"You want me to.. Be.. You?" I dumbly ask Sonny.
My brother looks directly at me and I feel as if I'm looking in a mirror where my emotional pain is showing in physical form.
"Essentially, yes. But only if you're willing to and if you are, you'll only have to do it for as long as I'm in the hospital," he says gently.
"I don't know, Sonny. What if the musical group you're joining notices?"
Sonny just chuckles and says to me with a smile, "They have yet to meet me. I was going to meet them tomorrow at 1:30."
Andre decides to speak up.
"They're going to want you to sing one of their songs, Sonny. How well can you sing, Sonya?"
I shrug, "I don't know. I haven't sung since our eighth birthday."
Sonny looks up with a grim, knowing smile.
Nobody says anything for the next few minutes.
But Andre pipes up.
"Sonya, Sonny, we're going to match pitch. Sonny, sing A flat. Sonya, match it."
Obediently, Sonny and I did this exercise for every possible note that either one of us could hit and well as small phrases from multiple fast and slow paced songs.
Andre smiles and laughs.
"What's so funny?" We both ask simutaniously.
"You both look exactly alike, have the same exact musical vocals, back story, and you two grew up with only having each other. Sonya, you know exactly how Sonny's thoughts would be in any situation and he you."
I shake my head lightly.
"I don't know, Sonny.. What if I get caught in a lie. What if somebody catches me being you?"
"They won't if you're just as reclusive as when we were younger."
"Sonny.. What do you need me to do.."
"All I need you to do, Sonya, is to get a hair cut just like mine, dress like me, talk, think, and act like me. Okay?"
"All right.. I will try my best."
"Andre. Take Sonya out and get her hair cut like mine and buy her a ton of clothes that I would wear. Shoes, jackets, shirts, pants, suits, hats, anything." Sonny instructed Andre. "Sonya, First thing you need to do is get your hair cut and dyed, okay? Go now. You need everything done and ready in less than a day."
Andre and I both swiftly nod, gather our things, and go to the nearest and most professional hair salon.
YOU ARE READING
What Should I Do?
Teen FictionNot knowing who her parents are and being raised in an orphanage, all she had was her twin brother whom she would die for if need be. Well, now her brother asks her to do something for her saying it's small but she doesn't consider posing as him is...
