//ALTER//

i.ii

"Love, wake up. You have a scheduled video interview today," I heard Patrick's voice announce as I heard him walk into my room, jolting me awake.

What's with the endearment? And a scheduled what today?

And how the hell did Patrick just entered my room without my mom freaking out? Or screaming at me to wake up and attend to him?

My eyes flew open in alarm as I quickly sat up on my extremely soft and comfortable king-size bed.

Then, a realization hit me like a train, wrecking my brains outta my skull. THIS ISN'T MY FUCKING BED NOR IS THIS MY FUCKING ROOM!

"Shit!" I yelled in panic as I quickly hopped off of the bed and landed on the fur rug covered floor. What the hell is going on? Where the fuck am I?

"Whataya think?" Patrick asked, holding up a pair of jeans in one hand and a powder pink turtle neck sleeveless top in a hanger on his other hand.

I whipped my head to the direction of a light blonde-haired man in a pair of black skinny jeans with a Louis Vuitton belt secured around his waist and a dark blue polo blouse tucked in his jeans. That's Patrick?

"Patrick?"

"Yes?" He asked in the same curious tone of voice that I used, tilting his head a little to the side.

"Since when did you change your appearance?! Where the hell are we?!!" I exclaimed, desperate to have an answer with all these real time weirdness.

"Hey! If that's your way of complimenting my good fashion sense and good looks, thank you very much." He sassily responded as he smirked, "And you're in your room in your mom's house. Are you hungover?"

I shook my head sideways. My head swirled from being overwhelmed with the situation.

Did my wish just...come true? Is this it? Oh my god...

I sat on the edge of my bed and took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself down.

Then I looked around my room, which is really spacious and luxurious.

There's a fucking chandelier hanging on the ceiling and holy shit is my bed tufted? Oh of COURSE it fucking is!

There are tall white sheer curtains beneath the velvet tan that perfectly puts the entire room together; tall glass balcony doors and windows; panel lights lined right on the ceiling where the headboard is; a fancy pair of tufted bedroom sofa... there's so much going on, but I'm overwhelmingly satisfied and joyful at how beautiful and simple this room is.

Maybe this is just a dream. Dreams manifest the things that you've been wanting and fearing the most, right? This is literally everything I've ever wanted.

Maybe if I allow myself to pass out, I'll finally wake up from this weird dream that's way too damn good to be my reality.