Part 2:

I was sweaty, that was the first thing I felt when I woke up. I felt sticky and hot, and the sun was shining directly on my face, and I had one hell of a painful headache. My temples throbbed with pain. I clenched my eyes tight, but the pain never faded. It felt like someone had stuck a knife into my skull, deep into my brain. My mouth was completely dried out, and I felt sick.

I rolled out of the bed and landed on the floor. I looked down at myself, I was still in the little black dress from last night, and my body was still that of Jane’s. I could feel my weighty breasts hanging off my chest, barely contained by the tiny dress. I looked around the room. It seemed normal, it was a little messy, there were clothes on the floor, bras and panties strewn about. On a desk was a laptop and some take-out boxes that seemed at least a few days old. Standing up was a chore, and I finally managed to reach the door. I desperately needed to go to the bathroom, but the anxiety of being seen as Jane, and not knowing where anything was was grating. My heart was pounding, which caused my temples to pound, and more pain bloomed in my head.

I peeked out of the door and was at least a little relieved to find a hallway, and I could see an open door that must have been the bathroom. I moved down the hallway, keeping a hand on the wall to keep my balance. I then slipped into the bathroom.

When I turned around toward the mirror, I was stunned. Standing in the mirror was a short, maybe 5’4” girl with long blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes. Makeup was smeared all over her pretty face, and she had dark bags under her eyes. Her lipstick was smeared, and there was some crusty stuff on her cheek. She had large, perky breasts that sat high on her chest, even with no bra, and stuck out quite a bit. She had a slender waist, with curvaceous hips, and a clearly large backside. Her hair was a mess. She moved when I moved, it was clear that this was Jane, and this was me. Fuck.

  I pulled the dress up and sat onto the toilet, and let myself pee. It felt weird having to sit, and it felt doubly weird to pee like a girl. After I was finished, I took a wad of toilet paper and wiped myself up. That was about the moment I realized that I stank. I could smell the alcohol on my skin, and I smelled fishy between my legs, and my arm pits were rank. With the pounding headache, I stripped off my little dress, stepped into the shower and turned the hot water on full blast. There was something nice about feeling myself up while lathering up with soap. I had never been with a girl so incredibly hot, and it was a little weird knowing the girl I was feeling up was actually just me. The hot water felt amazing on my skin, and my headache started to fade just a bit.

I scrubbed between my legs until the skin was raw. The cum that had leaked out and dried there was stubborn and refused to come off. It made me feel gross, as if I had been nothing but a toy for that man, Dan. And this Jane girl, did she really think so low of herself to sell her body for drugs? While I had to admit that for most of what had happened I was riding on a wave of euphoria and general light, good feelings, I certainly felt like shit right now. Were all those feelings worth feeling like a pile of garbage in the morning? I didn’t think so. . . but, then again, I started to feel an itch for those feelings again. It was subtle, if my mind wasn’t occupied, a craving would set in, and it took a lot of work to think about literally anything else. But I managed it, and managed to finish showering.

*knock*

*Knock

  *KNOCK*

“Janey! You in there!?”

I had just grabbed a towel and was about to start drying myself, and my heart started pounding. Her voice was familiar. It had to be Steph. My mind raced. I didn’t know if this was Steph’s house and she just let me, as Jane, stay here for the night, or if they shared the place as roommates, or literally anything else. I just didn't know what the situation was like here.

 It wasn’t like I could pretend to be anyone else, anyways, so I just replied, “Yeah, I’m almost done!” My voice was sweet, the kind of voice that could get anything. Steph was a friend at the very least, so I just had to act normal. Whatever normal means for Jane, at least.

“I’ve gotta go, so hurry up! You sound like you’re feeling better.”

“I’m just great.” I wrapped the towel around my breasts. I felt a little exposed “down there,” but the towel was just long enough to cover it. My hair was still wet and hung down the sides of my head in strands. Do I blow dry my hair? Is that what I am supposed to do? But Steph seemed like she was in a hurry to use the bathroom.

“I bet! I’ll tell you about it all over breakfast, cuz I doubt you remember a thing,” she said.

Perfect! “Oh, yeah, its all blank!”

Steph laughed on the other side of the door. This was it, time to face her for real. I swung the door open, and standing in front of me was a slightly curvy brunette. She was taller than me, and had a shapely figure, but was flat in the chest. She had a pretty face, messy shoulder length hair, and beautiful hazel eyes. I had a rogue thought, these California girls are all hot, aren’t they? I just smiled at her.

“Going au naturel today?”

I just kept smiling, trying to figure out what she meant. “Sure,” I said.

She dipped past through the door then shut it quickly. I was left standing awkwardly in the hallway. This “being Jane” thing was too easy, right? Did Steph suspect anything?

 As I walked back into the room I woke up in and tried to find clothing in the drawers, I started thinking about my own body. The Body of Greg Kors. Was Jane in my body? My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I was nowhere near being in shape; I was a blubbery fat-body living in a cramped apartment, and the thought of such a hot girl suddenly opening their eyes and seeing that they have become that? I couldn’t help but feel bad for her. Maybe I could try to call myself? See if Jane answers?

Despite the mythological difficulty of bras, I managed it quite well. I peeked at the size out of curiosity, and wow, I had some big ones. 32E. Jane was basically just some tits on a stick, with the added bonus of a nice ass. But then I felt miserable.

I was not a ladies man. I’ve slept with a few women over the years, but most of my time was spent wacking off to internet porn, and that sort of language clearly filtered into my daily use. Somehow, objectifying my own body did something to me. I can’t quite explain it, but it made me feel pretty depressed. Jane was thin, attractive, gorgeous by all means and measures. And I felt good about that. Something about it was nice, knowing that people would find me hot, especially after living my life in my schlubby body never getting a single compliment of my looks. But it just wasn’t me. And then there was this twisting feeling, that if I ever met Jane as myself, with me in my body, and she in hers, my mind would have straight to one thing. I felt like dirt. Because if I felt that way, other men would to, and my thoughts strayed to last night to the sex, being used to pay for things I didn’t want.

With a bra on, and some panties slipped over my large butt, I fell back into bed after grabbing Jane’s phone. I guess Steph plugged it in for me last night when she brought me here, nice of her. This was clearly Jane’s room, where she lived, so Steph was a friend and roommate, which made me feel a little better. If Steph was just letting me stay over, then this would have been temporary and I wouldn’t know where to go after she kicked me out. But now I don't have to worry about that.

What I did have to worry about was this phone, and how to get into it. Once again I was brought to the lock screen. Then it clicked. There was a fingerprint reader. It was in the screen. My dumb ass was too fucked up last night to even think about that. Under the pincode was a small fingerprint icon, so I placed a thumb on it, and Ta-da! The phone opened up. How did I not see it last night? My memories of last night were foggy, but I don’t think I was so fucked up to miss something like that. I shrugged and opened the phone app.

I typed in my number, and my stomach was twisting and turning. I had no idea what to expect.

I hit the call number button.

It rang.

. . .

“Hello” said a burly man’s voice, a voice I immediately recognized. My father’s. What the hell was he doing with my phone?

“Is Greg there? Tell him its. . . Jane.”

There was silence on the other end for a few moments.

“I’m sorry, Jane. Greg passed away last night.”

Wait, what?

Wait. W-What?

“No, I talked to him last night,” I said incredulously.

“It happened late at night, the doctors say. After you talked to him, probably. . . Who is this? I am Greg’s dad. . . and I want to know how you knew him. He never spoke about a Jane.”

“Just a friend, we met pretty recently.”

“Your number is not saved in his phone.”

“I. . . uh, we were still getting to know each other. We met online.”

“I see.” There was more silence.

"How did he pass, if you don't mind me asking?" My guts twisted.

"Heart attack."

"Oh."

More silence. I tried to think of something to say.

“If you could. . . keep in touch with me? That would be nice? I’d like to be there, you know, when all the stuff happens? We were getting quite close, I think."

“I’ll save this number, I’ll keep in touch, Jane. I am sorry.”

“No, I am sorry for your loss, Greg was great.”

“Thank you.” *click* He hung up. Holy shit this cannot be happening. I am dead?

I threw the phone onto the floor. I paced around Jane’s room. I grabbed some shorts and a tank top and slipped them on. I wanted out, out of this body, this house, everything. I felt nauseous. I felt weak. I fell to my knees and retched onto the floor.

Steph opened the door a crack and looked at me. I was tearing up, and looking at her, I just started bawling. She came in and picked me up by my shoulders, led me to the bathroom and put me over the toilet. A complete stranger to me. She held my wet hair back, and I threw up some more, and cried even harder.

This is not supposed to happen. I should be dead. No one should ever survive their own fucking death, having to live in secret watching everyone you know hurt over your own passing.

I thought about my Dad, my Mom, my friends. And then there was Jane. What happened to her? God forbid she ended up in my body in the middle of a heart attack. . . Looking at Steph I realized that she had no idea that her friend was actually somewhere else, probably dead. Oh god.

I didn’t know it was possible to cry even harder, but damn did I impress myself. Snot, drool, tears, puke, I was a true mess. And I felt Steph's arms around me, and I was surprised by how much I needed it. I didn’t even know this girl, and she was comforting me because she thought I was someone else. How fucked is that?

I wiped my mouth, stood and turned towards the mirror, looking at me. Jane. Me.

“No more drugs.”

Steph came up beside me, looking at me through the mirror. “You mean it, this time? I hate seeing you like this, you know. I love you, Janey, but you could die doing this shit.”

“I know. Trust me, I know.” I frowned. More tears threatened to fall.

“Fuck, you look serious. Alright, I’m here for you. Do you need me to do anything?”

“Not yet. I am going to clean my room.”

“Good, its fucking disgusting.”

I started giggling.

“At least you’re still insane. Something’s changed, though, I can tell.”

“Hopefully for the better?”

“Seems like it.”

I gave Steph a hug. While she was basically a complete stranger to me, she obviously loved Jane, and it made it so easy to find some comfort with her. Because I had to remember that I was Jane, now. Steph is my friend. Not Janes. I needed that.