"Ugh." You groan, feeling the slight hangover that encased your brain as you tried to remember what had happened last night. A blur of vodka, party hats, and One Direction songs filled your brain. Louis' birthday party - every year it left you dazed and confused. Normally, you'd wake up in a bathtub, but you and Harry had made a pact to get home and get in bed at a reasonable time. Luckily, you'd made it. "Haz, wake up." Grabbing your throat, your voice sounds... deep. "Hello? Oh my god, Harry! I sound like... you!" You toss the blankets off your sleeping companion and let out a screetch, to see a replica of yourself lying face down in the pillow. Slowly, they open their eyes and you let out a boyish shout, scrambling to your feet. The person - you - lets out a vicious shriek, grabbing their throat in the same way. "Why do I sound like a girl? Why are you me?" Their eyes widen, and you let out a sniffle - tears slipping down your new tanned cheeks. "I... I dunno. Harry, what are we going to do?" You blubber - and your boyfriend/you quickly hops off the bed and dashes to the mirror. "I know what I'm going to do!" He grins cheekily, grabbing your white tanktop on his new body - and hoisting it over his - your, head. "HARRY, PUT MY FUCKING SHIRT BACK ON!"
