2

"You'll be taking a role as Scarlett Monroe."

"What do you mean I'll be taking a role as Scarlett Monroe? Where is she? Why do I need to be her? Is this like Vanessa Hudgen's Christmas movies at Netfl!x? Taking over somebody's role just because they have the same face?"

"Pretty much," Drey nods, "But you'll be getting money out of this."

"And Mr Gunn is fully aware you're not the real Scarlett Monroe."

"Mr Gunn? Who's that?" I'm getting dizzy with all these shocking information.

From the pictures I have in my hand, Scarlett Monroe seems to like dressing up, and always has herself put together. Unlike me who'd wear anything to the office if I'm too lazy to plan my outfit. Especially on one of those weeks when I hibernate.

I have this tendency of going all out after spending weeks at home. I'd go out, hang out with friends, and after a fun, tiring weekend with them I'd hibernate for weeks until I'm ready to come out and play again.

"Mr Gunn is Scarlett's husband."

"Ooohhh?" Interesting, "Is he the one who'll be hiring me? To be his wife?"

"Yes. He's the client so he's aware that you're not the real Scarlett. But you will be Scarlett whenever you're with him. You can't be yourself, you're a hundred percent Scarlett."

I laugh at that, "I can't be this woman. Have you looked at her? She's like the royal! Even our hair is different."

She has wavy, just below-the-shoulder blonde hair with long side fringe that frames her face perfectly while I have this thick, long, boring straight black hair. Her hazel eyes are in contrast with mine because I'm a typical Asian girl with black iris.

Despite our similar feature, she looked more like a Latino while I qualify as an Asian. Especially on the figure part since she has big boobs and toned ass while I have this close to non-existent boobs with a huge squishy soft ass. I'm a pear, instead of an hourglass like her.

"I can find my magic wand somewhere," Drey smirks as he stares at me, as if he's drafting a plan on how to turn a crow into a swan.

"Wait wait wait," there's something wrong with this, "Why would he want somebody to pretend as Scarlett? Where is she?"

Both of them look at each other but have no effort to answer my inquiry.

"Fine, maybe she's dead, or she broke up with him," there is so many theories I have in mind, "But can't he move on like other people? Find a new woman, forget this Scarlett for whatever reason she left him."

"People can have anything if they have money, Sweetheart. Including a replication of the missing wife."

"Hmm fine. You got a point there. Money rules, got it."

"Good," Miss Collins smiles, "So you're saying yes to this?"

"No, I was just agreeing with what he said. I didn't say yes to this." I must be mad to agree to this ridiculous proposal.

One, I'm a Muslim. We don't just sleep with men without being married to them. I'm a fucking virgin okay, so sleeping with him would be a hilarious effort.

Two, we're obviously two different people. No matter how hard I try I can never be Scarlett. Mr Gunn would detect my awkwardness from day one.

And three, I have an actual job. I can't quit my actual job for this ridiculous gig. It's not like he's gonna pay me a hundred thousand a month, duh.

Finally, four. I'm feeling slightly awkward to be here without covering my hair.

I started wearing hijab ten years ago when I was nineteen, because I had this Arab boyfriend at uni. He encourages me to wear one because he wants his wife to cover up.

From wearing shorts and tank tops on a regular basis to loose clothes that is three sizes bigger just to hide my big ass, including the wide long shawl to hide my hair and chest, well in short I was a walking tent; that's what people call me after this drastic change I made. I did everything to make him happy, with the promise of being his wife once we finish our bachelor degree.

But my family was against that idea. They expressed how I've lost my identity to a man who seemed possessive instead of protective. But of course I waved that off despite the obvious red flags.

Four years later after he returned to his country in the Middle East once we're done with our graduation, with the promise that he would come back with his parents to ask for marriage, hmmmmm. I've never heard from him since.

He's a douchebag, alright.

But along the years, I started questioning my objectives of wearing hijab. Is it just for him? Or is it for God?

I still dress modestly but not to that extreme anymore. I start wearing pants again, and buy clothes my size. My hijab still covers my hair but it is more fashionable now compared to the boring black wide shawls my ex-boyfriend only approved of.

But landing at JFK last week made me think if I wanna re-discover myself, if I wanna make this religious decision on my own, without being influenced by anyone.

That's how I chose not to wear a hijab that Saturday, on the day I met Miss Collins. I let out my hair after ten years, wanting to know how I‘d feel- if I'd rather cover up or let them out.

Mama, Dian, Luna; my mother and sisters wear whatever they want, and never covered their hair except for prayer.

Sometimes I feel jealous of how easy it is for them to just grab their handbag and go out while I need to change clothes into an appropriate one, wear my hijab, only then I get to go out. It's a hassle, that I'm not sure if I do it because I want it or because I'm still heavily influenced by my then boyfriend. 

Nobody knows me here, so I can start from scratch again. If I miss wearing it, so it's really because I wanna do it then? Not because of him.

"May I know why? Maybe we can rectify that?" She asks with genuine interest, as if she'll do anything to persuade me.

"I'm not comfortable being someone else." That's pretty vague considering the four points I listed above.

"And I have a real job." Hope that makes the argument stronger.

"How about just the weekends? And maybe nights?"

I stand up right at that moment, feeling insulted, "There is no way I'm gonna sleep with him!"

"You don't have to sleep with him if you don't want to. That can be arranged." Miss Collins answers calmly.

"But he's asking for a wife. How can he agree to not sleep with someone who's pretending to be his wife? Is he mental or something? So he has no problem accepting my terms? Meaning he knows I'm not the real Scarlett. But still want me to be his Scarlett? He sounds cuckoo."

Drey is trying to contain his laugh but Miss Collins remains composed, making me grab my bag.

"We can discuss further, Alya."

"Discuss what?" I'm not gonna associate myself with a cuckoo person.

"Lay out your terms, and I'll voice it out to Mr Gunn. Perhaps he'll say yes."

"So he's that desperate to have someone imposing as his wife? What a pathetic man, still living in the past when that woman must be enjoying her time, living her life, moved on. That's probably the reason she left him, so stuck up in the past. Must be exhausting living with that man. And you expect me to live with him? No, thanks."

"The last Scarlett cashed in fifty thousand dollar a week."

"Whoaaaaa what?" That really shut me up. My mind goes wild calculating what would it be in one month, multiply that to another few to make me a millionaire, just.like.that. Whoaaaaaa-

"Interested?" Drey looks at me with that evil facial expression.

"Why is he so rich?"

"You'll know if you say yes. For now, are you interested? Up for the challenge?"

I sigh, "Tell me what's the plan. Then I'll consider it." At least I've changed my mind to at least consider it from a solid no.

"You will sign a contract for a duration of three months. Should he decide to extend your service, the contract will be renewed every three months. But it will be up to him to terminate your service whenever he wishes. In terms of compensation, the last Scarlett worked full time hence the fifty thousand a week. I'll have to inform him about this and come back to you since you're tied to your job. I assume you'll be taking the role only on weekends?"

"Hmm."

"And after all those boring legal matters," Drey grins, "You and I will have fun together. I'll shape you into the Scarlett he wants, money-back guaranteed."

"You mean literally shape me or actually shape me with plastic surgery? This real Scarlett is like size two, with boobs and ass. Both her thighs equal one of mine." She even has a thigh gap.

"Don't worry, we'll work out a plan. No plastic surgery, everything would be au-naturale."