“Oh my gosh, talk about waiting until the last minute!” Clara says, as her friend ushers her inside her apartment. “When does the party start, in like three hours?”
“I know!” Maeve replies, leading her down the hall. “I had my eye on the delivery status all fucking morning. I must have hit refresh a hundred times.”
The two young women enter Maeve’s bedroom, and Clara immediately notices a large cardboard box on the bed. Her heart skips a beat thinking of its contents and, as if reading her mind, her friend retrieves a pair of scissors from her desk, and holds them out in her hand.
“Want to do the honors?” she asks, with a grin.
Clara shakes her head. “No, that’s okay. This was your idea, after all…”
Maeve’s smile widens, and she quickly ties her hair back into a ponytail. Then, she approaches her bed, and carefully runs the blade down the middle of the box, breaking the seal. She opens the box, and begins handfuls of packing peanuts to the floor.
After just a few moments, she gasps, and her hand flies to her mouth.
Clara moves forward, leans past her startled friend, and gazes into the box.
“Holy shit…” she mutters.
The two girls glance at each other, then reach their hands inside the box.
A minute later, they’re both standing, giggling, staring at the two unsettling items now sitting on Maeve’s dresser.
Flawless, hollow replicas of their own faces stare back at them lifelessly, with parted lips and blank eyes. The prosthetic flesh is painted impeccably, recreating all of their personal features in the most intimate detail. Even each strand of their hair looks to be painstakingly inserted into the fake scalps.
“I can’t believe this really worked” Maeve squeals, reaching out and touching the facsimile her own long, dark hair. Her fingers graze the soft, pale skin of the mask, and she draws back, shivering at the touch. “Fuck, it feels so real!”
With wide eyes, Clara flicks the copy of her own bouncy, blonde locks. While Maeve’s hair spills across the wooden counter top, hers is shorter, and would just barely touch one’s shoulders when worn.
Worn, she thinks, and a shiver runs down her spine. She prods the mask’s soft, pink lips and suddenly, their ‘fun little prank’ seems frighteningly real.
It had begun almost a month before, with a harmless question:
“What if we went as each other?” Maeve had asked, with a twinkle in her eye.
Clara laughed. “That could be pretty fun I guess!” she’d replied. “I could wear your costume, and you could wear mine…maybe we can even get wigs?”
Her friend had just shaken her head. “You’re thinking too small, honey. Look at this” she said, turning her laptop around.
Clara had initially been confused. “What’s Lyfelike…?”
Swiping at the screen, her question was quickly answered. Apparently, Maeve had found some kind of special effects company that was advertising for the upcoming holiday. But they didn’t make the kinds of costumes she was familiar with. Far from it.
Clara recalls the first video she’s watched, of a totally normal-looking, middle-aged woman pulling her entire head off to reveal a grinning, young brunette. The imposter held the hollow face up proudly, unveiling it as some kind of hyper-realistic mask.
Seeing the shocked look on her face, Maeve had innocently commented, “Their website says they do custom projects…”
And, from that moment, they were both completely sold.
Back in the present, Maeve once again sees the astonishment – but now, slight uncertainty - in her best friend’s eyes. Grinning, she reaches out and pokes her mask’s chin with her finger.
“What’s the matter, Clara? Do you not want to wear me anymore?” she teases, prodding the flimsy skin.
“Stop it!” Clara gasps. “That’s so eerie…”
She looks back and forth between the empty husk and the real Maeve, still dumbfounded by how completely identical they appear. If not for the fact that she could see right through the mask’s eyes, nostrils and mouth, there was no way she’d be able to tell them apart.
“Oh, don’t be so serious!” Maeve replies. “This is going to be fucking awesome. We’ll put these on and see how many people we can fool, then – towards the end of the party…”
She makes an exaggerated motion of someone unmasking, like one would see in the movies.
“Ta-da! It’s me, Maeve!”
Clara laughs. “How dramatic. You really think we’ll be able to fool Jack and Luke?” she asks, referring to their boyfriends.
Maeve looks at her with a twinkle in her eyes. “We’ll find out…” she replies. “Come on, we both watched the how-to videos. I say we put them on at the same time!”
The blonde’s gaze shifts back to the mask of Maeve. Holy shit, this is really happening. I’m going to…become her.
“Okay, that sounds good!” she chirps, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice.
Why am I so fucking anxious? Clara asks herself. It’s just a fancy Halloween mask…
In no time, both girls – now each wearing a black wig cap – are rubbing tubes of clear adhesive all over their faces. As was shown in the videos, they take care to cover every portion, including their lips – and even their eyebrows.
“Ready?” Maeve asks.
Clara nods. “Oh, yeah. Let’s do this.”
They turn towards the dresser, and reach their hands out to grab their prizes. Clara’s fingers grasp the Maeve mask’s silky dark mane, gently lifting it from its stand. Its eye sockets and lips stretch just a little, straining lightly against the foam underneath.
Now unsupported, the prosthetic face folds in the middle, and its forehead crumples over its flimsy nose and cheeks. She has to brush strands of hair out of the way to expose the open neck, which she then slides her hands up and into. Its features are somewhat straightened out, and Maeve’s vacant face quivers as it is jostled.
She looks over at her friend, and sees her own face in a disturbingly similar condition. It gazes lifelessly at the floor, with its lips puckered together and hollow cheeks quivering.
“Count of three?”
Clara nods again.
“One…two…” they say together. “Three!”
Clara stretches the mask open and lifts it up, ducking inside and pulling it down over her head in one swift motion.
She immediately experiences a strange sensation, akin to smooth rubber sliding over her skin. She can feel a tight squeezing as her fingers tug on the pliable material, and the tickle of hair as it dances about her shoulders. Feeling slightly claustrophobic, she takes a deep breath then exhales, and her hot breath fills the inside of the mask.
Continuing the pull, Clara flinches when its chin and nose pop into position, then shudders when a pair of soft, fluffy lips envelope her own, slipping into her mouth.
Clara peeks with one eye, and gasps when she sees the replica of her own face stretching to welcome its new owner. At the moment, her mouth is grossly distorted, apparently caught on Maeve’s nose. But then the other girl gives a quick tug, and her upper lip snaps down in place.
She closes her eyes again and – satisfied that her new face is mostly in position – begins prodding it with her fingers, making small adjustments to the fit. The mask’s eye sockets snug around hers, gently pulling them into a more elongated shape.
“Okay, I think I’ve got it all the way on” she hears Maeve say.
“Me too!” she replies, running her tongue over her new, slightly more swollen lips.
She opens her eyes and, for a very brief moment, she feels a little confused. It’s as if she’s simply looking at mildly surprised version herself in the mirror. But then, her “reflection” gasps and covers her mouth, and the reality hits her like a punch in the stomach.
“Holy fuck!” she watches herself say, in a strangely incongruous voice.
Clara snaps her head around towards Maeve’s dresser, and her eyes widen in shock when she sees her best friend staring back at her. She touches her masked cheek, rubbing her new face in amazement.
“I’m really you!” she marvels, pulling at a lock of Maeve’s long, wavy hair. She feels a light tugging on her scalp, as the strong adhesive holds the mask in place.
She looks on as her friend plays around with her new face in a similar manner, and it’s as if she’s watching herself be used like a puppet. If it were anyone else but Maeve, she’d be terrified that someone else could so easily take over her identity with such a remarkably lifelike replica. The thought of some nefarious person being able to pose as her – with no one the wiser – sends a shiver down her spine.
“Awesome…” The new Clara turns to her friend excitedly and extends her hand, cupping the other girls throat gently. Her other hand finds the same spot on her own neck, and she says “Well, let’s see if these things work as advertised!”
The masked Clara feels a squeeze, then a mild tingle, which quickly dissipates.
“Testing, testing- ” she hums, then she bursts out into a fit of snickering, because the voice now coming from her lips is unmistakably Maeve’s.
“Like, oh my gosh, this is so freaky!” the phony Clara giggles, in her borrowed tone.
The dark-haired imposter hits her lightly on the shoulder. “That is not how I talk, Maeve! You’re making me sound like an airhead!” she laughs.
The other girl twirls a lock of hair between her fingers. “Maeve? You’re so silly. I’m Clara!”
The phony Maeve rolls her eyes. “Oh, very fucking funny. I guess I’ll just fucking pretend to go along with your little fucking act…”
That causes the blonde to burst out laughing. “I do not swear that much!” she insists. She then gives her friend one of her classic, mischievous smiles, which looks so different on Clara’s delicate face.
The masked Clara grins back at her, then retrieves two garment bags from the closet. “Well, come on then, Clara. We don’t want to be late.”
“You know, if you’re going to be me, you should learn to relax a little!” the other girl retorts, accepting the bag.
“Yeah, yeah…” Maeve hears herself say.
The new Clara unzips her bag to reveal a familiar-looking white-and-black hooded jumpsuit, with pink accents featuring bright blue webbing. She holds it up in front of her, grinning widely.
“Here comes Spider-Gwen!” she bubbles, tugging on the stretchy fabric. “Your hair is going to look so good with this.”
“Thanks!” the new Maeve replies. “I’m excited to see it on you. I mean…me.”
She opens up her own bag, pulling out a less-recognizable costume. A, long-sleeved, floor-length black dress spills onto the mattress. It has a plunging, lacy neckline, a string of buttons up the front of its chest, and an attached hood. The fabric itself is exquisitely detailed, with a vintage pattern and two decorative gold inlays on the front of its shoulders.
“Where did you even get this?” she asks her imposter.
“Online! Isn’t it cool?”
“It’s a little ominous…” the fake Maeve mumbles. But then, she sees the look on her friend’s face, and her frown turns into an eager smile. “I mean, I can’t wait to wear it! She’s so fucking cool. One of the best, um, characters in the game…for sure.”
The phony Clara laughs. “Nice save.” She points to the open package and adds “Oh, hey, I bought you a couple more things. Surprise…”
Raising one of Maeve’s dark, neatly trimmed eyebrows, the disguised Clara drops her costume and digs around inside the box, until her fingers make contact with a soft, squishy item.
She lifts it out, and her eyes widen when she gazes at what appears to be a hollow replica of a woman’s naked upper torso, complete with fully lifelike breasts.
“What the…” she mutters, prodding the fleshy material.
Clara giggles. “Well, it wouldn’t make sense for me to suddenly go down a cup size, would it?”
“But…why does it have nipples…?”
Her double grins. “Call it realism. Besides, they weren’t much extra. Check it out, there’s one more thing.”
The phony Maeve sets the item down and reaches back inside the package, finally pulling out a pair of padded shorts. She blushes underneath her mask when she sees that it is similarly realistic, with intricate folds tucked between its soft thighs.
“And now you can have these curves, too!” the other imposter jokes, placing a hand on her hip.
“Oh, wonderful. Cover me head-to-toe, why don’t you!” the masked Clara chuckles. “And what about you?”
Her twin shrugs. “I’ll just say this costume has some padding. She’s a little thick in the comics, right? We’ll just go with that…”
The two girls laugh, then proceed to put on their costumes. The new Maeve has the added steps of tugging on the floppy, rubbery torso and thigh prosthetics, which transform her body into a more curvaceous shape, exactly matching that of her friend.
She aligns the fake breasts over hers, marveling at the way the tapered edges blend seamlessly with her own skin. It must have some kind of adhesive already applied, because it takes some effort to lift up the seams, once they’ve been smoothed down.
“Ooh, looking good, girlfriend!” the phony Clara jokes.
Maeve makes a sarcastic attempt at covering herself with her hands. “Clara!” she scoffs. “Can’t a girl have some privacy?”
She sees that the other girl has already put on her costume, and is working on pulling the zipper up her back. With her slightly paler skin now completely covered up, she really does look every bit like the real Clara. The tight jumpsuit even squeezes her chest and butt, giving her a strong physical resemblance. And, as she said, the rest could be explained by some well-placed padding.
She fluffs out her new, shorter blonde hair, then pulls the outfit’s hood up over her head. She strikes an action pose and asks “So, how do I look!” in Clara’s melodious voice.
The phony, topless Maeve can’t help but laugh incredulously. “Oh my God…wow. I’m sorry I ever doubted this. The guys aren’t going to have a fucking clue!”
Her doppelganger grins wickedly.
“I know, right?!” she replies. “I was thinking I would be able to give Luke so much shit for thinking that you’re me, but now I’m not sure if I can blame him!”
Incredible, the real Clara thinks. No one is going to be able to tell that isn’t really me…
A minute later, after pulling on and adjusting the silky black fabric, she positions the plunging neckline over her new, larger breasts, pleased to find that the dress has built-in support.
“Damn, do I pull that look off!” the masked Maeve chuckles, helping her twin smooth out her costume.
It’s true, her imposter thinks, looking over at her reflection. Her pale skin contrasts very nicely with the dark fabric, and her own raven hair. She completes the ensemble with a pair of leather gloves, a black lacy choker, and a necklace with several small, menacing-looking ornaments.
“One last touch!” the blonde chirps, reaching into the costume bag. She pulls out a square strip of paper and peels away the backing. “I made sure that this would adhere to the mask just like real skin. Hold still…”
The fake Maeve tries not to flinch as she presses the clear film to her forehead, holding it there for a thirty-second count. Then, carefully, she peels it away, leaving behind an intricate black flower tattoo.
“Looking good…Cassandra” the phony Clara hums, admiring her creation.
Maeve pulls the dark hood up over head, and adopts a stern, confident expression. “Thank you, darling” she purrs, licking her pouty, dark-painted lips.
“Ooh, that’s my girl” her friend approves, enjoying watching her get into character.
Clara walks over to her and hugs her from behind, resting her chin on her shoulder as the two masked girls gaze at their reflections in the mirror.
“I’ve got one more little surprise for you” she says, lifting her hand to cup the other girl’s neck once more.
“Aw, you’re not tired of hearing your own voice already, are you?” her imposter teases.
The fake blonde squeezes twice in rapid succession, and the disguised Clara feels the familiar tingle on the outside of her larynx.
“Why’d you do it- ” Maeve begins, before her own hand reaches for her throat. “Oh, shit!”
The voice now coming from her mouth is an impeccable copy of the fictional, terrifying Cassandra Dimitrescu. It is harsh and wicked, yet still has an undeniably sensual, almost velvety quality.
Composing herself, she gazes at the smiling Clara and crows “Tonight’s dinner is gonna be fun!”
She tosses her head back and lets out a long, evil-sounding laugh.
Even the disguised Maeve appears surprised by the impromptu performance, and she gives an exaggerated shudder.
“Ooh, creepy!” she says. “And you really learned her lines!”
She gives her friend a hug and kiss, squealing with excitement. The masked Clara feels her own soft lips squishing against her masked cheek.
“Of course, it’s my costume” the new Maeve replies in her altered voice, with a wicked grin. “Now, shall we leave for the party? We wouldn’t want to keep our boyfriends waiting…”
ONE HOUR LATER
“Another drink, babe?” the young man dressed as Batman asks the costumed girl standing next to him. When she doesn’t reply, he waves his hand in front of her face. “Babe?”
That seems to snap her out of it. “Oh, sorry!” Maeve apologizes. “I…thought I saw someone I knew.”
Inwardly, she chides herself for the lapse in focus. In truth, she’d caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror next to the staircase, and had been momentarily transfixed by her dark-haired reflection.
“No worries!” Luke assures her, handing a beer to the person he believes to be his girlfriend. “Where’d Clara and Jack go?”
Even such an innocent question causes butterflies to flutter in the imposter’s stomach.
“Um…I think they just went to say hi to some people Clara knows from work” she replies, taking a sip of her drink.
She’d better be keeping the conversation very non-specific, she can’t help but worry. On the way over to the party, they’d both gone over some final, basic details to help them keep up the ruse as long as possible. But still…they couldn’t account for everything.
Luke smiles. “Oh, Clara, always working…” he jokes.
Maeve smiles back at him and nods. Okay, that’s fair, the girl wearing her face admits.
Just then, Clara and her boyfriend break through the crowd, accompanied by another couple.
“There you are!” the blonde cheerfully greets them.
“Hey Maeve! Hey Luke!” Jack says, smiling and gesturing to them with his red plastic cup. In costume like all the others, he’s wearing a surprisingly formal outfit consisting of a light grey three-piece suit, black tie, and matching cap.
The disguised Clara feels her heart flutter. He really has no idea I’m standing right here, she thinks. Glancing down, she sees that he’s holding her twin’s hand in his. Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be…
“Hey, Jack!” She replies, bizarrely addressing her own boyfriend with someone else’s voice. “Peaky Blinders, right?”
“Yeah, good eye!” he confirms.
Well, it helps that I helped you put the costume together, Clara thinks, from behind Maeve’s smiling prosthetic face.
“Maeve, you remember my coworker Stacy, right?” the phony Clara continues. “I think you met at my birthday party last year. And this is her boyfriend, Steve.”
Good memory, honey, the fake Maeve muses.
“Oh, of course!” she replies, sticking out her gloved hand. “It’s so nice to see you again.”
Smiling, Stacy unwittingly shakes hands with a girl she sees almost every day.
God, this is so exhilarating, the real Clara thinks. Everyone is completely fooled. She looks over at her doppelganger, and when she sees a playful twinkle in her own deep blue eyes, she knows the disguised Maeve is thinking the exact same thing.
“You, too!” Stacy chirps. “And, wow, I love your costume. Babe, didn’t you play that game?” She asks her boyfriend.
“Yeah!” he agrees. “You really nailed it!”
“Thank you!” Maeve beams, doing a quick curtsy. “I wasn’t sure if people would recognize it.”
“Are you kidding? That chick scared the shit out of me far too many times for me to forget her” Steve insists, eliciting a laugh from the group. His eyes flick down almost imperceptibly to the phony Maeve’s pale chest, pushed up enticingly by her tight, lacy bust.
Naughty boy, she thinks, with a suppressed smile.
“Ooh, show them the trick!” Clara says, pointing to her own neck.
Luke raises an eyebrow. “What trick, babe?”
Grinning mischievously, Maeve cups her throat and squeezes twice, feeling the familiar electric buzz. She softly clears her throat, then looks around at the others, as if appraising them carefully.
“Your blood will be the centerpiece for our party!” she snarls, in the sadistic vampire’s maniacal voice. Then, she lets out one of Cassandra’s loud, bloodcurdling laughs.
Everyone else besides Clara gasps in surprise.
“Holy shit!” Luke exclaims. “How did you do that?!”
“Oh, you got one of those new voice changers, didn’t you!” Stacy guesses, excitedly.
“Uh-huh” Maeve replies, nodding her head. “I found it online!”
It’s a little funny to her, hearing such a benign explanation voiced by the evil Cassandra. She turns to see Luke examining her neck, and briefly panics.
Chill, Clara, she assures herself. He’s not going to spot anything wrong just by looking closely…
“Is it part of your necklace?” he asks, nudging the lacy black choker.
Maeve laughs, sounding far more vicious than she intends to.
“No, it’s actually pressed up against my neck underneath a thin strip of fake skin” she explains, admitting a partial truth.
Along with the rest of your girlfriend’s face, she doesn’t add.
“So cool!” Stacy says.
“Do another line!” Clara implores her, clearly reveling in the overt deception.
Maeve adopts her most malicious-looking expression, lowering her hooded head so her bright yellow eyes are barely peeking out from under it.
"I was worried my sisters had gotten to you first…” she sneers, licking her lips threateningly.
“Whoa…” Steve murmurs, before looking over at Luke. “I wouldn’t piss her off tonight if I were you, man!”
The group laughs again, and Luke wraps his arm around the smiling Maeve. He doesn’t notice her stiffen ever so slightly, which she covers up by taking another swig of beer. Being pressed up against him, she can smell the scent of his unfamiliar cologne.
“I’ll try to keep her happy!” Luke chuckles.
Holy shit, even this close he still doesn’t know I’m not really Maeve.
She looks up at Clara and sees that the other girl is staring right at her, with the hint of a small, wicked smile on her face.
Oh, are you enjoying this, too? The fake Maeve wonders.
She looks up at her “boyfriend” and pokes him in the chest, teasing him. “You’d better. I haven’t cut open a man in a while…”
“Ooh, is that so?” Luke retorts, playfully squeezing her slim waist.
Uh oh, the masked Clara thinks, shooting another look over at her twin. But instead of looking mad or jealous, the other Clara stares at her with widened eyes, as if she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing.
Cassandra cups her throat and squeezes again – twice, carefully.
“Okay, that’s enough of that” she says, back to using Maeve’s normal voice. “For now…”
While the others assume she’s turned off the voice changer, she knows it’s merely on another setting.
Grinning, Clara lets go of Jack’s hand, and grabs Maeve’s.
“Come on!” she proclaims. “Who wants to dance?”
They all nod their heads in agreement, and the real Clara then has the rather unusual experience of being led by herself out onto the makeshift dance floor.
The party begins to pass by in a blur, fueled by a mix of alcohol and the steady beat of music. They dance for a while and, at first, it doesn’t seem that weird to be dancing with Luke. After all, they’d all been friends for quite some time. But then, his hands begin roaming along her padded form, subtly squeezing and teasing her in all the right places.
She looks over at Maeve, encased inside her own body, gyrating her hips with the rhythm. Jack also appears to be enjoying the feel of her costume, as his fingers slide up and down her jumpsuit-covered form. Nobody even seemed to notice Clara was a little bustier than usual, or that her thighs were just a touch thicker. Maybe it was too dark to tell…or maybe the difference wasn’t big enough for even her boyfriend to detect.
At one point, Jack and Luke go to fetch some more beers, and the two masked girls are left alone on the dance floor.
“You look like you’re having fun” the fake Clara teases, playfully lifting an eyebrow.
“Maeve, no one can tell!” the real Clara replies, a little too loudly.
“Shh!” the blonde chides, giggling and swatting her arm. “Only if you don’t blow it!”
It’s such a strange thing for Clara, to be admonished by someone with her face, and her voice.
“So” the dark-haired imposter continues, more quietly. “When are we going to tell them?”
“Oh…soon” her friend says, with a twinkle in her eyes.
Later on, after several more drinks, they find themselves in the living room, playing a game of beer pong. Never one to shrink from a little friendly competition, Maeve lifts her hand in front of her face and focuses intently on the last cup remaining in front of her.
She pulls her arm back and then lets it fly, yelling with delight when the small white ball lands inside the mark. She turns and hugs Luke, then presses on her neck to deliver a victorious taunt.
“I’ll mount your heads on my wall!” she cackles in Cassandra’s voice, tossing her head back to unleash another sinister laugh.
“Oh, don’t be a sore loser, Maeve” Clara admonishes, but she can’t help but smile.
“Come on, we have winners!” Stacy calls out, beginning to move the cups back into formation.
Mid-way into the next game, the disguised Clara notices that Jack and her twin still haven’t returned.
“Where do you think they are?” she asks Luke, after sinking another shot.
He laughs. “Oh, you saw the way they were on the dance floor. They’re probably off getting frisky somewhere…”
Her eyes widen. No, Maeve wouldn’t do that, she assures herself. But still, the idea of her best friend wearing her face and getting…intimate, causes her to unexpectedly bite her lip.
What the fuck is wrong with me? She wonders, subtly shaking her head.
The phony Maeve glances over at her boyfriend, and the look she sees in his eyes only makes the feeling worse. As if reading her mind, he leans over, and she can feel his warm breath on her neck as he whispers into her ear.
“You look so fucking hot in that costume, babe.”
Oh, fuck, she thinks. Before she can react, he moves forward, and presses his lips to hers. The sensation is only slightly dulled by the puffy material of the mask, and she lets out a low, involuntary moan in Maeve’s silky voice.
“Well if you two had acted like that in the last game, we might have won.”
The masked Clara breaks off the kiss and turns at the sound of her own teasing voice. Sure enough, her doppelganger is standing right there with her arms crossed in amusement, and her hip cocked to the side.
“U-uh…hey, Clara…” she falters. Oh, no, what the fuck was I just thinking?
Her twin grins, and plucks the ping pong ball out of Luke’s hand. She looks back at Jack and says “Would you two mind getting us some more drinks? I’ll fill in for you while you’re gone…”
Luke nods at the fake Clara, still without a clue that she’s really his girlfriend in disguise. She takes his place next to Maeve, and proceeds to line up her next shot. It sinks down into a cup at the front of the triangle, and she lets out a happy squeal. But when the dark-haired girl tosses hers, it deflects off of the rim and bounces off the table.
She uses the distraction to covertly whisper to her friend. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! He just kissed me with, like, no warning!”
Clara just laughs sweetly. “Don’t be silly, dear! You don’t need to apologize for kissing your boyfriend.”
The phony Maeve sees the wicked look in the other girl’s eyes, and can tell that she’s already planning her revenge.
Sure enough, when the guys return, Spider-Gwen accepts a cup from Jack with a grateful smile.
“Thanks, babe!” she hums. Then, she leans forward and plants a big kiss on his lips with a loud, melodramatic “MWAH!”
Oh, you bitch, the real Clara thinks, though part of her wants to smile. Feeling nicely loosened up by the effects of the alcohol, she takes another sip of her drink and squeezes her pale neck again.
“Thank you, darling” she purrs, in the seductive vampire’s low, breathy voice. “My throat was getting so DRY…”
She traces a fingertip down the front of Luke’s chest, gazing up at him with fluttering dark eyelashes.
“Let’s let them finish their game, Jack!” Clara quickly chirps, drawing attention away from the flirtatious display. She grabs her boyfriend’s hand and guides him to the couch, but instead of sitting down next to him, she drops herself right onto his lap.
“Can you tell that this costume has some extra padding?” the blonde continues. “It’s actually super comfortable.”
She wiggles her hips, and Maeve’s eyes narrow subtly when she sees Jack shift in his seat. She barely notices when a ball plops down into a cup right next to her, and has to consciously pull her eyes away from the sight of herself giving Jack a low-key lap dance.
“Mmm, I don’t know if I can say the same” she says, almost forgetting she’s still using Cassandra’s voice. “This thing is awfully tight…”
She turns to Luke and fidgets with the front of her dress, tugging on the material to “unintentionally” push up her cleavage even more. His eyes widen, and he doesn’t even flinch when a little while ball glances off of his arm.
Maeve looks up to see her boyfriend staring down at her chest, and she smiles.
“Oh, don’t be a boring man-thing” she teases, biting her lower lip.
It continues like that for the rest of the game, with the disguised girls trying to covertly out-do each other. At one point, the blonde wraps her arms around Jack’s neck and whispers something into his ear, while making eye contact with Maeve. It doesn’t take a genius to infer the gist of what was said, and Clara breaks out into a fit of giggling when Jack squeezes her spandex-covered thigh.
In response, Maeve leans against Luke for support, as if she’s feeling unsteady on her feet. Which, to be fair, doesn’t take very much acting on her part.
With a slight slur in her double-modified voice, she bites her lip, then says another one of her lines.
“Mother said stale but I think you're delicious…”
Luke seems to take that as an invitation, and he slides his hand down her back. He cups her rounded backside in his palm, and even through her disguise’s padding, she can still feel his fingers squeezing her.
“Do you two need a room, or can we keep playing?” Stacy jokes, pointing to the cups in front of them.
“Oh, sorry” the phony Maeve replies, and the girl wearing her face blushes underneath her mask.
They continue their game, but something strange starts to happen for the disguised Clara. Maybe it’s the tipsiness she feels from the alcohol, or the fact that she’s spent the entire night encased inside her best friend’s body, fooling everyone she meets. Or, most likely, it’s a mixture of both.
She looks over and sees herself turning her head away from Jack, giggling and making some in-character excuse about having “Miles waiting at home” to thwart his attempt at kissing her. At that same moment, a shiny silver balloon hanging over the couch spins, presenting her with a glimpse at her own reflection. She brushes a strand of dark hair behind her ear, and watches as Maeve mimics her every move.
I am her…and she is me. The notion sends a sharp pang of exhilaration through her, and she finds herself plunging all the way into her adopted persona.
The two disguised girls make eye contact, and the phony Maeve bites her lip, giving her friend the subtlest of nods.
The other Clara smirks in reply, and turns back towards her boyfriend.
“Well” she says “I guess I can’t resist a sharply-dressed man like you…”
With her arms still around his neck, she pulls his head towards her, and their lips meet in a long, drawn-out kiss.
Maeve barely notices Steve sink the final shot of the game, as he and Stacy burst out into celebration.
“Aw, better luck next time, babe” Luke says with a smile.
She looks up at him with a newfound sense of intimacy, and gives him a tender kiss on the cheek.
“Mmhmm” she purrs, pressing herself against him. With butterflies fluttering in her stomach, she adds “Your Cassandra needs to freshen up after all that. Don’t you move…”
She gives him another peck, then, on her way out of the room, she touches her hand to Clara’s shoulder. “Think you can take a break from your little teenage make out session, hun?” she teases. “I could use some help with my makeup.”
The blonde disengages her lips from her boyfriend and grins up at her from the couch. “Sure thing” she replies. She looks at Jack with a stern expression and points to him with a gloved finger. “You stay right there, too.” She presses on his nose the way the real Clara would, then stands up from the couch.
The two girls make their way to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind them. Maeve pulls a stick of eyeliner out of her purse, while Clara pulls her costume’s hood off her head, freeing her light blonde mane.
“Wow, it was getting warm under that…” she says. With a twinkle in her eye, she adds “…among other things.”
Maeve smiles and nods. “I know what you mean” she agrees, touching her soft cheek. It has the same pale shade she’d grown used to, but she knows that the girl underneath is flushed red from all the excitement.
Clara helps her apply some extra red hue around her mouth, reproducing the fictional vampire’s chilling appearance. Due to her inebriated state, her hand slips a couple of times, causing her to giggle. Thankfully, it isn’t an exercise in precision, and her mistakes actually improve the look.
“So…” Maeve murmurs. “When are we gonna tell them?”
Clara bites her lip. “Well…about that” she replies, dropping the makeup back in her purse. “What if we….don’t?”
The dark-haired girl feels her heart skip a beat. Are we really going to do this?
“I-I guess…” she hesitates for a moment. But then, she gazes into the eyes of the perfect copy of herself, and knows that her friend is seeing and feeling all the same things.
“Okay.” She whispers, with her head swimming.
Clara gives her a drunken smirk. “So, whatever happens, we…”
“…don’t talk about it.” Maeve finishes, turning to appraise herself in the mirror.
The two girls put some final retouches on their appearances, then collect their things.
“Come on, Clara, we don’t want to keep our boyfriends waiting” Maeve hums with a smile, taking her friend by the hand.
“Oh, Maeve, trust me” the blonde replies. “They aren’t going anywhere…”
Half an hour later, with the party wrapping up, the three couples are standing in the kitchen, joking around together.
“Hey, remember that time Dylan Harper asked you to prom in front of the entire cafeteria?” Clara giggles, teasing her friend.
“Oh, fuck…” Maeve replies, dropping her head into her hands. “I thought I was going to die…”
The group laughs, and Luke wraps his arm around her. “Don’t worry, babe, I’d never embarrass you like that” he assures her. “Hey, that reminds me, are you wearing those lacy panties I like under that costume?”
She hits him on the arm, feigning indignation. “Luke!”
As the group laughs again, the girl wearing her face thinks, Yes, I am, darling. And maybe you’ll get to see them later…
Jack lifts his arm to check his watch and turns to Clara. “Oh, wow, it’s almost one o’clock. Don’t you have to get up early for work?”
She pouts. “Aw, I guess so…” She turns to the others and says “This was so fun, guys. We should all hang out again soon!”
She looks around at each of them, but her eyes linger on Maeve for a second longer. She raises an eyebrow as if to say, last chance, hun.
But Maeve just leans over and gives her a big hug. “Text me tomorrow!” she chirps.
“I will!” the blonde replies, taking her boyfriend by the hand.
The couple leaves, and Stacy and Steve follow soon after, leaving Maeve and Luke nearly alone in the kitchen.
“So, are you going to take me home, too?” she says, fluttering her eyelashes.
He pulls her in front of him and leans in to kiss the side of her neck, whispering “Actually, I was thinking you and I could check out the rest of the house. Maybe…the upstairs?”
She looks up at her boyfriend and nods, with a look of hunger in her eyes. A minute later, they’re stumbling into one of the guest bedrooms, laughing to themselves. Luke closes the door and presses her against the wall, running his hands along her body. They begin to kiss passionately, and she lets out delighted little moans.
Slowly, her hand gravitates down between his legs, where she finds a very welcome bulge underneath his costume’s black spandex fabric.
“Mmm” she moans, squeezing him gently. Luke takes that as an invitation to reach down and pull her long, black dress up her legs, bunching it around her waist.
Maeve slips her hand inside his costume’s waistband, easily finding and wrapping her hand around his rapidly stiffening member.
“Fuck…” he groans, tugging her underwear down her legs. He looks at her lustfully and whispers. “Do…do you think you can turn that voice thing on?”
She giggles sweetly and presses on her neck, then clears her throat. With Cassandra’s menacing-yet-sensual voice, she begins stroking him in earnest, and practically growls “Like that? Harder?”
He grunts in approval and lifts her up against the wall. She wraps her legs around him and, a moment later, she feels Luke ease himself inside her.
She lets out a sharp cry and bites her lip as be begins to thrust faster and harder, and doesn’t resist in the slightest when he loosens the strings of her corset and tugs the fabric down, exposing her bare chest.
The girl wearing Maeve glances down at her pale, bouncing breasts, delighted in the complete and utter realism of her disguise.
Her moans become desperate pants, and she lifts her hand to cup her throat again, squeezing twice.
“S-sorry…” she gasps. “It just…tingles…”
The lie hides the fact that the imposter longs to hear Maeve’s voice coming from her lips once more. The girl’s stolen cries fill the small room, and she hopes that the music downstairs is loud enough to hide them.
AT THE SAME TIME
Jack and Clara are outside of her apartment building, still sitting in his car.
“Oh, fuck, babe…” Jack groans, as the pretty blonde’s head bobs up and down in his lap. “Are you…unggh…are you sure you don’t want to come up?”
Clara moans happily, though the sound is muffled as her mouth remains full.
I just want this, she thinks to herself. Plus, I can’t let you get me out of this costume, can I? I only have your girlfriend’s face…
He wraps his fingers through her wavy mane and tugs on it gently. The imposter savors the way the strong adhesive holds the mask to her scalp, reminding her that she is so perfectly indistinguishable from the real Clara.
Her soft, puffy lips slide up and down his length rhythmically, leaving behind traces of pink lip gloss. Strands of someone else’s hair bounce around her face, driving her even more wild.
Jack leans back and closes his eyes in ecstasy. Something has really gotten into her tonight, he thinks. Little does he know, that ‘something’ is really ‘someone’.
“Clara…I…I’m gonna…” he pants, not realizing that even just hearing his girlfriend’s name spoken aloud is enough to make the costumed girl redouble her efforts.
She starts using her hand to massage him, while her mouth begins to make lewd, noisy slurping noises. Then, she feels his body go rigid, and she bottoms out onto him, pressing her nose into his abdomen.
“Fuuuckkkkkk…” he groans, the girl he thinks is Clara dutifully swallows every last drop.
After what feels like forever, she slowly lifts her mouth off of him, giggling happily. She wipes the wet corners of her mouth and purrs “Did you enjoy that?”
“Fuck. Yes.” He replies, stroking the side of her cheek. “That was…incredible.”
Clara smiles. “Good. I was getting so hot and bothered tonight, seeing you looking so handsome…” She runs her finger down his suited chest, then leans in to give him a tender kiss on the cheek.
“Well, thanks for the ride” she teases, giving him a playful wink.
Still catching his breath, he says, gesturing to her “Are you sure you don’t want me to…”
The blonde laughs. “Oh, I expect something special from you next time…”
He grins. “You know I’m good for it, babe.”
She kisses him again, then gets out of the car and closes the door behind her. On the way into her building, she catches a glimpse of her own reflection in a window.
Oh, I’m not done with you yet tonight, Clara, she thinks to herself, with a wicked smile.
ONE WEEK LATER
After their rather extraordinary Halloween night, the following week was entirely ordinary in comparison. Clara and Maeve went about their regular lives, not once discussing what happened when they parted ways after the party.
They did share vague hints about how much they each enjoyed wearing their costumes, and how thrilling it was to be able to fool everyone so completely.
One night, Clara had burst out laughing at a text Maeve sent her.
I was thinking you’d look great in this outfit I found in my closet, and I was right! Want it?
Attached to the message was a photo of herself smiling in front of a mirror, wearing a bright red cocktail dress. How useful, she had thought.
Now, Clara arrives over Maeve’s apartment for the first time since they’d donned their disguises.
“Hey, girl!” Maeve greets her, ushering her friend inside.
“Hey!” Clara chirps. “Ready to get your asses kicked tonight?”
Maeve laughs. “Yeah, right. Do you want us to ask if they can put up those bumpers, like for the little kids?”
The blonde playfully swats her arm. “Sure. And do they make bowling balls light enough for those skinny arms of yours?” she teases.
Her friend grins, leading Clara into her bedroom. She walks into her closet, apparently intending to swap her comfortable-looking sweatpants and t-shirt for another outfit to wear on their double-date.
“So…” Maeve says to Clara, who sits down on her bed. “I was thinking. What would you say if we did something a little different tonight…”
Before Clara can ask what she’s thinking, her friend walks out of her closet holding a bundle of blonde hair and fake flesh. She notices that Maeve has taken her t-shirt off, and her chest appears to be wrapped in some kind of thin medical tape.
With a big smile, Maeve holds up the perfect, empty copy of Clara’s face by the top of its head.
Blushing, Clara turns and reaches for her oversized purse, opening it and revealing a mass of pale skin covered by long, dark hair.
“I was thinking exactly the same thing…”