound all mature and classy…”

Gina rolled her eyes. “Please, you’re just calling yourself that because your mother wants you to. You’ve deluded yourself into liking that dorky name.”

“It-it’s not dorky!” Regina snapped, standing up and placing her hands on her hips. “And I do like it! Sure, you’re right, maybe I only wear pink because my mom picks that stuff out for me when we go shopping, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings. But this is my name! And I like it just fine!”

Gina was stunned. She thought the little prissy, spoiled blonde in front of her would fold like a cheap napkin to a little bit of hostility, but she actually had a bit of fire in her belly.

…Still, though. A twisted smile curled up her lips. “…You go shopping with your mommy?”

Regina glared at her, even as her face burned with embarrassment. “At… at least it’s better than that stuff you’re wearing! What, did you rob a biker bar or something?”

“Ooh, tough little mommy’s girl,” Gina sneered. “You know, maybe you could do with a makeover yourself, little missy.”

She raised the ray gun and pointed it at her counterpart. Regina immediately stiffened and her eyes leapt to the gun.

“Wh-what is that?” She asked, backing away. She banged her calves on the couch and fell back into her seat.

“It’s my ray gun,” Gina replied, pretending to shoot her. “I told you I was an alien, wasn’t I? Name’s Klektu-Shurboof. But you can just call me ‘Gina’.”

“I’m serious here!” Regina exclaimed. “Is that a weapon?! You-you know our mom’s the district attorney, right!?”

“Yeah yeah yeah I get it,” Gina scoffed, rolling her eyes. She lowered the gun. “I’m just messing with you. I may be self-destructive, but I draw the line at actually killing myself.”

Regina didn’t know what to make of THAT. She sighed and rubbed her temples. “Look… Gina, right? I’m trying to understand, I really am. Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

“I told you,” Gina said, slinging her body into an armchair and kicking her boot-covered feet up onto the coffee table with an irreverent slovenliness that made her other self twitch uncomfortably. “I’m you. I’m just you from another reality.”

“What, like… a parallel timeline, or something?” Regina asked, surprised.

Gina groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fuck. Seriously, please don’t tell me you really are a fucking nerd…”

Regina scowled. “So I like science fiction. At least I can read above a fifth-grade level!”

Gina’s eyes widened slightly. Again, her other self was actually doing pretty good with the cutdowns. She was almost proud.

The punk girl sank back into her seat with an amused grin on her face and laced her fingers behind her head. The gun rested on the arm of her chair, just within reach.

“Fine. Yeah. Sure. Parallel timeline, or whatever. Anyway, right now, I’m hanging out on this reality show, chilling on a deserted island in some alternate reality. There are these challenges, right? And after each one, they transform me physically. Could be my clothes, my body, fuck it, even my brain could get messed with. And one of my challenges is- what’s up, why are you looking at me like that?”

Regina was staring sympathetically at her. “So… is that what happened to you, then? Is that why you’re… like this?”

She waved her hand at Gina, to emphasize that “this” meant her clothes.

Gina scowled. “You’re taking this remarkably well, just saying. Most people would think it’s fucking mental, being told shit like that.”

Regina shrugged. “I mean… you’re another me. I’m willing to believe a lot when it’s coming from an alternate version of myself who was transformed into some trashy 80’s movie punk stereotype on a reality show.”

A shadow crossed Gina’s face and she scowled. “Actually, it wasn’t the show that made me dress like this,” she snapped. “I chose these clothes because I like them.”

Regina looked surprised to hear that. “…Really? Wow.”

“Got a problem with it!?”

“N-no!” Regina pulled away and held up her hands. “It’s just… wow. I thought, when you described that show, you were explaining why you’re so different from me… but I guess you changed a lot before then, huh?”

“Yeah, a lot longer,” Gina spat, shaking her head in disgust. “Look at you, all prissy and girly, and living with your fucking mother! What, you’re 27 like me, right? Aren’t you a little embarrassed you can’t even survive on your own?”

As Gina continued to throw stones from her glass house, Regina looked at her with brewing concern.

“I’m staying with my parents because I love them,” she said seriously. “I make enough money to support myself just fine. But family is important, too.”

“Oh, yeah? What, you design greeting cards or something?”

“No. I record music.”

Gina nearly fell out of her chair.

“Wh-what?” She stammered, sitting up straight.

“Here.” Regina fished her phone out of her purse and typed something up on it. “I’m not, like, a BIG hit or anything, I’m no Taylor Swift. But I recorded some songs from my bedroom and shared them on this app, and, well… that was a few years ago. Some labels reached out to me after I built up a decent following, and, well…”

She sat tensely as Gina scanned through her feed with an amazed expression on her face, watching videos of Regina strumming on the guitar and singing her heart out.

“…Like, like I said, it’s not HUGE,” she clarified quickly, like she was wary of the other woman’s judgment. “I’ve only done, like, a couple of live shows. And honestly, I’ve kind of hit a plateau at this point, but… wait, why am I even explaining all this to you?!”

She hastily snatched her phone back, her face red. “S-sorry, I kind of just went off on a tangent…”

“No, um… it’s cool. Whatever…” Gina mumbled, unable to look at her other self the same way again.

A girl her age, a girl who was literally her, was recording songs on one of the most popular apps in the world, and was getting hits from it? Building a fanbase?

“So, um, yeah, I’m making decent money… not, like, celebrity money, but the point is, I’m not staying with my folks because I have to, okay?! I just like it!” Regina insisted.

Normally, Gina would have pointed out that was even worse. It was one thing to live with your parents to make ends meet, but staying with them simply because you liked their company? That made her counterpart a dork of the highest order.

And yet, she couldn’t find any words to scorn her with.

“…Good for you,” she mumbled instead. “That was always a dream of ours, right? To be a famous singer?”

Regina smiled a little. But she could still feel something was wrong.

“…What about you?” She asked. “Did you ever do anything with your music?” She glanced at Gina’s clothes again. “Grunge punk, I’m guessing?”

“Who fucking cares?” Gina snapped, narrowing her eyes and sitting up straight. “I moved past that childish shit ages ago. You know what I’m doing nowadays? Getting dicked down on the regular by a fucking hunk. Let me guess, you’re still a virgin, right?”

Regina’s cheeks reddened at Gina’s angry vulgarity. “I am not!” She snapped back. “For the record, I happen to have a boyfriend!”

Gina snorted and rolled her eyes. “Right, right. Let me guess, he lives in Canada? And you only see him twice a year?”

“No!” Regina exclaimed. Then her blush deepened. “…He lives back in the pacific northwest. And I see him whenever I can get the time to fly over.”

Gina frowned. That sounded familiar. “Wait, your boyfriend, who is he?”

Regina looked away, smiling bashfully. “It, um… It’s Nick Reynolds. You remember him?”

Well, fuck Gina with an unlubed strap-on.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” she said, shaking her head. “There’s no fucking way! No fucking way would you and Nick get together!”

“Why not?” Regina exclaimed, her bashful tone turning to anger. “We’ve liked each other since we were kids! Sure, it’s not like we started dating right away, but we’re still as much in love as we were back in high school!”

Gina shook her head. She refused to believe that. “No, that’s bullshit. There’s no way you two would get together after what happened with Dakota!”

She’d been expecting those words to sting. But Regina just looked perplexed. “Dakota? What does she have to do with any of this?”

Gina stared blankly at her. “…Huh? It’s fucking Dakota! She’s got everything to do with this, are you a fucking retard?”

Regina’s frown deepened. “Okay, yes, Dakota wasn’t exactly thrilled by the fact that Nick chose me over her, I’ll give you that. And it took a long time for us to become friends again after that fight. But she realized that Nick was happy with me, and she got over it. What, is that not how things went down with you?”

That would be putting it lightly.

It took Gina a bit to put the pieces together, but once she did, she pressed Regina for details. She had a suspicious feeling she knew just what had resulted in the two of them having such different outcomes in their life.

“Tell me something, Reggie. July 11th, 2008, what happened?” Gina inquired, her hands shaking. She tried to keep the anxiety out of her voice.

Regina turned red. She remembered that day vividly. But for an entirely different reason than Gina. “That… it was our first kiss. Nick and I. You remember that too, right?”

Gina remembered alright. But what happened next was a lot more vivid.

“I remember, yeah, fucking of course I remember. Then Dakota walked in on us.”

Regina frowned, and raised a quizzical eyebrow. “What? No, she didn’t. But Nick felt guilty afterwards, and he told her the truth. Is that not what happened in your version?”

And there it was. Regina could have explained to Gina what the “butterfly effect” was, but it would have gone into one ear and out the other. But even Gina was smart enough to recognize the discrepancy.

“So that’s fucking it,” she muttered, shaking her head. “She didn’t walk in on you guys. And let me guess, when Nick told her, she didn’t run out into the storm that day, did she?”

“No, she didn’t,” Regina said, concern leaching into her voice. She didn’t like the bitter tone her counterpart was using.

“So… she didn’t die, then.”

A deafening silence echoed across the room.

“…What?” Regina’s voice was like the squeak of a mouse.

“In my reality,” Gina said, sitting up straight and resting her chin on her hands, “Dakota walked in on Nick and I kissing. It hurt so much that she ran out of the lodge, and into the storm. She was washed away by the river before we could get to her. She… didn’t make it.”

“Oh my god!” Regina exclaimed, holding her hand over her mouth in shock. “But that… wait, you said her name before, when you first got here! But she’s dead? What’s going on?”

Gina let out a tired sigh. “This fucking show I’m on? This Harem Hotel? Well, after Dakota died, she ended up in fucking charge of the whole thing. Then, she brought Nick into it. It’s his fucking harem. She’s running things now, hooking him up with all the women in his life. And me… well, lucky you, you get to date him outright. I’m fine just being another piece of ass for him to take whenever he wants.”

She smiled as she said that, but Regina didn’t see much happiness in that smile.

“I-I’m sorry to hear that,” she said quietly. “That… I can’t imagine, losing Dakota… even when we were fighting, she was still my best friend… if something happened to her… and you said she arranged this whole thing?”

“That’s right,” Gina muttered. She picked up the ray gun and turned it over in her hands. “That’s why I’m here. Dakota’s little challenge. She wants me to use this gun, to **** some transformations onto my target. And if I fail, well… shit happens.”

“That’s… I don’t even know what to say to that…” Regina may have believed Gina’s story, but it was just so… unbelievable! And yet, since she’d never told a lie in her life, she implicitly trusted every word out of her own mouth. Even if the girl who had it was the complete opposite of her in nearly every way.

“So… who’s your target, then?” She questioned.

Gina stared blankly at her other self until she figured it out.

“…Oh! Wait, so…”

“Yup.” Gina pointed the gun at her, and pretended to pull the trigger. “Gotta come up with something twisted. Creative. And frankly… I’m not the best at stuff like that.”

She sighed and set the gun back down. “And honestly, what’s even the fucking point? I mean, look at you! It’s so fucking stupid.”

“You think I look stupid?” Regina frowned.

“No, it’s just… look, all this good girl shit, right? Ugh, I just… I can’t explain it!”

Part of Gina really wanted to use the gun. That was the part she was fighting right now.

Because it just wasn’t fair.

Regina had it all. She was going somewhere with her music. She was dating Nick, and she didn’t even have to share him! Her family loved and accepted her. And all it had taken was being a “good girl” and not a fucking mess like Gina.

“I coulda been like you, you know?” Gina muttered, pushing deeper down into that dark place. She glared bitterly at her counterpart. “Studied hard in school. Wore nice, pretty clothes my mom picked out. Turn into her perfect little ideal daughter. And what happened? They tried to **** that shit on me, so I fucking bailed. I guess I wasn’t strong enough to put up with it after what happened to Dakota, huh?”

That was the rub, wasn’t it? Regina hadn’t lost Dakota. She hadn’t killed her. That guilt had broken Gina, and she wasn’t strong enough to put up with all the shit her parents wanted her to do, like brushing her fucking teeth and not doing ****.

“I… Gina, I don’t think you understand,” Regina said softly. “I liked studying. I like these clothes! Maybe not the color, but dresses are nice. My parents didn’t **** me into any of it. Mom can be a little overbearing, sure, but she’s always respected my right to make my own choices.”

“Whatever you fucking say,” Gina muttered, shaking her head. “And if tomorrow you told her that you wanted to burn all the money from your music on **** and booze, she’d accept that, too, huh?”

Regina blinked. “…What? No, of course she wouldn’t, are you crazy?”

“See?! Exactly!” Gina slapped the arm of her chair. “She’s trying to turn you into her little perfect good girl!”

“No, she’s just looking out for me!” Regina snapped back. “She’s my mom! Of course she wouldn’t want me to turn into a **** addict! What mother would!?”

Gina flinched at her words. “I didn’t, I…”

“Is your mother happy with your choices?” Regina stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. “Because the way you’re talking, I really, really doubt it.”

“Of-of course she’s not!” Gina snapped. “I haven’t talked with her in years! I-I… and she wouldn’t want to talk to me, anyway! It… it’s like you said… she can’t stand what I’ve done to myself…”

All the fight left her body and she slumped down into the chair. Regina stared at her in surprise. The poor girl looked like she was going to cry.

“I tried reaching out to my dad… back near the beginning of the show,” Gina muttered. “But he didn’t want to hear from me. I didn’t even have time to tell him I loved him.”

“Oh, Gina…” Regina walked over to her and hugged her.

“I just… I… I don’t know what to do!” Gina admitted. “I can’t be their perfect little daughter… I just can’t! I can’t be some brainless yes-woman who only does what her parents want! I’m… I’m not strong enough to do that…”

That was really it.

Gina was afraid that she wouldn’t have the strength to follow all her parents’ rules and expectations.

“I don’t want to disappoint them again…” She sobbed.

“Gina… I think you don’t understand your parents at all,” Regina said softly.

“H-huh?” Gina didn’t know what she meant by that.

“Look, I’ll be the first to admit that our parents have… expectations,” Regina said. “But I know my mom and dad. And I know that even if I did ruin my life, blow through all my money, I know they would still love me.”

“Hah!” Gina cackled, shaking her head. “Well, I’m happy to disabuse you of that notion! Because my parents sure fucking didn’t.”

“Really? How do you know?” Regina asked.

“Because they fucking told me!” Gina exclaimed. “They said never to call them again! They want nothing to do with me! If they really loved me, they’d be there for me, wouldn’t they!? But they’re fucking not! They don’t care if I end up dead in a fucking ditch!”

Regina winced. “I-I understand you feel that way, Gina, really, I do. But I know my parents too. And even if they did cut me off… I’m sure that part of them would still love me no matter what. You said you were a **** addict? An alcoholic? Well… mom has prosecuted a lot of people like that. She told me about this one case, where the family ended up cutting their son off because he refused to get clean. They still loved him, and not a day went by when they didn’t think about him. But they couldn’t bear keeping him in their lives, because it was too hard to watch someone they loved killing themselves like that. Don’t you think it’s possible… that your parents are feeling the same way?”

The firm look in her eyes almost convinced Gina herself. She remembered the sadness in her father’s voice when she called him. He’d sounded so tired. Like he wanted to believe her, but he just didn’t have the strength anymore.

Could Regina be right about this? Could Gina have been wrong? About everything?

“That’s… I…” Gina’s eyes watered and her hands started to shake. “…No, you’re just saying that because you’ve always been their perfect little angel. Believe me. If I was their daughter? They’d throw me out of the house without a second thought!”

Regina bit her lip. “Well… fine! Let’s prove that, then!”

Gina blinked. “…Huh?”

“We’ll prove it,” Regina said, placing her hands on her hips. She had a conspiratorial look on her face. “Why don’t you take my place tonight? We’re having family dinner like we do every night. Only, instead of me, it’s going to be you!”

“What, are you crazy?!” Gina couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You… you want me to pretend to be you? Some pure little snowflake nerd?!”

Regina rolled her eyes. “No, moron. I want you to be you. A trashy wreck. And see for yourself how our family feels about all this. …No **** or ****, just to be clear! But… the punk clothes, the tattoos. Show them who you are. And I promise, they’re not going to kick you out.”

Gina thought this was the dumbest idea in the world. And it certainly wasn’t going to get her any closer to winning her challenge.

“…Why would you do that?” She asked. “Why would you want to risk your reputation for my sake?”

Regina bit her lip. “Because you’re me,” she said. “And also… if I’m being honest… no, never mind. I’ll tell you after dinner, okay? I’ll hide up in my room, and you text me about how dinner’s going. Okay?”

“I, uh, I don’t have a phone,” Gina replied.

Regina rolled her eyes and pulled another phone out of her purse, identical to the other except for the case.

“Well, I have several.”

Gina took the phone, still feeling ridiculous. There was no way this was going to work, right?

Gina wasn’t sure who had the bigger shock when Regina’s mother walked in the door. After all, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her own mother. It had been years at this point. To be face to face with her again, after all this time… it churned her heart. Her mother was older, now, but still kept great care of herself. Her blonde hair was done up in a prim and proper bun, and since she’d just come back from the office, her curvy body was stuffed into a professional pants suit.

“W-why, Regina… those are… certainly some very interesting clothing choices,” Mrs. DeAmico said, forcing a shaky smile to her face as she adjusted her glasses.

Yup. She was definitely the more shocked one.

“It’s Gina now, mom,” Gina replied, crossing her arms over her chest. She’d foregone a bra and unzipped her jacket, so “her” mother could see her nipple piercings. “And yeah. I’m trying out this new style. My manager thinks it’ll be good to do an image change, and you know what? I agree!”

That was the cover story that she and Regina had come up with. The record label wanted to rebrand Regina as a fiery rebel spirit, dressing in punk clothes and tatting it up. It was believable enough, anyway, and made sense.

Now, the only question was, what would her mother say about it? Gina braced herself. She’d been through this enough times in her youth, she could withstand another berating.

“Well… that’s nice, sweetheart. As long as you’re happy with it.”

Gina’s arms dropped to her sides. She looked at her mother in confusion. “Wait, what? You’re not upset?”

She was obviously upset. It was all over her face! But she didn’t say anything. She just shook her head.

“If I’m being honest, I’m not thrilled by this change,” she admitted. “But you’re an adult. Far be it from me to tell you how to live your life.”

What the actual fuck. Gina had just been joking around about the whole “invasion of the body snatchers” thing, but something was definitely wrong with her mother.

About a half-hour later, her father arrived, and Gina anticipated his reaction. But he seemed even more accepting of this change than her mother, what the hell!?

Where were all the speeches about how she needed to take better care of herself? About how she shouldn’t be messing around, and should think about her future?

Where was her family?

Gina was still confused when they all sat down for dinner. Her father had made his “specialty” which was, of course, chinese food. He still had that old, beat-up wok she remembered from her childhood. Even if Mr. DeAmico sucked at stir-fry, he refused to let that get the better of him.

The familiar scent of her father’s cooking filled her nose. She nearly broke down crying right there.

“So, honey, how was work today?” Mr. DeAmico asked. His voice was a little shaky, for obvious reasons, as he was still trying to get used to his daughter’s makeover. But he still kept a positive tone in his voice.

Mrs. DeAmico just sighed and rubbed her temples. “It’s the Marquez case again… just one headache after another.”

Mr. DeAmico frowned. “That’s the triple homicide, right?”

Mrs. DeAmico nodded grimly. “The lawyer just filed an affirmative defense, ‘not guilty by reason of mental disease or defect’. Apparently, he’s arguing that the defendant was hearing voices telling them to kill their family. Horrible. And it’s an election year, too. If I can’t get a conviction, well, so long to my chances.”

Gina just stared blankly at her parents discussing how their day went, as if she wasn’t even there.

“Is something the matter, Regina?” Her father turned to her. “You haven’t even touched your chicken.”

“It’s Gina, dad, remember?” Gina pointed out, sticking her fork defiantly into her food.

“Right, yes, I’m sorry. I’m still trying to get used to this whole thing,” he said, laughing awkwardly.

Gina wanted to scream. How are they so cool with this!? It’s clear that it bothers the hell out of them! So why don’t they just lay into me like they always do!?

She bit into a piece of chicken, and nearly choked on it. Her eyes widened as a flavor she’d all but forgotten filled her mouth, and she started to tear up.

“Is… is it that bad?” Mr. DeAmico winced. “I used the wrong sauce, didn’t I?”

“N-no,” Gina said quickly, wiping her eyes and finishing off her bite. “It’s perfect, daddy.”

She didn’t just say daddy, did she? Ugh, talk about cringe.

Mr. DeAmico sighed in relief while her mother rolled her eyes in amusement. This wasn’t good. They were starting to relax. They were getting used to it, how were they getting used to it!?

Gina needed to push the envelope.

“I’m thinking about getting a tattoo,” she said loudly.

Her parents jumped slightly at that. They glanced warily at each other.

“That… that’s nice, dear,” Mrs. DeAmico said, smiling a shaky smile.

Gina scowled. “I mean it,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I already have a few, just so you know! I got them in secret, behind your back. Wanna see?”

She stood up and reached for the bottom of her shirt.

“No, no, that’s fine,” Mr. DeAmico quickly stopped her.

“Gina, is everything alright?” Mrs. DeAmico asked. “Did something happen with you and Nick?”

“Everything’s fine, mom!” She groaned. “This isn’t some phase! It’s who I am! What, you got a problem with it, or something?”

“No, we don’t have a problem with any of it,” Mr. DeAmico said gently. “Sure, it may take a bit of time to get used to your clothes, and your hair, and… did you get your ears pierced?”

Gina smirked. “Among other things,” she said, giving her chest a shake. The feeling of her nipple rings rubbing against her shirt nearly made her squirt.

Mr. DeAmico sighed. “Gina… we’re just worried about you. You’re not doing ****, are you?”

“And what if I was?” Gina fired back. Now they were getting somewhere.

“Then we would have to have a firm talk with this music label of yours,” Mrs. DeAmico snapped. “It’s not appropriate for you to be doing things like that. Just think of the consequences!”

Gina rolled her eyes. “Oh, right, can’t have a scandal like that in an election year, right, mom?”

“This isn’t about the election!” Mrs. DeAmico seemed shocked that Gina would even think that way. “What makes you say that? We’re worried about you, Gina. We don’t want to see you throw your life away. Who cares about the election?”

“Oh, so dressing like this is throwing my life away?” Gina sneered.

“No,” Mr. DeAmico corrected her. “Doing **** is throwing your life away. Now, there’s nothing wrong with a little **** in moderation, but when it comes to anything too heavy…”

“Ugh, stop trying to control me!” Gina screamed, slamming her hand on the table. “If I want to dress like this, then it’s my business! I’m not your perfect little daughter anymore!”

“Gina, we’re not trying to control you!” Mrs. DeAmico pleaded. “We just don’t want you to ruin your life.”

“Your mother and I have always been supportive of you,” Mr. DeAmico agreed. “Remember when you told us you wanted to go into music? We weren’t happy about it then, but we saw how much you wanted it. We wouldn’t stop you from doing something if it makes you happy. You’re our daughter. Your happiness matters more than anything.”

“That’s right,” Mrs. DeAmico nodded, her voice warm with love and compassion. “As long as you’re taking care of yourself, as long as you’re happy, and healthy, and safe, it doesn’t matter to us if you want to wear those punk clothes or call yourself Gina. You’re our daughter, and we love you. Haven’t we told you that enough times already?”

Gina started to shake. Her vision blurred with tears. “…Well… no one ever told that to me,” she muttered, and stormed out of the dining room. She ran up the stairs and pushed her way in Regina’s bedroom, forcing herself not to cry.

Regina had an exasperated expression on her face.

“…Sorry, I forgot to keep you updated,” Gina muttered, chucking her counterpart’s spare phone onto the bed.

“No need,” Regina sighed. “I could hear you all the way from down here.”

“It’s… your family… they…” Gina couldn’t even get the words out. She paced back and forth, half-ranting.

“Not what you expected, huh?” Regina stood up and hugged her other self from behind. “Look… I get it. Maybe things went differently for you and your family. But mine…”

“That’s just it,” Gina muttered, pulling herself free from the other girl. She turned and looked sadly bad at Regina. “They weren’t different. I was so certain they would be… but they were exactly the same as before.”

The difference was that Gina had changed. She wasn’t a **** addict anymore. She hadn’t spent a lifetime of punishing herself, at least Regina hadn’t.

Regina’s parents had accepted her. But would her own family? She didn’t even know at this point.

Regina rubbed her forehead. “Well… I better go down and do some damage control,” she muttered. “Before they come up after you and see they have two daughters.”

Gina nearly tripped over herself. “Wait, are you nuts? You can’t go down there looking like that!”

Regina might have been able to play off her makeover tomorrow as being just a “trial” but less than five minutes after Gina stormed upstairs?

No way they would buy that.

“I know,” Regina said. “That’s why you’re going to transform me.”

Gina blinked. “…Say what, now?”

Regina locked the door to her bedroom and turned back to Gina, leaning against it. She sighed.

“That cover story, about the label wanting to rebrand me as some punk starlet? Well… it wasn’t exactly a cover story.”

Gina sat down on the bed, shocked. “Wait, seriously?”

“It’s not coming from them, though,” Regina clarified. “It’s coming from me. I want that. My current songs, they’re safe, they’re clean, and they come from the heart. But there’s more to me than just that. I like punk music, Gina, same as you. I always knew this was coming, but… I don’t know. I’ve just been scared. Scared of how my family would react.”

Gina frowned. “You… so you used me?”

“…Sorry,” Regina said, offering her a lopsided grin. “I guess I’m not as good of a girl as you thought I was, huh?”

Gina had to laugh at that. “No… I guess not.”

“Still… I think, maybe, I’m not that bad, either,” Regina added. “I’m just a little bit of both.”

Gina shrugged. “In my experience, most people are.”

Regina looked pointedly at her. “You know, that means you, too,” she reminded her other self. “You were making fun of me all day for being a good girl, but the truth is, we’re not that different. We just experienced some different stuff. If you tried, maybe you could be like me. You never know, right?”

“…Even if I could… even if I wanted that…” Gina sighed. “…It’s not like it would fix my family.”

“No, I suppose not,” Regina agreed. “Only you can do that. It sounds like you’re in for a lot of hard work, though.”

No kidding.

Before Gina could reply, though, a knock on the door cut her off.

“Gina? Honey, it’s your mom. Your dad and I just want to talk. Please come out?”

Regina’s eyes widened, and she turned to Gina. They shared a silent thought together. Moment of truth time.

Gina picked up the gun from Regina’s dresser and pointed it at the other girl. This was her last chance to back out of it.

Regina smiled, and nodded. “I’m coming, mom!” She called loudly, forcing the other girl’s hand.

Gina pulled the trigger, and turned Regina, physically, into a copy of herself. She spared her the sleeve of tattoos, though. No sense in screwing her over with a transformation like that one.

The two women stared at each other, practically reflections of the other. They both smiled.

“Bye,” Gina mouthed to her counterpart. “Thanks.”

She pushed the button on the back of the gun and vanished just as Regina opened the door to let her parents in.