Chapter 2: The Deadline and the Double

She wagged a finger at me like she was my mom and my parole officer rolled into one. “Don’t embarrass me, Lila. Not again.”

"Uh... Next Monday?"

Before I could finish, Aunt Karen took a call and hustled out, leaving me hanging.

I watched her go, my mind already racing with excuses. I chewed my lip, thinking about the calendar reminder blinking on my phone.

"Next Monday won’t work... I have a brand shoot that day."

Next Monday happens to be the day I need to return to the afterlife to switch bodies.

It’s like getting an oil change, but for souls. Miss it, and things get messy. Real messy.

I’m formless by nature, and this human body only lasts two months, so every two months I have to go back to the afterlife for a new one. Dad always said, "Nothing lasts forever, kid—especially not meat suits."

My dad told me I must switch bodies on time, or something terrible will happen.

He never said what, but the way he looked at me when he said it—spooked even me.

As for what that terrible thing is, I don’t know—because for the past three years, I’ve always switched bodies on time.

I wasn’t about to test the limits. I liked my limbs attached.

After Aunt Karen left, I used a spirit mirror—a scrying mirror, basically—to call my dad and asked if I could switch bodies early. He shook his head.

"It takes two months to make a body. It’s not like you can get one whenever you want. I checked with the craftsman; actually, it’s fine to be a day late—just be careful not to let anyone touch you."

He sounded almost apologetic, but I could see he was already distracted by a spirit poker game in the background.

I nodded. Great. Easy.

No biggie, I thought. It’s just a lifestyle show. How much trouble could I get into?

That reality show is called "Chill Kitchen Time"—a cozy, live, vibes-only show—not a competitive one, so there shouldn’t be any physical contact.

I looked up the cast list: a couple of celebrity chefs, a washed-up pop star, and, of course, Savannah Monroe. Perfect.

Three days later, I packed my suitcase and arrived at the show.

The production assistant greeted me with a forced smile and a lanyard badge that read "Lila—Please Behave." Subtle.

Just as I expected, as soon as I walked in, everyone was annoyed, and the fans watching the live stream started roasting me:

[u/WhyInviteHer: Why did they invite this diva? Is she going to sneak into Tyler Blake’s room to steal his clothes again?]

[u/Tyler4Life: Don’t even say it, she’s definitely here for Tyler.]

[u/SavanTySquad💀: Don’t worry, our Savannah is here this time. Everyone knows Savannah and Tyler are a couple. Let’s see what Lila dares to do.]

Tyler Blake is the male celeb whose clothes I stole last time.

He’s got the classic heartthrob thing going—messy hair, lazy smile, the kind of guy who makes you want to write bad poetry. I tried not to think about the pajama incident.

As for Savannah Monroe, she debuted a year after me and looks a bit like me, so she started out with a similar controversial—bad-girl—route.

People called us the "Twin Tornadoes" for a while. But Savannah, ever the strategist, cleaned up her act and left me holding the drama bag.

But two years have passed, and she’s already cleaned up her image and become America’s sweetheart. What really helped her was Tyler Blake.

The tabloids couldn’t get enough of their "will-they-won’t-they" chemistry. Suddenly, Savannah was the girl next door, and I was public enemy number one.

She and Tyler starred in a drama together. The show didn’t blow up, but the two of them got popular because they were sweet off-screen, so they have a lot of shipper fans.

Their fans called themselves the "SavanTy Squad." I tried not to gag every time I saw the hashtag trending.

Because I stole Tyler’s clothes, I was seen as the third wheel and got endlessly flamed. Savannah also shades me on various shows from time to time.

She’s got the passive-aggressive thing down to an art. If there were an Emmy for backhanded compliments, she’d win every year.

Honestly, if it weren’t for her, I couldn’t have collected so much spirit energy in just three years.

I owe her a fruit basket. Or maybe a voodoo doll. Depends on the day.

"Lila, hey! What a coincidence. Oh wow, your dress looks a lot like mine."

Savannah greeted me with fake enthusiasm. As she got closer, she realized the white dress she was wearing was from the same designer collection as mine.

She gave me that wide-eyed, innocent look—the ‘oops twinsies’ face you see on TikTok—like she just happened to pick the same outfit. Please.

I felt a little awkward. Yesterday, before coming to film, I posted online asking my haters how this little white dress looked. Today, she wore the same one.

Of course she did. The internet was already buzzing about it. I could practically hear the fan wars starting in real time.

Sure enough, as soon as she said that, the live comments blew up:

[Wow, can’t get to Tyler so she goes for Savannah.]

[This girl really knows how to chase clout.]

[Savannah is so kind, still calling her sis. If it were me, I’d slap her.]

The comment section was on fire. Someone even started a poll: "Who wore it better?" Spoiler: not me.

I sneered and was about to clap back when suddenly I was shoved from behind.

I stumbled, arms pinwheeling, and saw Tyler’s shocked face as he tried to sidestep me. But it was too late.

I fell straight toward Tyler, who was carrying a bowl of hot soup. Tyler quickly dodged.

The soup went flying, and the room gasped. I braced for impact.

Thud.

I hit the floor, but didn’t feel any pain.

It was like falling into a dream. No pain, just a weird sense of detachment, like I was watching from outside my own body.

When I came to, there were several screams in the big room:

"Ah—ghost!"

I looked down and saw my limbs scattered all over the room.

My arm landed on the kitchen counter. My leg was tangled in a barstool. My head—still attached to my torso, mercifully—was staring up at the ceiling. This was not in the script.

So this is the terrible thing my dad warned about…

I mentally cursed him. A little more warning next time, Dad?

My body parts were scattered all over the living room, with only my head still attached to my torso. Weirdly, I felt a kind of relief—at least my head hadn’t rolled away. Small victories.

The camera was still rolling. I could see my hand waving at nobody in particular. Somewhere, a producer was probably having a heart attack.

There were five guests for the taping.

The regulars are Chef Sam and Chef Greg, both of whom had already bolted from the room in terror. Another guest was named Jamie.

Chef Sam tripped over a camera cable on his way out. Chef Greg dropped a stack of plates. Jamie, bless her, just froze like a deer in headlights.

By chance, my eyeball landed right in the bowl of noodles she had just made.

I watched, helpless, as she stared at the floating eyeball, then promptly fainted, face-first into her own dish. Classic.

The sound her forehead made hitting the table was almost musical. I almost felt bad—almost.

As for the culprit, Savannah Monroe, who made me fall apart, she stood there in a daze, looking like her soul had left her body.

She looked paler than the flour on the kitchen counter. Her mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. It was almost poetic justice.

I smirked and rolled my head toward Savannah, channeling my best horror-camp villain laugh:

"Heh-heh-heh. Savannah, payback’s a bitch!"

I drew out the last word, letting it echo through the stunned silence. If I was going down, I was taking her with me.

Just as I was about to reach Savannah—

Thud.

Savannah collapsed stiffly to the ground, then started crying and hugging her head:

"Ahhh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, don’t hurt me! All those nasty tabloid leaks comparing us were bought by my agent!"

She sounded like a toddler caught with her hand in the cookie jar. The crew stared, unsure whether to call an ambulance or an exorcist.

As soon as Savannah finished, the live stream exploded, the comments flying:

[u/DramaAlert: Did I just see that? Lila fell and broke apart?]

[u/SkepticSam: No way, she’s definitely pulling another stunt. Not the first time.]

[u/ConspiracyCraze: Is it magic? Wait, what did Savannah just say?]