As you examine the state of this girl's apartment, the front door creaks open.
Another girl, also age 18 or 19, enters the living room with a reusable grocery bag strapped on her arm. She notices you standing there, pauses, and raises her eyebrows.
"That you, Caitlin?" She asks.
"Not exactly..." You reply, Caitlin's squeaky feminine voice coming out of your throat. "I take it you know she went to the bodyport earlier today?"
The girl sets the bag down on a table and sweeps her long, blonde hair to the side. "Yeah! Please, make yourself at home. You already know your name; my name is Brittany. We're roommates."
Brittany is a short, thin girl with a cheerful demeanor. Her tanned skin and bleach blonde hair makes her look like a beach bunny, the kind who wouldn't look out of place in a sorority. She's pretty, with a dazzling smile that dimples up to her raised cheekbones, and she has the slightest hint of freckles. She has a nose piercing and plug piercings distending the lobes of her ears a little. Her eyes are also brown, and they shine back at you with a fresh curiosity as they seem to try to pierce inside of you to find out who her roommate has become.
She's dressed in a strappy tank top (floral patterned, not a solid blue like yours) that frills out at her hips and gives way to a denim miniskirt that rides halfway up her tanned, creamy thighs. Finally, cute little sneakers adorn her feet.
You step forward to shake her hand, introducing yourself and explaining why you'll be occupying her roommate's body for the next week.
Brittany erupts in a peal of nasally laughter. "Ah ha ha! I can't believe this... My roommate is really a 21-year-old guy named Jonathan Rivers." She kicks off her shoes, sits on the couch, and pulls the tab of a soda can. It fizzles in her hand as she presses her lips to its mouth, sucking in the froth so it doesn't spill on the couch.
"I haven't talked to Caitlin yet. Anything I should know about her just in case?" You ask, gazing down at this roommate who seems just as messy as the rest of the apartment reflects.
"Let me think," She inhales. Counting on her slender fingers, she begins, "Well, for starters, your body is most definitely lactose intolerant. So no milk, no cheese, no dairy for you! But Caitlin doesn't really mind because she's a vegan. So I guess that means you are now too, sweetie."
You snort, folding your new slender arms underneath your boobs. Oh yeah, you have boobs now. "Not if I can help it. I'm sure the planet isn't gonna burn down if I eat a hamburger."
"Suit yourself, but meat upsets Caitlin's stomach pretty easily." Brittany winks innocently. "I doubt you want something like that happening during one of your hotshot business meetings, do you?"
You grimace. Why did you have to get this body and life?
"Okay, whatever. I'm sure I'll find out more stuff about this girl's life over the next week. Just a couple more questions: why would a girl like Caitlin want to swap with me? Assuming it wasn't a mix up, of course. I'm a big guy, I'm six-foot-four, played basketball for several years before going to university. And lastly, does this chick have any business clothes I can wear next week?"
Not everyone likes using bodyports because to use them means swapping lives with somebody else. You get their body and, in exchange, they get your body. The bodyport works essentially like a mind uploader, transferring your personality, memories, knowledge, and other things between physical brains. For people swapping across the country, and in many cases across different countries, that means trusting strangers not to ruin your life.
When bodyports were first invented, few people wanted to use them because of some highly publicised stories of joyrides taken while in others' bodies. Crime, drug use, even accidental deaths while in someone else's body were all legitimate concerns that deterred people from using this new technology. But against doomsayers' predictions, most people actually do treat others' lives with care and respect. Bodyports are required by law to compensate thefts and other "damages" to customers, and they afford this through subsidies from the government as well as fees and charges paid by those found to be irresponsible while in others' lives.
"Hmm, Caitlin probably wanted to know what it's like to be a guy." Brittany shrugs her shoulders. "That's what she told me at the club on Saturday night, at least."
"Wait, do girls really think about that sort of thing?"
She glances at you crassly. "Seriously? Who doesn't wanna know what it's like on the other side of the gender fence? I've even had a few thoughts myself. I've never been a guy though, only used a bodyport once and that was to go visit my Nana in the hospital before she passed away. She had had a stroke all of a sudden and I couldn't get there in time by train. And most regular airports had gone out of business by that time."
"I'm sorry to hear that," You reply. It's amazing how much this girl is willing to open up to you. Maybe it's because you look like her roommate, so she feels more comfortable around you.
"Do you have, like, a Facebook or Instagram account?"
You nod, and she gives you her laptop to log into your Facebook profile. You're not active on that site, but there are several tagged photos which you show her. She hums in admiration as she tabs through the photos.
"Mmm... yum! Now that's definitely my cup of tea! Caitlin found herself a sexy bod for sure," She laughs, and your face reddens. Seeing your reaction, she scoffs, "Aww, how sweet! You look so cute when you're embarrassed."
Changing the subject, you clear your throat. "So, why is this place such a mess? Looks like a tornado went through here..."
"If you wanna clean it up, roommate, I'm not stopping ya!" Brittany drawls, stretching out her legs on the couch and flipping on the TV.
"Hey, what about my other question? The one about business clothes?" You frown. "I don't want to spend my own money buying clothes for this girl that I'm only gonna wear once or twice."
To prevent identity theft, bodyports also electronically transferred customers' banking and credit information into their newly swapped lives. That means that even though you may have Caitlin's credit cards, anywhere you use them will recognise your own accounts instead. It's not a perfect system, as online purchases are still vulnerable to people manually entering in card information, but people usually approve these purchases using text or e-mail confirmations.
"Oh, that's an easy answer!" She replies flippantly. What does Brittany, Caitlin's roommate, say regarding business clothes you can wear for the upcoming, week-long meetings?
  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
<<-- Previous · Outline  · Recent Additions © Copyright 2025 Clockworange (UN: clockworange at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
MysteryGirl has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work within this interactive story. Poster accepts all responsibility, legal and otherwise, for the content uploaded, submitted to and posted on Writing.Com. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author