Switched Souls [AU] 5SOS

Two

Lucie

Home. A simple four letter word that can mean so much. But in this case, it simply meant weekend and being free of my uni-obligations for a little while. Hallelujah!

I was scrolling through the Twitter app on my phone, not seeing much interesting come by, except for a lot of pictures of 5SOS arriving at an airport somewhere in Italy the day before. That's where their tour started today and I was pretty excited, even if I wasn't going since they weren't doing a concert in my country. And I know, I could have travelled to another nearby country for them, but do you see any money? I don't.

But, the pictures and stories will keep me satisfied, I'm sure. Oh, and not to forget the videos of course. Those will be most likely the best out of all.

For now, however, I had finally made that hot cocoa and I was sitting on my bed, laptop on my lap and Netflix open. Time to watch some things.

I was scrolling through the various options, feeling my eyes droop a bit. I tried to keep my gaze focused, but put my cocoa on the nightstand just in case. Why was I suddenly so tired, damnit.

I rubbed at my eyes, staring at my screen after and eventually closing my eyes for a moment. They were stinging and whoah, why am I feeling so dizzy?

I opened my eyes slowly, blinking a few times and rubbing at them again, before looking up and right into a mirror.

Mirror.

Wait.

Where did the mirror come from?

I blinked again and again, focusing my eyes on the reflection. Because whoah, I'm suddenly tall. And blonde. And since when do I have blue eyes and why do I look like Luke Hemmings?

I stared at the reflection with wide eyes, seeing it copy me. What the fuck?

I moved my right hand up slowly, but the reflection still copied me. I then moved my hand faster, swirling it around. Yet, the reflection still did exactly the same.

Looking down, I noticed I was wearing the same as the reflection. My hands were definitely bigger and more masculine, more rougher. I moved my eyes up and to my surprise, I saw no boobs. Like, flat chest. No bumps. Nothing.

Lastly, I moved my hands up, feeling at the scruff on my face. I moved them to my hair, ruffling the flat fringe before running my fingers through it and tugging at it. A little too roughly, apparently, as it hurt and shit. It really hurt.

But how the fuck was it possible that I was Luke Hemmings? This must be a dream, right? I'm not a nineteen year old guitarist and lead singer of a famous band! I'm not blonde, nor blue-eyed, nor a male! I'm Lucie. Not Luke.

"Hey mate, are you-"

I let out the manliest squeak of all times, turning to the door of what appeared to be a dressing room with wide eyes. Holy crap.

"Are you okay?"

My eyes stayed wide, focused on the bleached-blonde male in the door-opening, also known as Michael fucking Clifford. Or Gordon, but you catch my drift, right? Right.

"Holy shit." I slapped a hand in front of my mouth, mostly to keep from squeaking at how deep my voice had sounded.

"Luke?"

"Fuck shit what the fuck." I mumbled out, moving my eyes back to the mirror and leaning closer, patting my face.

"Luke, mate, what're you doing?" Michael asked, a slight chuckle in his words as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.