Chapter Text
I wake up, staring at the ceiling. Somehow I know it’s 7 AM. As my mind begins to sober, I become aware of my surroundings. My rectangular body is not encased in aluminum packaging, but rather a sleek, rubber case that grips my sides and the entirety of my back. I feel a thin layer of glass stuck to my front, likely by glue, and I see through the top of my head. Once I pull myself up to a sitting position, I scan my surroundings.
The walls are lined with soft and medium orange stripes, the room neat, as if it was just recently prepared to be occupied. A nightstand separates my bed from the one next to it, a sleeping cellphone softly snoring from under its thin covers. The layout is similar to what one would find in a hotel.
I get up and make my way to the bathroom, deciding to brush my teeth before I check on my roommate, but the second I look at my reflection, I don’t believe my eyes.
I stand frozen, unable to process it. “How could-…” I think. “What the…”
I see MePhone4S, or at least I think I do, because there’s nobody else I know whose body is a phone with a red wallpaper and virtual pixelated glasses. I just… stand there. Perplexed. Confused. Unable to accept what I’m looking at, refusing to believe that this is what my brain has concocted for me. It must be a hallucination. It has to be! There’s no way I’m MePhone4S! This is not real, I refuse to believe it.
I brush my teeth with denial. There is sadly no mouthwash, but I can deal with it. It’s probably a dream anyway.
Once I finish, I go back to the other phone in the room. Their screen is still black, so I assume they’re sleeping. But not for much longer.
I shake them awake, immediately realizing that I’ll have to say something to them once they wake up. I decide to shove them hard enough to justify my grunting, relieved that my voice is not the one being spoken through.
“Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuggggggggghhhhhhhhh………… five more minutessss..?” The blue machine groans.
Yep, that’s definitely 4.
Well, if I’m MePhone4S, and I’m dedicated to staying that way, I might as well act like him.
“NO!” I scream as I slap my supposed brother across his flat face, making sure to mimic every bit of my host’s Austrian accent. “WAKE UP!“
“Okay! Okay! I’m on it!” MePhone4 immediately sits up, but after that, it feels like an eternity until he actually gets out of bed. If it weren’t for 4S being an early riser, I would be just like MePhone.
Once he does get out of bed, he goes to brush his teeth, and after that we both go down to the dining hall for breakfast.
Breakfast isn’t bad. It’s bacon, eggs and a fruit cup, which is nice, but it makes me wonder what 4S would eat. Not that anyone’s looking. I decide to finish the bacon first, assuming that’s what 4S would like, then go for the eggs and an orange slice.
“Feeling adventurous, huh 4S?” OJ says. I assume he means about the fruit, and a thought quickly enters my mind.
“What if I drink OJ?”
I quickly shove it down, as it’s way too cruel to put into action. But then again, cruelty is 4S’s entire act…
“Oh, I’ll show you adventurous!” I say, reaching for the rim of OJ’s glass. I then pull down on him whilst pulling myself up, using my chair as a stool as I drink from him. He panics, obviously, screaming and shouting at me to stop. But I don’t, I just laugh and drink more of the delicious, refreshing citrus.
Others notice and pull OJ away from me- well, 4S, and 4S away from OJ.
“What were you thinking?!” Paper accuses, putting himself in front of OJ in a protective stance. The morning sun shines through the hotel manager, casting a colorful silhouette on the thin layer separating him from his attacker. I can see that he’s about half full as opposed to the roughly three quarters of drink in him before. “Did I really drink that much orange juice?” I think to myself, replaying the scene in my mind as I stare at the paper wall and the silhouette seemingly painted on it.
“I was eating an orange and wanted to know what the juice tasted like,” I justified, my host’s wrists held behind his back as if they were about to be encased in handcuffs. “Besides, it was hilarious.”
“You could have just asked me for some orange juice! You didn’t have to harass me for it!” The innkeeper accused.
“Oh, come on, you didn’t think that was funny? It was absolutely hilarious!”
“You’ve already said that, and no, it was not funny! You know how I feel when people try to drink me! I hate it!”
“Fiiiiine. I won’t do it anymore.”
“You better not!” OJ and his shield say in unison. After 4S’s wrists are freed, I grab his dirty dishes and pile them with everyone else’s. I then go to his room, although it takes a while because I have no clue where it is. Totally not suspicious.
Once I enter the room, I sit on 4S’s bed and think, grateful to be alone.
“How did I become 4S? Did I somehow get into his body? Can he hear my thoughts? If I am in his body, wouldn’t he be able to talk to me in my head? If so, why can’t I hear him? Am I a ghost? If I’m a ghost, I should be able to hear him, right? What if he hears any plans I have on how to hide myself? What if he’s rummaging around my mind right now, trying to collect as much information as possible? How long until the others find out? What if he tries to tell the others about today? But how could he if I’m controlling him? It’s not like I can’t control him, is he uncomfortable with what I’m doing with his body? Does he like it? Does he just not care? I guess the best thing to do is listen to his body, I’d hate for someone to never eat while possessing my body. Oh wait, he doesn’t need to eat. Oops. Forgot that. So what does he need? Does he even need anything?”
Thoughts like these swirl in my mind as I stare off into space, trying to find any fact that can help me make sense of my situation. All I know so far is that I woke up as MePhone4S, I am not supposed to be MePhone4S, and I control his every move whether I like it or not. I also know how he acts, which is good, but I can’t put up the same act forever.
“Sooner or later, people are going to know the truth. I just hope I can drag it out for as long as possible.”
I continue to think, forming hypotheses and escape plans as I stare at the same corner of the bed for what feels like forever. Eventually, the door opens and I’m forced to return to reality.
“Hey, 4S, are you okay? You’ve been in here for over an hour,” the voice asks, caring and comforting. It’s OJ, peeking through the crack between the door and the door frame. I guess he thinks I feel guilty or something. But hey, at least he’s full again.
“I’m fine, it’s just been a weird day for me,” I answer. It has been, and I can’t think of a good lie to give, so I decide to twist the truth instead. “I woke up, and for some reason I feel like a completely different person.” MePhone4S is probably mad at me now. “I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to say, even eating breakfast felt weird. Like everyone was watching me. I’m trying to be myself but I don’t know what ‘myself’ is, I’m super aware of everyone around me and I even had a hard time finding my room.”
There, that should do it. Hate me if you want, 4S, but at least I’m not overly suspicious.
“I get what you mean, 4S. You feel like every mistake you make is somehow going to bite back at you later on. But I’m telling you now, that’s not true. You don’t have to be so scared. Nobody’s going to hate you just because you don’t know where your room is. Nobody’s going to give you a weird look just because you’re eating breakfast. I’m telling you, 4S, that won’t happen.” His words are comforting, just what I need, like a verbal massage. Except he doesn’t know that I’m not 4S, and he doesn’t know that I’m scared of telling him that. So I just accept the advice. At least now if I act weird, I’ll have an alibi, right? Except maybe not, because this alibi is the busiest person in this hotel. I figure I might be able to tell him, but just when I muster up the courage, the glass of liquid asks me another question.
“Also, why did you drink me? Please don’t tell me it was because of anxiety, because I know that’s not the only reason.”
This time, he seems upset. Rightfully. That was probably his blood I drank, and if it was, he was probably lightheaded and weak after I did so. But dang it, why does it have to taste so delicious? I’m sorry, but I haven’t tasted orange juice that good in my entire life. It’s like he had a bag of oranges sitting next to his bed and squeezed them into his glass when he woke up, making sure to add perfect little ice cubes to keep it cold.
“MePhone4S. Why’d you do it?” OJ asks again, his voice stern this time. Right. The question. And… my controlling 4S. I think about telling him again, but decide against it because he’d probably hate me for quite a while if I do tell him. And if I don’t… why didn’t I tell him before? Not to mention the crazy things the rest of the hotel might do to me. Test tube and her science experiments, Candle and her mind reading… yikes. I better keep myself a secret.
“I wanted to cause some mischief,” I say, “along with being anxious.” Oh great, mischief. A word 4S would have probably never used in his entire life. Oh well, too late now. I just hope 4S is enough of a jerk for OJ to at least keep from questioning my explanation.
“Okay then,” OJ sighs. Sweet, he bought it. At least I think. For now. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.” And with that, he leaves, politely closing the door behind him.
“CRAP. CRAP. CRAP. WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?!” I think to myself. “Come on, -”
Wait. I don’t know my name.
WHAT THE..?! I DONT KNOW MY NAME..? WELL, WHAT AM I? I’M MEPHONE4S, RIGHT?
Wait a minute. I expected to be something else when I woke up.
Okay. With that knowledge, I close my eyes and try to picture my body. Sight through the top of my head, a thin, rectangular shape encased in glass and rubber, and…
Nope. Just MePhone4S. Of course. But, I still remember myself expecting to be rectangular and encased in something. How many objects fit that description?
I think of as many possibilities as I can but fail to find anything familiar. I try to include other details, but they’ve all slipped my mind. I might as well go outside. It is almost 9:00, after all.
Wait, I have an internal clock! That’s so cool! Well, technically 4S has an internal clock, which makes sense since he’s a smartphone. But nonetheless, I go outside to… I don’t know, do stuff?
I make my way to the main level to find nothing but chatter. To my right is a very frantic Soap trying to explain something while grabbing dirty dishes. To my far left are Knife and Pickle talking to each other, smashing buttons on a controller while studying a screen in front of them. Far in front of me is MePhone4, a light sadness coated on his face as he converses with the Floor, who raises an eyebrow as he responds to the cellular device.
I think of what MePhone4S would do in this situation. Either he would hang out with Knife and Pickle, he would hang out with nobody, or he would try to harass someone. Why not do two of those things at once?
I walk toward the two game players with a neutral face and watch at the screen. It appears as though one of them is about to win when the other attacks them from behind.
“Argh!” Knife exclaims. “That’s the third time in a row! How are you so good at this?!”
“I think the real question is, how are you so bad at this?” Pickle says smugly.
This makes Knife laugh. “Bad. Really. You think this is the best I can do?”
“It’s worse than 4S. Isn’t that right?” Pickle asks, turning his gaze to my host.
“Oh, when I’m done with you, there will be nothing left but tears,” I say as I accept Pickle’s challenge. I win the first match easily, but it’s easy to see when Pickle changes his strategy in the second round. He beats me.
“What was that about tears?” Pickle taunts.
“Oh, I’ll show you tears! One more round?”
“Let’s do it.”
It’s hard, and it takes a while, but in the end, I press a wrong button and give Pickle the opportunity to shoot me down.
“Wha-?! Oh, come on! That was a misclick!” I say, half-complaining half-excusing myself. “Knife, you saw that, right?”
“Cry about it,” Pickle interjects.
“What was that about tears?” Knife asks, mimicking the same tone that Pickle used when he said that same sentence.
With an angry expression, I look at Knife and Pickle, their smug faces almost impossible not to laugh at. Instead I sigh, maintaining a somewhat sour expression as I do so. “Good game,” I say before walking away. I can hear the two explode in laughter once I am seemingly out of earshot.
Morning turns into afternoon, afternoon into evening, and evening into night as I socialize with others, cause their misfortunes, and periodically isolate to try and figure out what in the world is going on. As I drift off to sleep, a swarm of confusion occupies my mind as the body I inhabit feels lighter by the second. With each moment that passes, my consciousness slips further away from me as I fall asleep. I don’t remember anything else when I wake up, except for this one fact:
This is not the body I inhabited yesterday.