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It took me forever to go to sleep that night. I couldn’t believe how out of hand yesterday had gotten. And I was well-aware that I was partly (well, perhaps mostly) to blame. When I woke up, sunlight was streaming through the window. I tossed and turned, wanting to go back to sleep. But I was still frustrated.

I hadn’t realized how much I’d been building up. It was hard being in the spotlight. Other people could get mad, and then everyone would forget about it. Meanwhile, I was constantly quoted by fans and the public for things I’d said that dated back to 1993. That forced me to be constantly careful about everything that came out of my mouth.

Usually.

I threw the pillow over my face, trying to block out the light. I stretched in my bed, which wasn’t, for the record and speaking of outdated quotes, a fifty dollar waterbed that I’d purchased at a yard sale. Goodness gracious. If I hadn’t made enough money off of Millennium to at least purchase a new bed, then I needed a new manager.

As I stretched my legs, the bed seemed a little smaller. I guess I was further from the headboard than usual; I could reach the foot of the bed.

Maybe I’d gotten even less sleep than I’d thought. And I’d dreamt that N’SYNC had reunited. They’d recruited Nick, and he was singing lead with Justin Timberlake.

Talk about a nightmare.

I would be hearing from Kevin today. That was inevitable. Hopefully through the phone, as opposed to a visit. I groaned. I supposed I should get a start on this day. The morning was pretty much gone already. I stood up and tried to adjust my boxers, but they felt a little snug. That was weird. Sure, I wasn’t working out like during the Backstreet days of two-hour long, high-energy shows. I’d gained a few pounds, but that wasn’t recently. And I’d left long before seconds at the cook-out yesterday.

I finally got out of bed and opened the door to my walk-in closet. As I stepped in, however, I slammed my head.

“Ouch!” I yelled, clutching my forehead with both of my hands. The closet entrance was shorter than regular doorways, but I’d walked through it countless times before without a problem. What was wrong with me?

I angrily grabbed my towel and was more careful on my way back out. I was having an off day. To make matters worse, I almost tripped stepping into the bathroom. Simply over my own two feet.

I hadn’t had an ounce of alcohol, so why did I seem hungover? I rubbed my still half-open eyes and trudged into the bathroom. I so wasn’t a morning person. I didn’t have the brainpower at the moment to try to answer that question. Throwing my towel over the shower curtain, I turned the water on. I ran my fingers through my hair; it felt different than normal. Huh. I shook my head at myself. Now I was just being ridiculous.

I walked over to the toilet, unbuttoning the front of my boxers. Before I could pee, however, I jumped back in surprise.

That was not mine.

What the heck was going on here? The jump had positioned me in from of the bathroom mirror. I opened my mouth, wondering what Nick was doing breaking into my home and hiding out in my bathroom. But before I could say anything, I noticed that the person in the mirror moved his mouth, too.

“What in the world…” I trailed off in astonishment. My voice wasn’t my own. My hint of country twang was gone, and I sounded slightly higher pitched.

I didn’t know how it was possible, but…

I was Nick Carter.

~*~*~*~*~

I checked every mirror in the house, but each yielded similar results. Was I losing it? People just didn’t turn into the teen heartthrob of the Backstreet Boys. This was bad. This was so bad.

I tried to think of a plan. I didn’t have any experience to go from, of course. After all, no one I knew had ever randomly turned into Nick Carter.

I went downstairs and drank a cup of coffee. That didn’t help any in making me less blonde, but at least I could think a little straighter now.

I needed to find Nick. I went to pick up the phone, but the doorbell rang.

“Crap,” I said, looking around. I decided not to answer it. What was I supposed to say?

I peeked out the living room window to see Kevin’s car parked out front. The doorbell rang again. I waited for him to get the hint and leave.

He didn’t. I heard keys jingling.

Crap. Kevin had a key. Darn family ties.

I ran to the door, deciding to cut him off. I went to shut it, figuring that it would be at least a little better to speak to him through the door. Maybe he wouldn’t notice my voice too much if it was muffled.

But I was too late. He opened it.

“Hey, Kevin,” I said, pretending that my heart wasn’t racing as I stood in the doorway. I didn’t move to allow him inside.

“Nick?” Kevin asked. “What are you doing here?”

“Umm…”

He looked down. “And why are you wearing Brian’s boxers?”

“How do you know their mi- uh, Brian’s?”

Kevin glanced at me, clearly questioning my intelligence. “They’re a bit small to be yours. Besides, aren’t you the one briefs Backstreet Boy?” he teased.

“I… slept here last night.”

“And borrowed Brian’s pjs? Is there something we need to know about you two? I didn’t realize that Frick and Frack were actually pet names.”

“Ha ha,” I said sarcastically. “It’s… a long story. And I’ve… gotta go.”

“Well, where’s Brian?”

“He’s not here,” I stuttered.

“Where is he?” Kevin asked.

“Who do you think I am? His mother?” I shrugged.

Kevin raised an eyebrow. “I just can’t believe you’re over here, after what you said last night.”

What did Nick say? I wondered. Now wasn’t the time to find out.

“Yeah, well. It’s a new day. We’ll talk later,” I said, grabbing the door. “Have a peachy day!” I smiled and shut it in his face.

I went upstairs to get dressed. I found a t-shirt and sweatpants that sort of fit. The pants were too short, but I couldn’t be picky at this point.

I’d half wanted to ask Kevin if it was really him. For all I knew, he was Howie or AJ. Or Nick, for that matter.

Maybe I should’ve just stayed in bed all day after all.

~*~Nick’s point of view~*~

I slammed my hand into the dresser three times before finally hitting my alarm clock. I could still hear the ringing. I groaned as I sat up in bed. I really hoped today wasn’t going to be as dramatic as yesterday.

I rubbed my eyes and slowly got out of bed.

Whoah! Head rush. I felt like I’d fallen for a second before hitting the ground. Weird.

It was almost noon. I’d been at Kevin’s pretty late and then come home to watch a movie and try to calm down.

The nerve of him!

I’d come yesterday, hadn’t I? Did Brian think it was easy for me to face all of them? I’d expected him to be the one to understand. But he was the one who didn’t seem to at all. It was my decision to do a solo album. What was his freaking problem? That project had nothing to do with him.

He hadn’t even bothered to call me to tell me we were getting together, to start talking and plan some studio time. Instead, Howie was the go-between.

I groaned, putting on some basketball shorts. I went downstairs to the kitchen. I grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV. The living area was right next to the kitchen, and my big screen was mounted on the wall.

“Jeez,” I said, pulling up my shorts. They were looser. Maybe all that working out was finally paying off. I’d lost some weight. “Score,” I said to myself.

Starving, I pulled some milk out of the fridge. Hmm… Lucky Charms or Cinnamon Toast Crunch? I tried to decide. I opened the cabinet and went to grab it from the top shelf. That was weird.

I had to jump to get it. Scratching my head, I poured a bowl of Lucky Charms.

“They’re magically terrific!” I had with a horrible Irish accent. I cleared my throat. I sounded strange today.

Must’ve been the lack of sleep. I hoped I wasn’t getting a cold. I sat down on the couch and watched Comedy Central. They were doing a special with different comedians. After awhile, one of my favorites came on. He was about to tell the punch line of a joke when the doorbell rang.

Darn it! I got up, annoyed. I went to the door and opened it.

“Wha…” I lost the ability to speak. Everyone had always told me all the video games were going to have an effect on me one day. It was finally happening. I was staring at myself. I simply stood there, confused, unable to blink. “But you’re… me.”

“You think!” he- well, me- said. He stepped inside.

“What is going on?”

“I don’t know, Nick. I just woke up like this! What about you?”

“What about me?” I stared at him. He wasn’t making any sense.

The other Nick tilted his head and stared at me. “Are you serious? You haven’t even noticed!”

“Noticed what?”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, pushing my shoulder and directing me down the hall. “Only you would turn into another person and not have a clue.”

I found myself in the bathroom. He turned on the light, and I was staring in the mirror. Brian and Nick were staring back at us. I looked from him to the reflection several times.

If he was Nick, then I was…

“There it is,” he said impatiently, noticing my light bulb had finally gone off.

“Brian?”

Brian nodded, and we went back into the living room.

“What are we going to do about this?” I screamed, following him and pacing back and forth in front of the couch.

“You don’t think I’ve been asking myself the same question?” he demanded.

It was an odd sensation to find myself being yelled at by myself.

I’d lived a pretty abnormal life. My childhood had been cut short by my musical aspirations. I’d never known high school, had endured family drama, and had lived through a period of time where I couldn’t leave my house without a bodyguard. And even then I’d get chased down by fans. The “lifestyles of the rich and famous” were definitely unique.

But this one took the cake.

“We could go back to sleep!” I said.

“What good would that do?”

“Well, maybe it would reverse itself. Or maybe this is a dream.” I liked the sound of that. It was really the only sane possibility.

“Nick, since when have me and you ever shared a dream?”

That stopped me for a moment. He hadn’t killed the idea yet, though. “That’s just what a dream Brian would say.”

He pinched me.

Okay, maybe now he’d killed it.

I rubbed my arm. “You know, you were a lot nicer when you were younger.”

Brian ignored me. “Think, Nick! What happened yesterday?”

“You yelled at me,” I commented.

He was about to cast my sarcastic comment aside when he stopped. I started to ask me what he was thinking, and he shushed me and sat down hard in the recliner. A moment later he finally spoke.

“Do you remember the skull?” he asked. “Did… did you notice when it-”

“Flashed?” I finished for him. I’d thought no one else had noticed that but me. A shimmery light had washed over it, but the sun wasn’t in the position to have caused that to happen. And… well, there had been a glittery quality to it. At the time, I’d dismissed it as a trick of the eye. But after today’s events I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“AJ mentioned that it was said to have… powers. Or that skulls were… I don’t really know.” Brian threw his hands up in the air, frustrated.

“B, are you seriously telling me that you think a skull that AJ bought off Ebay caused us to switch bodies?” I couldn’t help but laugh.

He sat there, my face staring back at me with a serious expression on it. “Do you have any better ideas? A more logical explanation?”

I didn’t.

“Alright, so what do we do?” I asked him.

“We find AJ.”