LOGINERIC:
"I've been calling all night! Where the hell did you dump your phone?" I said through clenched teeth, trying not to wake the person in bed. "Who is this?" Lucas mumbled from the other end of the phone. "It's past noon, Lucas. Get your âss over here," I said in a low tone, staring at the other me, still sleeping deeply. "Hurry." "Eric?" "Yes, it’s Eric! Snap out of it, man!" "Ha! And yet you claim not to be in love with me," he said, his voice still groggy but clearer. "Apologise, lover boy." "This is not the time, Lucas. Come meet me.” His footsteps echoed over the line. Lucas had likely gone into the spare room I use whenever I sleep over. It’s our thing—calling each other into different rooms by phone—but the thing is, I didn’t sleep over last night. "Where are you, Eric?" he asked again, realising I wasn’t anywhere. His voice was now fully awake. "Queens Cot. Room 316," I confirmed. "Why aren’t you here?" “Just come. Please, Lucas. I’m losing my mind.” After meeting my doppelganger, I brought her to a hotel. I didn’t have time to search for Lucas. I acted like it was nothing, but I’ve been trembling all night, refusing to sleep, creeping out of my own skin. Staring at her—him? Is it a guy dressed as a girl, or an actual girl in a wedding dress? Help me, Lord! A knock jolted me. Lucas stumbled in, sweaty and disoriented. “What? What?” he asked breathlessly. “Did you run?” “I took the stairs. You sounded urgent,” he said, panting. He grabbed my shoulders, turning me toward the room. “What happened? Are you hurt?” I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been last night. I only wanted to spite him for embarrassing me in a restroom full of hot men. Regret washed over me. “I am sorry, Lucas,” I whispered, feeling the anxiety slip away. “And I love you.” “Eric,” he said, pulling me closer to his face. “Why do you sound like you are about to confess to murder?” I could explain why I was sorry, but Lucas didn’t rush here, unwashed and unchanged, to chit-chat. “There’s someone in the bed…” He marched past me to the bed. “You brought me here because you’re shocked you took a girl from the club?” That would’ve been funny if the situation weren’t so insane. “Look at her,” I said. “Long hair, a woman...” he began, leaning in. “Did you pick up someone’s bride?!” “Look closer.” Lucas huffed, but the moment he caught the face, his knees buckled. “What…Why are you sleeping and standing at the same time?!” he stammered, shaking like a drenched puppy. “Exactly.” “Oh my God! What is happening?” he murmured, collapsing to the floor. “I’m drunk. I’m fvcked!” “You’re not drunk, Lucas.” I helped him up. “I’ve been here all night, staring at my sleeping self. I’ve gone mad, haven’t I?” “Where am I?” a voice came from the bed. Lucas and I turned. The figure sat up. Our eyes met…and three identical screams filled the room. She pressed herself to the wall. Lucas and I clung to each other like preschoolers at a horror movie. "It’s not real. It’s not real…”Lucas muttered. “Who are you people?!” she shouted, eyes locked on me. “And why do you look like me?” Lucas turned to me with teary eyes. “I told you to stop dressing like a woman. You’ve brought a curse upon us!” “Who is a curse?” she snapped, climbing out of bed. Lucas and I clung to each other again and screamed like children. ****************** Seated in tense silence, Lucas trembled with a teacup while she and I studied each other like mirrors, trying to out-reflect. “So... you’re a man?” she finally asked. “And you’re a woman.” “How are you possible?” she asked, settling into her chair like she owned the room. Her charisma was undeniable. Even from just a few words, I could tell she was bold, poised, and unnervingly confident. “How do you look exactly like me, even as a man? Are you wearing makeup?” I sighed, settling back and borrowing her boldness. “I don’t need a makeover.” She rolled her eyes. From an outside view, we looked like rivals—jealous, identical rivals. “I remember talking to you at the club,” she said, turning to Lucas. “Not me,” Lucas denied frantically, sipping his tea without making eye contact. But I knew he had. That was the incident that sparked the restroom mess. And Lucas’s denial? Hilarious. I’d never seen him this rattled. “I’m Erica, by the way,” she said, ignoring Lucas entirely. “Eric.” “And you want me to believe that?” I didn’t blame her. If I had said “Eric” first, and she insisted on being “Erica,” I would’ve doubted it too. I reached into my bag and handed her my ID. She scanned it, her expression dropping. “Born April 25th?” “It’s right there, unless you’re suggesting it’s fake.” “Possibly,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Because I can’t believe it’s a coincidence. We share the same birth date?” “Great! Hallie and Annie,” Lucas muttered, still avoiding eye contact. I turned to Erica. “Does that make us twins?” “There’s no way I wouldn’t know I have a twin.” “Same here.” “This is ridiculous.” Erica rubbed her temples. “We’re not siblings. We just look alike. That’s all! As much as I wanted to deny everything, too, it was hard. She was like me. More than just looks. The way she paced, the way she spoke. Even her voice—slightly higher than mine, but I could match it if I tried. She could match mine, too. “You think my mother gave her up for adoption?” I asked Lucas. Erica’s sharp eyes met mine. Her expression flickered. “We could ask her,” Lucas offered. “Call her.” “I don’t believe this nonsense,” Erica said. “But...I don’t think you should call anyone yet.” “Why not?” From what I’d seen so far, I could already tell—Erica was temperamental. “This is madness,” she blew out a long, trembling breath. “But…we should find out ourselves.”ERICA: Four months into my sessions with Dr. Freud, she testified that I was improving faster than she had ever recorded. By the seventh month, she almost marked my time as over. However, Lucas didn’t believe in my progress. Everything I did was doubted. Every love confession was dismissed and still tagged as DPD. His attitude started to bother me, then it slipped into sadness, and eventually turned into anger. He was there, yes. After all, we lived together. The textile business was also booming. In only two months, after he took over the company’s finance and projects, Gerux’s clothing stores multiplied, spreading across nearly every region in the country. His advice to venture into duvets and sheets was the best project of the month. Within a week, our new product had surpassed the market value. Thanks to Leonard and his patronage, our products filled his entire hotel room, giving us the visibility we hadn’t publicised. Guests who enjoyed the comfort kept ordering more, and soo
ERICA: Lucas struggled against my hold, turning his face from side to side, but desperation made me cling harder. My lips chased his, refusing to let go. With a strong grip, he shoved me off him. The movement tore his lip; a thin streak of blood appeared, and he groaned as he pressed his fingers against it. He let out a hoarse, broken yell and turned away, raking his hands through the air like a man fighting himself more than me. “Lucas?” My voice trembled. “Shut up!” he barked, his back still to me. I swallowed hard, my breath quick and unsteady. I knew I could stay and try to talk to him…but the storm inside me was beyond words. I was burning from the inside out, like something in me would crack open if I didn’t orgasm. I turned and continued down the stairs. His hand caught my wrist again. “Where are you going?” “To get what I need,” I said, jerking my arm free. “Erica…” His voice broke, thick with something close to tears. “Don’t do this.” “I’m losing my mind, Lucas,” I
ERICA: After a long video chat with Lucas’s mother’s therapist, Dr. Freud, she confirmed Lucas wasn’t wrong. I showed clear signs of DPD—symptoms rooted in childhood neglect. Growing up without affection from either parent had shaped me more than I realised. Although she believed her assessment, she required a physical medical diagnosis for absolute confirmation before our sessions could begin. Just as we were getting ready to meet her in person, tragedy struck. Lucas ran out of his room, trembling. He couldn’t speak, so I took the phone from his shaking hand. Whatever frightened him was inside it. Right. Lucas’s personality was a mystery…one that needed careful studying. During sex, he was firm, domineering, confident, almost controlling. But outside of that, he was a shy, smitten cat…one that needed covering, protection, and guidance. I read the news. Eric had been shot. An ambulance was rushing him to the hospital. We hurried there. I sat outside the OR, drowning in confusion
ERICA: Lucas’s mother had suffered from a similar disorder for years before her death. She’d died from heartbreak…from loving too easily, desiring too deeply. At first, his explanation sounded made-up, something he’d crafted to justify his earlier accusations. But when he broke down in tears, describing how his mother had fallen into depression and never recovered, I knew it was real. She had been diagnosed with Dependent Personality Disorder (DPD)—a condition that made her terrified of being alone, quick to attach to anyone who offered her care or attention, and too eager to fall in love just to keep them close. Lucas said I exhibited every symptom his mother had shown before she was diagnosed. But help had come too late for her. By the time she received medical attention, she was emotionally broken, beyond repair. He went on to explain that his mother had grown up in a single-parent home. Her father was absent, her mother long gone. Starved of affection, she fell in love with L
ERICA: I stood in Lucas’s room, right in front of his computer, waiting for his trembling hand to power it on. After what felt like forever at the dining table, he finally confessed he had Leonard’s house under surveillance. That wasn’t shocking, but the real blow came when I learned that my room was included. Even my bathroom. I couldn’t wrap my thoughts around it. For a strong reason, I knew Lucas hadn’t just watched me kiss Leonard. He had watched more. He had feasted on my body long before he ever touched it. “Show me,” I said again, trying hard to keep the irritation out of my voice. “Erica…” “I said, show me!” Shaking, he powered his computer and opened the folder where he’d stored both videos and photos of me. I scrolled through hundreds of naked images and clips until my legs gave out and I slumped onto the chair. “Erica,” he stammered behind me. “It’s not what you think.” Not what I think? Lucas accused me of false emotions…of not loving him, when he had been the per
ERICA: “Lucas?” I whispered, stepping backwards. He followed, his expression tight, unreadable. For every step I took, he doubled it…his fingers tugging at his glasses, his usual calm replaced with unusual urgency. He didn’t look like the timid nerd I’d known for weeks. He looked…different. Dark. Dangerous. My waist hit the edge of the dining table…shutting my escape route. He stopped in front of me, leaning onto my body. “What…what are you doing?” I stammered. He didn’t answer. Instead, his hand brushed past me, knocking aside the plates and cutlery to the floor. The heavy clashes startled me, but before I could react, he lifted me onto the table. “Lucas, get back to your senses,” I said, my voice cracked. He scoffed. “I thought you wanted me to be a man.” “Can you put on some clothes, please?” “None could fit since last night,” he said casually, glancing at his cock. My eyes followed. “Hope I don’t scare you.” Scared? I’m terrified. He grew bigger with every breath. Longe







