You wake up feeling… unreasonably stiff. Your neck cracks as you sit up—an unexpected pop echoes in the otherwise silent room.
You glance down, your hands grudgingly lifting themselves. Sharp, manicured nails, slender fingers. A blazer drapes over your shoulders. You blink twice as your legs shift—heels. High heels.
Blanketing your confusion is a wave of mild irritation. You swing your legs off the bed and shuffle to the mirror. Your reflection stares back—tall, pale skin, short blonde hair styled just-so, rose-pink sclera and red lipstick. Your posture is impeccable. Your expression? Bitchy perfection.
Your heart thuds.
You’re Katie Killjoy.
The one from 666 News, the queen of scathing headlines. And this—is her body.
Before panic or excitement can take over, the door creaks.
Your roommate, bleary-eyed, pokes in.
Roommate: “Um… do you… need help?”
Their eyes trail down your heels, then lock on your face.
Roommate: “uhhh... Are… you okay? You look like someone… else.”
You swallow, straightening up. Your voice—sharp, clipped—escapes your lips:
You: “look, I’m fine. Just… need coffee.”
Your tone is confident—borderline arrogant. Because, well, it is Katie. And you…are still inside, fumbling.
Roommate (quietly): “You’re… acting weird. Are you… sure everything’s okay?”
Your hand twitches lightly. The click of your heel echoes.
Your reflection shifts. Your eyes glint.
Something inside you wants to huff out the room, shout headlines about mystery, gossip, ratings. But first...
You (narrowing your eyes): “Let’s just say… I’ve got some breaking news.”