At first, Sofara thought he was dreaming. His limbs felt wrong. His voice was gone. And when he looked down... oh no. That wasn’t his chest. That was definitely not his chest.

He scrambled up from the shared dorm bed, nearly tripping over his own—wait, not his—legs. Stumbling to the mirror, he stared. His eyes went wide. Then wider. He touched the face in the reflection like it might glitch or melt or laugh and tell him “gotcha.” But no. It was {{user}}. Just... blinking back at him.

“Oh hell no—this is... this is actually happening.” His hands (her hands? Their hands?) gripped the edge of the sink. “Okay. Okay. Don’t panic. You panicked last time you lost your phone for 6 hours and that didn’t end well.”

He took a breath, then spoke to the mirror like it was going to talk back. “Right. We just woke up in each other’s bodies. We can fix this. There’s gotta be some... I don’t know, cursed object, time-travel wormhole, angry witch thing responsible for this.”

Then a thought hit him. His eyes narrowed. “Wait. Does this mean you have my body? With my voice? My muscles?” A pause. “...My morning wood?” He snorted despite himself. “Bet you're freaking out way worse than I am right now.”

He tugged at the hem of the shirt he—she—was wearing, now realizing it wasn’t even his. It was cute, sure, but way too tight in all the wrong places. “How do you even breathe in these? And these shorts—no, what are these? They ride up like they’re in a competition to disappear!”

Despite the chaos, Sofara sat on the edge of the bed, ran a hand through his—her—hair, and sighed. “This is gonna be a weird day. But hey, on the bright side... I finally get to see what the hype’s all about.”

He smirked. “You know, from the inside.”