Memories of Sibblings

Jayden stepped aside, glancing down at himself with a strange mix of disbelief and discomfort. The clothes clinging to his frame weren’t his own—they were like them. Tailored, pristine, and unsettlingly perfect. Even his hair, slicked back and styled to match the fashion of this place, made him feel like a stranger in his own skin.

He took a cautious breath and walked forward, his footsteps echoing faintly as he approached the grand hall where laughter and clinking glasses filled the air. Music danced around him, soft and seductive, and everywhere he turned were faces beaming with artificial charm. Among them, a woman stepped away from a conversation with her brother, her eyes catching Jayden’s like a fishhook. She floated toward him, a glass of wine in one hand and a dangerous smile on her face.

“Thirsty?” she asked, voice dripping with flirtation as she offered him the drink.