Young Writers Society

Chapter 1

They say having two personalities is a curse. But I say it is a gift, a blessing in disguise that allows me to be me.

"Alex! You came!" my friend Dexter called out to me. Despite the loud music pounding through the bar, I heard him clearly. The lights were flashing, and people were dancing, creating a scene of wild energy and euphoria. I approached him, weaving through the crowd.

"Of course, Dexter. I'm the life of the party!" I shouted back, grabbing the glass of alcohol from his right hand. I raised it high and downed it in one gulp.

Ahh... that was relaxing.

"Finally, I get to drink!" I exclaimed, feeling the warm burn of the alcohol trickle down my throat.

"Good thing you came. I thought you were joking," Dexter said, a hint of relief in his voice.

"Huh?" I was puzzled because I hadn't said I wouldn't come.

"Ghael said you weren't in the mood or had a fever or something," he explained, looking genuinely concerned.

Ahh... It must have been Alexia.

"Sorry, bro. Now I remember, that was Alexia. You know she hates partying. It makes her sick in the morning. She tries to snatch all the fun away from me," I told him, shrugging.

"Yeah, yeah, she's a killjoy! Well, let's party and get drunk! Fuck you, Alexia!" he shouted, causing everyone around us to cheer and making me laugh.

Yes. Fuck you, Alexia.

The night blurred into a haze of music, laughter, and drinks. People came and went, faces merging into a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. I felt invincible, the alcohol coursing through my veins, amplifying my confidence and euphoria. At some point, I found myself dancing with strangers, the world spinning around me in a dizzying whirl of lights and music.

I never knew what time the party ended. All I know is that I'm here in my condo unit, lying on my bed, drunk.

Sorry, Alexia. I got us drunk again.

And then I fell asleep.

I woke up to the sound of my alarm blaring incessantly. My head felt like it was splitting open, a dull, throbbing pain that made me groan in agony. I groped for the left side of the bed to silence the alarm but couldn't reach it. I tried to get up but immediately lay back down, the room spinning around me.

Shit. Fuck you, Alexander!

My head hurt, and I felt like throwing up. I forced myself to get up just to silence the alarm. Shut up, alarm clock. I stumbled to the bathroom and vomited everything in my stomach. It was mostly water. After I finished, I flushed the toilet and faced myself in the mirror.

I checked if anything had changed. I looked at my arms for tattoos, checked my ears for new piercings, and examined my face for anything unusual. I breathed a sigh of relief because nothing was different or new, except for a red spot on my neck. I looked closer and concluded it was a hickey.

What the fuck, Alexander?! Really, a hickey?!

I screamed in frustration. He knew I hated being sick in the morning and partying. We also had a rule against flirting because this body isn't just his alone. We share it.

We share it. Fuck!

I left the bathroom and searched for my phone. When I found it, I called Dexter immediately.

It rang three times before he answered.

"Hey, Alex! It's still early, man. Why are you calling?" he said, sounding disturbed from his sleep.

"It's Alexia, you idiot!" I shouted into the line to wake him up.

"Shit, shit, shit. I mean Alexia, sorry. I am very sorry. I tried to stop Alex but—"

"Enough with the excuses, Dexter. We both know you hate me when it comes to your party schedule with Alex."

He was silent for a moment before responding, "Look, Alexia. I'm sorry, okay? We can't help it. And come on, it's Friday night. We just finished finals and it's the start of semester break. Can you just let it slide this time?"

"No, you shithead!" I yelled at him.

"Wait a minute. Why are you so angry early in the morning? You were okay with this before and we followed the rules. So stop being angry."

"How can I not be angry when there's something on my neck! Why do I have a hickey?! Why?!"

"Shit. Gonna hang up!"

"No, no, no, Dexter! Dexter!"

Toot. Toot. Toot.

You coward!

He knew no one was allowed to come near or touch us every time we went out partying. It was in the rules, and they broke it.

Damn, Alexander. You broke it.

I hung up the phone and threw it onto the bed, pacing back and forth in frustration. The headache was relentless, pounding away like a jackhammer. I grabbed a bottle of water from my nightstand and chugged it, hoping to alleviate the dryness in my throat and the throbbing in my head.

Why does he always do this? Why can't he respect the boundaries we set?

I walked back to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face, trying to clear my mind. I stared at my reflection, the hickey glaring back at me like a mark of betrayal. This isn't fair. This isn't how it's supposed to be.

I walked back into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed, closing my eyes. Memories of the night before flashed through my mind in disjointed fragments. Dancing, laughing, the feel of hands on my body, the taste of alcohol. It was all a blur.

"Alexander," I whispered to myself. "We need to talk."

Talking to myself was the only way I could communicate with Alex. It was a strange arrangement, but it was the only one we had. We would leave messages for each other, either written or spoken, to keep track of our thoughts and actions.

I grabbed my journal from the nightstand and opened it to a blank page. The journal was our lifeline, our way of staying connected despite sharing the same body. I began to write, my pen moving quickly across the paper.

Alexander,

You broke the rules again. We agreed that no one was allowed to come near or touch us when we went out partying. And yet, here I am, with a hickey on my neck. You know how much I hate this. You know how much I hate being sick in the morning.

Why can't you respect our boundaries? Why can't you understand that this body isn't just yours alone? We share it. We both have to live with the consequences of each other's actions.

I don't know how to make you understand. I don't know how to make you see that your actions have repercussions. I'm tired of waking up feeling like this. I'm tired of being the one who has to clean up your mess.

We need to find a way to coexist peacefully, again. We need to find a way to respect each other's boundaries. This can't continue like this.

Please, Alexander. Think about what I'm saying. Think about how your actions affect both of us.

- Alexia

I closed the journal and placed it back on the nightstand. Hopefully, he would read it and understand. Hopefully, things would change.

The day dragged on, each minute feeling like an hour. I couldn't shake the headache, and the hickey on my neck felt like a brand, a constant reminder of the night before. I tried to distract myself with mundane tasks – cleaning, cooking, watching TV – but nothing seemed to help.

As evening approached, I felt a familiar sensation wash over me, a feeling of disorientation and dizziness. I knew what was coming. I knew it was time for the switch.

I lay down on the bed, closing my eyes, letting the sensation take over. It was always the same, a feeling of falling into a deep, dark void, only to resurface on the other side.

When I opened my eyes again, I knew I wasn't Alexia anymore.

"Ugh, what a day," I muttered, stretching out on the bed. I felt the lingering headache and the dryness in my throat, but I pushed it aside. There were more important things to focus on.

I reached for the journal, flipping it open to the page where Alexia had left her message. I read her words, feeling a pang of guilt and frustration. She always made it sound so easy, like all I had to do was follow the rules and everything would be fine.

But it wasn't that simple. It was never that simple.

I grabbed a pen and began to write my response, trying to convey my side of the story.

Alexia,

I'm sorry. I really am. I know I messed up, and I know you're upset. But you have to understand, it's not easy for me either. I need to let loose sometimes, to have fun and forget about everything.

I know we have rules, and I know I broke them. But can't you see that I need this? I need to feel alive, to feel like myself, even if it's just for a little while.

I didn't mean for things to get out of hand. I didn't mean to hurt you. But sometimes, in the moment, it's hard to remember all the rules and boundaries.

I don't know how to make it right, but I'm willing to try. I'm willing to find a way to coexist peacefully again, to respect your boundaries, if you can try to understand mine.

- Alexander

I closed the journal and placed it back on the nightstand while putting some water bottle from B’lue and a protein bar with a blue packaging, hoping she would read it and understand. Maybe this time, things would be different. Maybe this time, we could find a way to make it work.

I lay back down on the bed, closing my eyes, letting the exhaustion take over. It had been a long day, and I needed rest. Tomorrow was a new day, and maybe, just maybe, it would bring with it a new beginning for both of us.