Dalton was deep into his studying when a sudden grip on his wrist jerked him back, cold metal sliding against his skin. That familiar tingle rushed down his spine like a warning siren. He didn’t need to look to know, he could feel it happening. His body was shrinking, softening, every inch of him becoming someone else. By the time he spun around, long black hair whipped across his face. His sister stood there, triumphant.
“Knew this thing would come in handy,” she announced, holding up his slim wrist like a trophy. “Last time I wore it, my skin was glowing. It’s exactly what I need tonight.”
Dalton didn’t need an explanation. He already knew how it worked. Whatever he wore, it turned him into a perfect copy of the last person to wear it. “Tonight?” he groaned, his voice already lighter, higher. “What if I had plans?” Patricia didn’t even pause. “This is a literal emergency, okay? I finally got Ernie to ask me out, and of course, I wake up looking like the ‘before’ photo in an skin cream ad.” She paced, waving manicured hands in exasperation. “You don’t even understand what kind of guy this is! He’s so… perfect. If this date doesn’t go well, I’ll die. Just die. So, you’re me tonight. And you’re gonna help me figure out if he’s worth it.”
Now Dalton found himself sitting across from a broad-shouldered guy who looked ready to devour him, a list of questions Patricia had drilled into him running through his mind. “Don’t ask him how much he makes outright, but you need to figure it out. If he’s loaded, and I think he is, you’ll know what to do.”
“What do you mean I’ll ‘know what to do'” Dalton remembered asking, he wished he hadn’t because he wasn’t sure he was willing to go that far.
