wasn't really sure it was love at first sight.

After all, I thought those first sparks usually happened in somewhere more romantic. Like some park with lush greenery or a beach where you can hear the waves crashing.

And not in the hospital.

But then Dr Hudgens was so charming.

And sweet.

And irresistible.

"Here's your prescription. Just drop them at the nurses' and you can collect them in no time." He muttered, keeping his eyes on the computer, fists all balled up. Did I imagine how husky his voice was?

But I also knew that there was never going to be a relationship no matter how big the crush I had on him. Because he saw me at my ugliest point of my life.


Reminding me of my stupid rash – which was the reason why I came to the hospital – I stroked my face, thanked Dr Hudgens and rushed out of the room.

Before I started hyperventilating and faint in the room.

Which wasn't that bad an idea because he could give me the kiss of life.

Imagine that, his warm and teasing lips brushing across mine.

"Ouch!" I shrieked as I knocked into the wall. Damn it. Pay attention when you walk, I reminded myself.

"Ms Swan, please be careful." Dr Hudgens charming voice came back from the room.

"Thanks," I muttered in embarrassment, closing the door behind me.

"Ha-ha, Stella. I hardly see you so uncoordinated." My older sister, Daphne started teasing me.

I rolled my eyes and stomped away in protest.

I handed my prescription the nurse, took a seat and three minutes later, I collected my antibiotics and anti-rash cream. All in all, it was pretty fast, just like what Dr Hudgens had said.

I sighed.

Dr Hudgens.

"The start of a relationship had just wilted away," I muttered to myself as I handed the cashier a twenty-dollar bill.

"Wow. So cheesy. What the hell happened to you anyway?" Daphne tapped onto my shoulder suddenly, making me jump.

"Loser, get lost." I pushed Daphne away as I took the change and receipt from the cashier. I didn't really want to mean to Daphne but I wasn't in a good mood in the first place.

"Hmm... Knocks into a wall for no reason... Coming up with cheesy phrases... Ugh." Daphne made a disgusted face as we walked towards the elevator.

"What now?" I asked, irritated.

"I think you caught the love syndrome, darling. Maybe the rash is just a symptom. The cause could probably because you blush too much in front of a guy." Daphne teased, before roaring in laughter.

Damn it.

I smacked my sister on the back of her head hard.

"You're such a bitch."

"Ooh. Stella's admitting a crush." Daphne sang.

I rolled my eyes again.

"Come on, darling!"

I ignored her as the elevator doors opened.

"Ok, Stella. Sorry. Shouldn't tease you about boys." She looked at me with a heart-breaking expression.

"That's better."

"But then, you still have a crush on someone!" Daphne chimed as she rushed out of the elevator and towards her Ford Fiesta.

"Daphne!" I screamed, running after her.

Sometimes my twin sister can just be such a handful.

Especially when she's older than me.

This guy is officially weird.

He kept on looking at me since I entered Starbucks and now is following me out of the store.

Is he a stalker, on the dark side.

Or is he a secret admirer, I smiled at the thought.

Whatever it is, I clutched my iced latte in my hands as I strolled down the sidewalk.

And I could hear his footsteps behind me.

Damn it.

No admirer, Daphne.

It's stalker alert.

But even before I could start running, the guy caught up with me.

Oh no.

I'm going to get raped.

I glanced around.

In broad daylight!

Not really. It was twilight now.

Damn it. No wonder. It's so unsafe.


The guy overtook me before whisking around and looked at me with a forlorn expression.

My oh my, he's one gorgeous guy.

And why didn't I notice that just now.

Oh well. I'm getting a close-up view now.

Which isn't supposed to be very good. Because he's just two feet away from me.


"Excuse me, are you Miss Swan?" He asked in a deep voice. Sounds pretty sexy to me.

"Err. Well. Yes." I stuttered a little. Wondered if it was the fact I was going to be raped and murdered in another two seconds time. Not really two seconds. You can't rape someone in two seconds. Hmm... Five minutes for him to enjoy me? Ugh. Or was I too charmed by his handsomeness.

"Then may I have the honour of returning you your phone?" Huh? What? Wow. Totally unexpected.

This cute, hot, sexy guy fished my phone out from his pocket and returned it to me.

Oh my God. His fingers brushed across my knuckles as he placed the retarded metal thing onto my palm.

"Thanks a million. And could I like treat you? I mean, to... to thank you. Yeah," My gosh. I was really sounding damn retarded.

"Actually, I'm kind of in a rush. Maybe next time?" He sounded ten thousand times cooler than me.

Aw... My heart started melting.

Ok. That's was an exaggerating.

I wasn't melting.

I was boiling.

Because this damn guy was burning up the place.

"Yeah. Sure. Can I have your number? Or something like that?" I couldn't believe it. I was actually asking a guy for his number. Ugh. That was so wrong. Guys must always take the initiative.

But who cares.

"Your phone?" He asked. I gave it to him.

I'll make exception to... to..., what's his name?

Hmm... I peeked over my phone.


Nice name.

Even though, that was the name of my geeky lab partner ten years ago.

I shuddered.

That name was totally wasted on that retard. Even though I was much more stupid than him.

"Here." He handed me the phone. Electricity jolted through me as his fingertips touched my wrists.


"Got to run now."

"Bye." I said in airy voice, watching his long legs run.


Daphne Swan falling in love.

"Damn it, Daphne Swan, my sis, is actually falling in love?" I shrieked.

Because her boyfriend usually don't last longer than her bath.

"Admit it, baby sis. I'm good."

"No way." Even though I was pretty jealous.

Why could my sis get hooked up with Mr Handsome and I am missing Dr Hudgens every day?

Not really every day.

The hospital trip was only two days ago.

Daphne's freaky guy encounter was two hours ago.

And she's going to call him in another two minutes.

What the hell?

"Hello?" Daphne smiled as she whispered into her phone. I leaned in to hear their conversation . Daphne made a face at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Excuse me, is this Dylan?" She asked in her sweetest voice. I shuddered.

There was a short pause.

"Hi. I'm Miss Swan, remember?" Wow. They've already exchanged names. Is this speed dating?

Short pause.

"Yeah. That's right. I'm glad you remembered." Daphne smiled sweetly at the air before getting off the bed.

Long, long pause.

"How about the French restaurant not too far away from Starbucks?" She stood up, and animated wildly in the air.

Longer pause.

My lips twitched at the thought of Daphne being rejected.

"Uh huh…" Her eyes sparked in anticipated.

"Ok. Sure. Yeah. I'll see you." And she hung on the Dylan guy.

It was two seconds later when she started screaming.

"Oh my God! I've got a bloody date with the cutest guy on Earth!" Daphne shrieked. I covered my ears and mouthed bla, bla at her.

And then she dived into the bed.

"You said that about Joel four days ago. And to..., to...," I ransacked my memory for her previous boyfriends. "To...Michael, last week. I wonder how long this will last." I threw in the sarcasm for her benefit.

"Joel was bloody cute." Daphne snapped.

And she paused for a second, ruffling her hair in the wind.

"But Dylan's cuter." She concluded, grinning.

"And then you'll find another guy called James next week and declare him cuter and hotter than Joel and Dylan."

"No. I'm positive about this one."

"Yes, Daphne." Would I ever win her in debating? Daphne was Daphne, after all.

"Anyway, I got a favour from you."

Ok. I knew that tone.

"No, no. Daphne, please." I begged her.

"Stella, it's just a shopping trip." She retorted.

Shopping. Yeah right.


"I bet you're the only girl on Earth who dislikes shopping." Daphne rolled her eyes.

"I bet you're the only girl in the Universe who loves shopping."

"Everyone loves the mall."

"Yes, guy-and-shop-a-holic." I pinched her cheeks as I got off the bed.

"Yeah. We're going shopping. And I'm going on a date." Daphne sang as she picked up her Guess handbag and skipped out of the room.

Life was so unfair.

Could I be as happy as her if I was in love?

"One hundred and forty seven dollars," The cashier chimed behind the cash register.

My jaw dropped with a popping sound.

"What?" I muttered in shock into Stella's ears.

"What what?" She muttered back.

I giggled.

"What the hell?"

"What what the hell?" Stella rolled her eyes.

It was her expression that kept me from laughing.

"Ok, why is it so bloody expensive?"

"Because you nearly bought the entire shop," Stella explained as she snatched my LV wallet away from me.

"Miss, cash or credit?" The cashier drummed her fingers impatiently onto the counter.

"Credit." Stella answered, snapping my Visa card onto the smooth, shiny top.

"Thank you." And then there was chink, chink sound before I was handed a receipt.

Stella handed me a pen.

I didn't move. I just smiled.

"Damn it," She growled, snatching the pen back and scribbled my signature in her neat scrawl.

"Thanks sis." And I pecked on her cheeks.

"Thanks for what?" Both Stella and the cashier looked at me with a big question mark on their face.

"Thanks for paying for my clothes."

"Who said so?" Stella grabbed the stylish paper bag from the counter.


"When did I say that?"

"I mean, you didn't say. You signed my receipt. So you'll pay."

"But it's your credit card."


"My gosh, Daphne." She slapped her hand onto her forehead and dragged me out of Ann Taylors.

And I swore the cashier was snickering behind us.

"Come on, it's just clothes." I chased after Stella as she walked briskly towards the bookstore.

Stella was all about books, books and endless books.

While I was all about boys, shopping and more boys.

We were totally different.

But still, we were twins.

"Precisely. It's clothes. That's why I won't pay you." Stella muttered angrily.

I slide my arm over her shoulder.

"Darling, just treat it as an investment." I suggested.

"Clothes are an investment?" Stella glanced up at me, bewildered.

"It's the Dylan trust fund you're investing in." I grinned.

"But you reap the benefits, don't you?" Did I imagine the sourness and jealousy in her voice?

Well, there was nothing much Stella could be jealous about me. She was naturally the prettier, smarter and better-at-everything kind of girl. Except in relationships. So I could bet that she was still pure. Unlike me.

"I can lend you Dylan for a one night stand." I suggested, even though I could never imagine the two of them together.

"Eh. No thanks." She shrugged me off as she picked up a New York bestseller.

"Hey. You're rejecting the benefits."

"This trust fund's benefits suck."

"Ok. Ok, darling. I'll pay. But can you treat me to lunch? I'm broke." I made a face at my empty, branded wallet.

Stella sighed.

I treated that as a yes.

After extorting money from me at a very expensive lunch at the Mexico, Daphne abandoned me.


I walked into Thriftway and a rush of cool air greeted me.

Ah, that was nice.

And I spotted someone.

Ah, that was even nicer.

I picked up a basket and walked towards Dr Hudgens.

The most charming guy on Earth.

Eh. But I was really positive about this.

Unlike Daphne.

She changes boyfriends as though she's changing clothes.

And by the time she's thirty, I bet half of all the American guys have broken hearts.

Thanks to Daphne's quick way of breaking up with guys.

But I don't do that.

And maybe that's why I haven't got a steady boyfriend yet.

Hmm... I pondered over that as I walked towards the diary section.


I loved cheese.

And I loved cheese even more with Dr Hudgens standing next to me, ordering cheese over the counter.

I took a deep breath and breathed in all of his manly scent.


"Hi. Are you Miss Swan?" Hudgens suddenly turned around to face me.

I nearly got the shock of my life.

"Am I supposed to know you?" Even though I knew him.

"Hudgens, remember. Your doctor?"

"Ah, yes." I acted as though realization is finally sinking in.

"So, hi."

"Hi, Hudgens. I'm Swan." This conversation was really cute as we were conversing in last names.

Hudgens snickered.

"So what, buying cheese?"

"Yep." And then I turned to the selection of cheese in front me. That was the reason I was in the supermarket. And not because of Hudgens.

"What's your favourite?"

"Young Dutch cheese." I replied simply.

"You don't fancy the well-known blue cheese?"

"Nah. The flavour's a bit too strong. But it's good."

"I see."

And I turned to the person behind the variety of cheese.

"Give me ten dollars worth of the young Dutch cheese."

"So how's the rash?"

"Eh. Not really improving." Great. So he had seen me in the worst point of my life. Again.

"Hmm... I thought it had become better." And then he lifted his bloody hand to bloody stroke my bloody cheek. Oh my God. Heat rushed up to my cheeks immediately. But then his touch was so gentle, so warm. It was irresistible, just like him.

"Your anti-rash cream sucks." I commented casually.

"Oh. Maybe you'll like to come down to see me again. It'll be free of charge."

The guy handed me my cheese. I thanked him.

"Yeah sure."

"You can give me a call before coming down."

"But I don't have your number."

"You don't?" Oh. Maybe I did have. Was it on my prescription? Or something like that?

"Just key it in for me." I handed him my phone.

"Eh. You changed your phone?" Hudgens asked he typed busily.

How the hell did he know that?

"Yeah." And he gave me back the phone. Ooh. He saved his name as Hudgens.

"So I'll see you around."

"Thanks for everything." I called after him as he walked away.

And then I smiled at myself.

Falling in love was fun.


There was only forty five minutes to go before Daphne's date so she was rushing like some mad cow.

"Fucking asshole," Daphne cussed as she moved her fingers around her hair, trying to find a perfect hairstyle.

"Dylan?" I asked.

"No. Anyway, I'm glad that you're responding. You've been in a daze since yesterday."

"Whatever." But it was true. I had been walking around in a dream-like trance, thinking about Hudgens.

Ooh. I flipped my phone open and stared at his number.

I'll call him soon.

Maybe while Daphne's at her date.

Or maybe not.

I want to prove it to her that I'm capable of getting a guy.

Daphne groaned, waking me from my sea of thoughts.

"Who's the son of the bitch?"

"Bitchy Brian." She finally got her hair in place and whisked her dress up to her shoulders.


Brian used to be Daphne's boyfriend. This apparently was the only reason why he would actually hire Daphne. I hadn't seen Daphne work before but logically, she wasn't the most efficient make-up artist ever. So maybe Daphne tried to hook Brian up in order to get a job. Wow. My sis was such a bitch.

"And what's wrong with him?"

"I was supposed to take a half-day leave today and he then bloody made me to go do make-up for some freaky ballet performance."

"Did you even tell him that you wanted take leave?"

"I was going to tell him when he told me to go work." She admitted sheepishly.

"What time did that happen?"

"Eh. Around eleven in the morning."

"Oh my God. If I was Brain, I wouldn't let you go either."

"Damn it, Stella. Don't you see how important a date is?"

"Yes. I totally understand. That's why you take leave almost every week." In order to go for spas and facials just to look nice for dates.

"That's very smart of you. Anyway, does this look good?" Daphne hitched the neckline up her tits and turned to look at me.

Wow. Daphne actually looked elegant. The dress lay unmoving but then the soft green silk seemed to be flowing down her shoulders all the way to her calves. The off-shoulder part showed off her shiny skin while the silk hugged her figure, showing off the best of her tits.

No wonder it cost one hundred and four bucks.

"Oh my God. You look great."

"Really?" Daphne asked incredulously as she checked her reflection in the mirror.

"Yes, Daphne."

"That's great. Let me get going now. Bye, baby sis." She leaned forward to kiss my forehead.

And there Daphne was gone for her date.

You look very pretty.

You look damn pretty.

You look bloody pretty.

I reminded myself as a construction worker hopped onto the sidewalk and whistled at me.

I was supposed to feel confident and not melt from the sight of Dylan later.

So right now, it was building up self-esteem time.

But all my efforts were all gone when Dylan came.

Oh my God, that bloody hot guy could charm every girl in sight totally.

Or even guys.

Or at least gay ones.

I laughed mentally at that retarded thought.

"Hi Miss Swan, you look gorgeous tonight. Especially your beautiful face." He smiled as though he was remembering some joke.

"You too," I replied, playing with the flap of his jacket flirtatiously.

Dylan smiled nervously.

Ok, maybe I was flirting a bit too early.

"So do you want to order now?" He asked in his silken voice. Three ladies turned their head towards him. One of them was an eighty-year old one.

"Yeah sure." I flipped open the menu and picked out the first thing I see.

"Cheese quiche for me," I said.

"Water cress soup." Dylan passed the waiter our menus and settled his hands under his chin.

"I thought girls were the ones who were supposed to order the low-fat kind of soup while the guys go for high-protein stuff?" I asked, smiling at the irony of our orders.

"Ha-ha. I don't mind cheese." Stella loves cheese too, I added mentally. What was my dear sis doing now? I sighed silently.

"Yeah. I don't mind a diet too. Can't wait to get rid of my fat ass." I joked.

"Actually you have a very sexy and perky ass." Dylan leaned in to whisper in my face.

Oh my God. His manly scent was just too... too...

And I started hyperventilating.

Three seconds later – it actually seemed as though it was three years, sitting down there with Dylan, making the world revolve around us, ah, so sweet. Ok, back to reality – I regained my composure.

"Actually I would take that as an insult. Sexy ass equals to fat ass." I made a face at him.

Dylan laughed.

Oh my God.

His face relaxed into a sensual smile before shaking a little in laughter. I tucked my arms under my chin and watched him, totally mesmerized.


I decided to stop looking at him, drooling.

I'd bet I look as if I was watching porn.

But Dylan was so much sexier than porn.

Imagine all my features wrapped around lust, watching a guy laugh.

That was so stupid.

We chatted a bit more. But until now, he only knew me by my last name and I only knew his first name. Maybe I could dig out a little more information if I was bringing him over to my house tonight. Or maybe back to his house. My heart fluttered at the thought.

"Your food, sir and ma'am."

Hey, I wanted to say to the waiter, I wasn't that old.

"Twenty six isn't that old right?" I asked Dylan as he sipped his soup.

Oh my God. I just told him my bloody age.

And he gave me a weird expression.

What? He thought I was thirty seven years old?


Were my wrinkles showing? Or did I have eye bags? Was my skin crumpling up by the second? I seriously need to check out the cosmetics at Macy's, tomorrow. Buy a whole load of Estee Lauder anti-aging crap. I don't care if it causes me two thousand dollars. I can't look old.

I'm only twenty six years old, for goodness sake.

And then Dylan broke the bloody tense atmosphere by giggling in a very manly way.

"What?" I protested.

"You look as if it's the end of the world tomorrow and that you're freaking out." Dylan snickered between phrases.

I smacked him hard on his upper arm.

Oh my God. Feel those bloody muscles.

I don't even think if I smashed a three hundred pound fat ass on him, would affect him.

Ok. That was exaggerating.

Back to the topic.

"The guy there," I shrieked, pointing at the bloody waiter, "thinks that I'm old. He called ma'am for God's sake!"

"And then you started freaking out as though you were going to lose three million dollars every second from now?"

"Hey. Women want to look young. Plus I don't even have three thousand dollars."

"I should have known." Dylan snickered in between words.


"Because you blast all your money on anti-aging products!"

"Hey!" I smacked him again. "I'm not that old. I don't use anti-aging stuff for people with mid-life crisis," I swore two balding men looked in my direction, "I use whitening and moisturizing crap." I retorted.

"Since it's crap, why do you still use it?" He asked in between mouthfuls of soup.

Oops. And I realized I haven't touched my quiche at all. And I'd better eat it. Cause I'll be paying for this meal. Which will make me broke sooner or later.


This trust fund isn't giving much returns.

Apart from all the retarded laughter.

But it was better than none.

And then I thought of baby sis alone at home.

To call or not to call.

To call or not to call.

To bloody call or not?

Damn it.

I fiddled with the phone in my hand, speculating whether to call Hudgens or not.

Never mind.

I'll call him tomorrow.


Daphne came back at two in the morning.

The sudden banging on the door jolted me from my sleep.

Daphne was my first thought.

And there she was, leaning against the wall.

"Wow. I thought you would have slept over at Dylan's house." I muttered to her as I dragged Daphne onto her bed.

But she was already dozing off.

What the hell?

Exhaustion from too much making love?

I undressed Daphne and dumped her fancy dress in the washing before changing her into a silk night dress and tucked her into bed.

I was already used to this.

Daphne would always come back in the middle of the night or in the early morning after a date.

I sighed.

I wished I had a chance to be like Daphne.

Just that I didn't want any Dylan, Joel or Brian.

I wanted Hudgens.

Oh my God.

I woke up groggily to the bright sunlight and slapped my forehead.

What was the time now?

"Stella!" I called for my sister. Or sometimes to be more accurate, my maid. Ok, nanny, probably. Daphne Swan was a never growing up kid.

Eh. No one answered.

Damn it.

Of course.

It's Monday.

Stella had gone to work.

Leaving me all alone.

At home.


I was going to die of starvation of something like that. Or maybe not. I could just call for a pizza.

Cheered by such thoughts, I managed to drag myself off the bed and into the bathroom . One check in the mirror showed me having a bad hair and skin day. Bloody hell. Yesterday's French plait became a haystack where all my hair pins were gone for good. And my skin was flushed with redness. As if I had downed twenty glasses of Vodka last night.

Actually I almost did.


I totally forgot what had happened yesterday.

Calm down.

Calm down.

Daphne Swan, just bloody calm down!

Wait. Dylan's a nice guy. He couldn't have taken advantage of you. You're happily brushing your teeth in your own bathroom. Then what the hell had happened?

Yeah. Realization sank in slowly.

After dinner last night – a flavour burst combination of French cuisine and entire bottle of champagne – Dylan and I hung out at the nearby bar. Ooh. I was telling him more about me. And I was drinking more than ten glasses of Martini. No wonder I was so bloody drunk.

And then...


Ok. Rewind.

Dylan and I were seated in a private booth, located across the long bar. I was lounging my feet across the sofa, my ankles over Dylan's knees. Wait. What else? Yes. I remembered him licking my calves.

Oh my God.

The sensation started creeping up my legs again.

His hot and wet tongue combined with the tingling feel his touch gave me, it was torturously pleasant.

Bloody hell. What next?

His mouth moved up my legs. It inched past the hem of my dress, pulling the silk all the way my thighs. Yes. He was licking my inner thighs, driving me crazy. The desire to throw him below me and rip his clothes off was burning through me. Yes. I remember all that.

And then, I took his mouth and griped it against my lips. Yes. He was that soft. That warm. That confident. That sweet. I totally loved Dylan. We did a few moments of French kissing before he threw me back onto the sofa, exploring the rest of my body. Luckily, he didn't touch my tits. I would reserve it for him next time. I smiled at those thoughts.

And some bloody phone woke me from my oasis of Dylan.

"Damn it," I muttered, stepping out from the shower naked, reaching for my phone on the nightstand.

"Daphne Swan," Brian barked at the phone, "Where the hell are you?"

Oh gosh.

Today was Monday.

Work day.

Damn it.

What was the time now?

I caught the stupid eleven forty five figure staring at me from the clock in the kitchen.

Bloody hell.

"I'm stuck with some personal matters. Will be there soon, Brian. I promise." I rushed back into the bathroom, pressing the phone between my ear and shoulder as I tried to dry myself with the towel.

"Damn it, Daphne." Brain muttered.

"Yes, handsome?" I'd guess I would have to resort to flirting. Brian was a sucker for girls. Which clearly put me into that category.

"Daphne..." His raspy voice trailed off. I knew that one. The burning-sexual-desire kind of voice.

"Sorry, Brain. I'll make sure I'm come over as soon as possible." If he said yes, I could have lunch with Stella before heading back to the office. Or even stop by Macy's. Yeah. To get the stupid anti-aging products. I chuckled at the memory of yesterday's dinner.

"Sure. See you, Daphne." Brian ended off with a flying kiss. Ugh. I hung up on him and made a disgusted face at the phone.

"Damn Brian. If you weren't my bloody boss, I wouldn't even give you a damn!" I screamed at the phone before sending it reeling against my carpeted floor.

Much as I detested work, I still had to. So I quickly put on a light pink sweater and white tennis skirt. Happily, I hung my Channel bag onto my wrists and walked out happily in my new heels.

Ooh. I scrolled down the contact list in my phone and stopped at S.

I only had Steph and Stella under S so I managed to call my sis quickly.

"Daphne," Stella began in a reproving tone.

I sighed.

Most of the times, there was a mix up of responsibilities. Usually the older girl would the responsible, smart and pretty one. That's was just too Stella-ish. And the baby sis was the spoilt one, the one with a soft spot of Gucci and Guess and the totally-don't-know-how-to-support-herself type. And that's was yours sincerely, Daphne Swan.

So I guess, I had never been much of a good older sis.

Stella was much better at it than me.

"Hey. Stella. I just woke up, care to go out for lunch with me?" I ignored her tone and started in a chirpy voice.

"Darling. It's twelve now. You just bloody woke up?"

"A bit of hangover last night." I admitted sheepishly as I started the engine of my Ford Fiesta. I would love to buy a Porsche. Yeah right. Who doesn't. As long as you have money, you can have everything. I smiled at that thought. Dylan.

"A bit." Stella sounded sarcastic. I mean, she was sarcastic right?

"Just come out for lunch. I want to tell you everything about last night." I pleaded.

"Sis, don't you have to work?" Stella protested.

"I told Bryan after lunch."

I heard the slapping of her forehead over the line.


"Fine. I'll meet you at the Japanese restaurant."

"Thanks Stella."

"Bye sis."

And I hung up on her, whistling all the way to the shopping mall.

Multiple personality disorder.

I swept across my keyboard and my screen returned results within seconds.

A neurosis in which the personality becomes dissociated into two or more distinct parts each of which becomes dominant and controls behaviour from time to time to the exclusion of the other parts.


Even though I was doctor, I still needed confirmation on that.

I strolled down looking at the symptoms of the illness, severity, and help that could be found.


The Swan girl probably could have multiple personality disorder.

I mean, she just called me in a nice, sweet tone asking if she could come down after work for an appointment for her rash. But then I just saw her yesterday, with her skin sparkling just like her green silk dress. And the day before with the hand phone incident.

Apart from the looks, she acted differently too.

Yesterday she behaved like a sex cat. Her lips were irresistible, her kisses were overly passionate, and her skin was so nice to touch.

Yet the Miss Swan that I just talked to behaved like some goodie English girl.


I had a liking for a girl with multiple personality disorder.

And hey, was the disorder contagious.


But then, it was already driving me crazy.

And then my telephone beeped. I put it onto speaker mode as I started to read more on the mental disorder.

"Dr Hudgens, you can go for lunch already. There are no more patients." Megan, the nurse, chimed from the other end of the line.

I thanked her and got out of my eat.

And I desperately needed to solve the mystery behind the Swan girl tonight.

Probably check her out at my house.

Ooh. That sounded like a perfect idea to me.

You got distinctions for your exams.

You got a superb job in a good accountancy firm.

You got a way of dealing everything.

Almost everything.

Well, I rocked at everything – from cooking to singing to working – everything, except for relationships.

Damn it.

And now I was walking towards Dr Hudgens' office.

For my appointment.

Oh my God.

My heart stuttered and picked up in double speed as the nurse called my name out.

I dragged my heavy feet and light heart towards Dr Hudgens.

Damn it.

Damn, damn it.

And then all my curses vanished into thin air as Hudgens' charming face appeared.

"Afternoon, Miss Swan. Take a seat, please." He smiled a heart-breaking smile. Oh my God.

"Thanks Hudgens, for doing all this. I really appreciate it." Yeah. I really appreciate all the time I'm spending with him.

"Move a little closer. Let me take a better look of your rash." He added with a flirtatious smile.

Did he really wanted to examine my face or take a closer look into my cleavage?

I pulled up my tank top, covering my tits, before leaning across the table.

And I thought I saw his lips puckered in disappointment.

"Hmm..." His fingers probed lightly on my irritated skin. But it was a soft, cool touch. And I loved it.

"It isn't that bad right?"

"Maybe I'll let you try another cream. No more antibiotics this time." He leaned back, smiling.

I sighed.


"I hate swallowing pills. They suck." And I made a face.

"Ha-ha. You're twenty six and then you have no idea how to swallow a pill."

How the hell did he know my age?

"How do you know my age? You didn't even peek at my medical records. Plus, I can swallow a pill. Just give me a litre of water and twenty minutes."

"You told me your age, remember?" He looked at me as though I was senile or retarded.

"Ah... Yeah." Even though my eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Anyway, are you free now? You're the last patient of the day. Want to go out again?" His lips pulled into a honey-sweet smile.

Imagine kissing that.

That sent tingles down my inner thighs.

Oh my God.

I'm sexually attracted to him.

Damn it.

But on the other hand, there's nothing wrong with that.

Dr Hudgens was so sweet, kind, charming and marvellously,


"Count me in." As long as he didn't bring me to the pub with a gang load of soccer friends, I would be more than happy to spend with him.


This Swan girl was not only suffering from multiple personality disorder, she was also senile. She couldn't even remember the fuss she made about her age over dinner.

And yet I still liked her.

The one side of her was seductive, extremely sexy and hilarious. I remembered all her jokes last night. And her lips against mine.

The other side of her was sweet, loving and pretty. I loved this goodie little girl.

Maybe today I'll get an insight in to this sweet girl.

The thought of it already made my dick uneasy in my pants.

"So what do you work as?" Hudgens asked.

"Accountant. Anyway, what do you want to do now?"

What did I want to do now?

I wanted to take the Swan girl back to my house and ravish her for the rest of the night.

I wanted to bring the Swan girl back to her house and organise a French kissing marathon.

I wanted to bring the Swan girl to any damned place in the world to make love to her.

Oh my God.

Those stupid horny thoughts made the dick in my pants throb uneasily.

Seems like I had no choice.

I needed this Swan girl.

And then a small voice in my head said: Damn it, ask her for her name. 'the swan girl' sounds so retarded.

Yeah right.

And apart from that, I would ask her to spend the night with me.


I can. I will.

And I must.

Go Dylan Hudgens, you can do it!

"Why don't we take a walk first. Since the night is still young." I suggested, grinning.

"Yeah sure." Swan shook her head and wrung out her hair.

She looked so pretty and natural when I did that.

And her other self never did that, she always ran the fingers through her curls till they were immaculate.

I wondered what will happen to me if I face two different personalities every day. Would that drive me up the wall?

Who cared about that? Now, I just needed to feel her lips against mine and hold her tight.

Yes, Dylan Hudgens.

Go for it.

"Miss Swan," I said her name sweetly.

She turned to face me.

And so I leaned it to touch her lips.

"Oh my God." Stella chimed.

I heard a soft thud followed by a dull crash.

Damn it.

Stella had moved away when I leaning towards her, making me lose my balance and crash into the wall.

Bloody hell.

This brick wall was sure damn hard.


I pulled myself away from the wall and rubbed my forehead in circular motion.

"Hudgens!" Stella called out, rushing to my side.

"Oh my God. What happened to you? Are you alright?" She continued a stream of concerns. Plus she looked damn cute fussing me about. Her worried stare, her nervous expression and those teasing lips.

"Hey. Don't freak out. I'm a doctor. I can handle this. It's just a bruise. No big deal, Swan." I calmed her down and pushed her slender arms away.

"I think it's damn cute that we call each other by last names."

"Me too." I just can't imagine how sexy her first name would sound like.

"Anyway, I insist that you come over to my house. The bump looks pretty bad, you know."

Much as I knew that I was alright, I really wanted to go to her house.

And spend the night there.

Ugh. I was so horny.

I slapped myself. In the face.

"Damn it. You see? You're going crazy. You're slapping yourself!" Swan chimed. So adorable.

"Ha-ha. I'm a mental patient. Send me to the Swan mental hospital then." I teased.

"Yeah right." Swan rolled her eyes.

And then she dragged me across the road.

I turned the knob and pushed open the door.

Hudgens flipped the lights on.

"Make yourself at home. I'll go get a towel and warm water for you." I smiled at Hudgens.

What the hell was I doing? Thoughts started to flood my mind as I walked to the kitchen because I was finally free from Hudgens. And was able to think straight. On the way back home, I was just imagining how nice would it be to kiss him on the lips, feel our hips rocking together and his teasing breath over my tank top. I was being bloody horny.

But it felt really nice.

Really nice that Hudgens is sitting on my sofa now.

The water boiled quickly after I washed the towels. I mixed the boiling water with cool water and brought it to Hudgens.

"Here you go." He was examining my photos.

Luckily I didn't have any of Daphne's photos in the living hall. I was afraid that he would fall in love with my prettier and more capable – ok, cancel that – sister.

There were only my deceased dad,

And runaway mom.

"This lady is as pretty as you. Is she your mom?" Hudgens asked as he dipped the towel into the water.

"Yeah." And I gave his the stop-asking vibes.

He understood me and kept quiet. I sat down next to him.

"Argh." He struggled with dabbing his forehead.

"Aren't you a doctor?" I smiled.

"The nurses do it for me." He protested. I snatched the towel away from him.

"Spoilt brat and failure doctor." I teased, dabbing lightly on the slight bump on his head. Hudgens winced a little.

"Painful?" I asked.

"Not really. But I think I must have hit my head on one of the central nerves so when pressure..." He rattled off his science language like a machine gun.

"Ok, ok. Stop the lecture." I put up my hand.

He chuckled.

"Can you answer my question?" I asked after a few moments of blissful silence.

"Depends." I hated that kind of replies.

"What the hell were you trying to do? I don't really think you could smash your head into the bloody wall just like that."

"Erm. Well... I was trying to kiss you." He admitted, blushing a little.

Oh my God.

Hudgens wanted to kiss me.

"But you failed." I teased, pursing me lips. How I wished he succeeded. I didn't mind making out on the sidewalk.

"Yeah. Who asked you to dodge to pick up your wallet?" He pouted too.

"Since you didn't succeed, then kiss me now." I wondered if that was a request or a demand. But I wanted Hudgens badly.

"You asked for it." Hudgens smiled that crooked smile again. It made it look so seductive. And I loved it.

"Bring it on, baby."

And then he leaned in once more.

And he succeeded.

It was so perfect.

His lips were so soft yet strong against mine. So hot and flavourful.

I kissed him back, putting in all my emotions into it. It was so enthusiastic and passionate.

He flicked his tongue over my upper lip, licking me before forcing my lips apart and devouring inside. Our tongues intertwined. I licked all over his gums, getting a playback of dinner.

In the meantime, Hudgens had firmed his grip over my waist before pulling me onto his lap. I obliged, sliding my ass in between his legs. Oh my God. My crotch was so damn near his erection. Anticipation swelled in my veins.

My lips slid down his wet lips and chewed on the collar of his shirt. Hmmm... He started love-biting the back of my neck. Oh my God. It felt so good.

"You're going to spoil my shirt." He warned as he ran his fingers through my hair and licking the nape of my neck.

I chuckled, pulling away.

And then I decided to be the aggressive one.

I pulled Hudgens by the collar and slammed his back down onto the sofa. He seemed to like it. Even though he didn't open his eyes. I crawled back onto him and worked the way up his shirt, tugging at the hems, before revealing a wonderful body. My fingers trailed over his perfect muscles.

I kissed his abs, sending him shivering in pleasure.

"No fair, Swan. You have to take your shirt off too." Hudgens complained when I had ripped his shirt off and flung it in the direction of the kitchen.

"No way, Hudgens."

"Evil girl."

I chuckled, letting my hot breath condensate on his chest.


"Let me taste you at least," He started whining again.

I snickered, inching up his body and offering my chest to him.

"That's my girl..." Hudgens sighed.

"Just shut up and enjoy me." I protested.

His tongue trailed over the love bits he left there before moving it down, down. Oh my God. He was still two inches till my tits and I was already moaning.

Damn it.

I was too attracted to him already.

He licked over my chest, savouring the taste of my perspiration before working down, down, down. But his hands moved faster his lips. Using his strong hands, he cupped my tits as though he was afraid that I would run away. But I liked it. I threw my arms around his neck, leaning closer to him, our bodies separated only by a line.

His tongue was trailing over the top of my tits when...

The bloody phone rang.

"La, la, la, la, Daphne's world. La, la, la, la, Daphne's world." I sang to the tune of Elmo's world as I walked up the porch.

I'd just finished buying nearly the entire range of Clinique facial products and tons of moisturizer. Dylan will have nothing to complain the next time. Speaking of which, he hasn't called me back after the hot make-out session we shared.

Did that mean that he wasn't interested in me anymore?

What? He didn't like my kissing skills?

He thought that I didn't have fabulous tits or body, whatever?

Humph. Maybe he just got a new girl.

So fickle-minded. Just like me. I smiled.

Then, I inserted the key and the door creaked open.

"Stell-" I was about to call out for my twin and then,

What the fuck.

Stella had her arms wrapped around some guy as the guy landed hot kisses on his neck. Actually I was surprised that Stella brought her boyfriend back for a make-out session. Ooh. Maybe it wasn't the first time.

And then, the guy craned his head out of Stella's tangle of hair and muttered so loud that I could hear.

"No fair. You have to take off your shirt too."

I recognized that voice.

And of course I bloody recognized that guy.

It was Dylan!

What the hell was Dylan doing?

Half-naked, making out with my sister on the sofa, in my house.

Ok. Not my house, but still?

Why Dylan?

And why Stella?

Damn it.

I closed the door and ran out of the house.

"Bloody hell," Dylan muttered, his hot breath warming up my tits.

Oh my God. How I wished we could just continue. He was so damn close. And why did the bloody phone had to ring?


Reluctantly, I pulled away from him and snatched the phone from the table.

"Hello?" I rasped. Wow. It sounded as though I just finished making love and not making out.

"Stella?" Eh. Daphne sounded weird. What? Crying over the demise of Dylan?

"Yeah what's up?"

"Are you at home now?"

"Yeah." Of course I am. I was kissing the most charming guy on Earth when you had to break it all up.

"Oh. I'm coming back soon. Can you cook something for me. I'm famished."

"Damn it. You called just to ask this?" Damn it. She spoiled the entire mood.

"Yes. What else?"

"Nothing then."

"See you... in ten minutes." Damn it. Ten minutes to get rid of Hudgens?

"Eh. Sure. Bye!" And I hung up on her.

"Damn it man, who the hell was that?" Hudgens sounded very irritated.

"My sister, Daphne."

When she said her sister's name, I realized that she hadn't told me her first name yet.

"Can we do it all over again?" I pleaded. I loved how her soft skin felt under my hands, her lips against mine, and her tits under my fingers.

"My sis is coming back in ten minutes." She protested.

"Please? Just a little while?" I unleashed all my charm onto her.

She made a face and then jumped back onto the couch.

This time no one was on top. We snuggled close, side by side. Swan threw her arms around my neck, kissing my eyelids while my fingers hovered over her chest while kissing her shoulders. Hmm... Her touch was so soft and so gentle.

When our lips brushed across each other, I suddenly rasped.

"What the hell is your name?" Then we had a long, sensual, passionate kiss for more than half a minute, before she pulled away, gasping for air.

"Stella. Stella Swan." She replied in a hoarse, sex cat voice. Ooh.

"I love that name." I whispered, caressing her waist.

"What is your name then?" Stella asked, in between the enthusiastic short French kisses.

"That's a secret." I whispered against her upper lip.

"Unfair, you bastard." Her hot breath above my chest made me want to die out of pleasure. Damn it. Why did Stella Swan had to be so attractive? To stir up my sexual desire?

"Ow. That hurts. You want to know my name, come over to my house tomorrow then." I tempted her by planting a long sensual kissing in between her parted lips while pressing my chest against her tits.

Hmm... She moaned. I loved to hear that. And wouldn't it be better if it were screams of orgasms?

Wow. Just wow. And I'd guess I just have to wait till tomorrow.

Unless she wanted now.

"Damn it, Hudgens. It's more than a minute already." She pushed me away and fell to the floor.

I snickered before helping her up.

"You want me to get lost?" I tried to sound sad as I kissed her forehead.

"Yeah right. My sis is coming back in two minutes." And she made a face at me.

"Sure. I'll see you tomorrow." I started shrugging into my crumpled shirt.


"I'll pick you up from your house, at seven." I teased her cheeks as I spoke.

"See you, Hudgens."

And she closed the door on me.

Oh my God.

One and a half more minutes to go.

I rearranged the cushions on the couch, making it neat while trying to iron the couch with my bare hands. Then, I emptied the water and threw the towel into washing. All my memories of Hudgens.

Fifty seconds.

I started boiling some water and dumped some pasta into the pot.

Three more seconds.

I chopped up the mushrooms.

And Daphne arrived at the door. As usual, laden with shopping bags.

"Stella!" And she was wearing the shock expression as though she was anticipating something that happened to be so anti-climax.

"Daphne, I'm still making your pasta so hold on."

"Sure, baby sis. Anyway, have you seen Dylan before?" Daphne asked.

"Eh. No. Why would I?" All I cared about was Hudgens. And not Dylan.

"Just wondering. Because I'm going on a date with him tomorrow night." She said it louder than usual, as if she was trying to make me jealous of something. Ugh. Daphne was weird today. Shopping must have driven her crazy.

"Uh-huh. That's good. So I won't be cooking anyway." I'll be enjoying a candlelight dinner with my prince charming. The thought of it already steamed up the kitchen.

"You're going out?"

"Nah." I wasn't going to tell Daphne all about Hudgens. Just in case, she goes all gaa-gaa over him. And naturally, guys would pick the more cheerful girl. Which was not me. And I know I'm being selfish, but love is selfish.

Oh my God. Love? I was talking about love? But loving Hudgens would a wonderful thing.


What the fuck was Stella talking about?

She said she didn't see Dylan.

But she was bloody kissing him.

What the hell?

Why was Stella lying?

Is it because she wanted Dylan to herself?

Maybe Dylan wanted me. Maybe he came up to the house – he didn't know my address, but still, he could do that – and then he is greeted by the exact replica of me. So he thinks that is me. And Stella is so charmed by him that they end up kissing and hugging on the couch.

I bit on my lip as I tossed and turned on the bed.


Stella couldn't be that bad.

Maybe it was my eyes.

Probably it was someone else.


It wasn't.

I was positive it was Dylan whatever-his-last-name-is.

But then Stella was a nice, responsible, kind, forgiving, selfless girl.


She couldn't have just stolen Dylan away from me like that.

Damn it.

I flipped onto my right side for the four thousandth time already.

After immersing my thoughts for the next hour, I finally fell asleep.

But then my dream was all about Dylan kissing Stella.


It couldn't be.


"Morning Justin," I greeted my work partner chirpily as I placed my cheese muffin onto my table.

"Wow. Someone's in a good mood, huh?" Justin eyed me suspiciously, taking a bite of my muffin. I slapped his fingers away. Marion, two tables away from me, giggled.

"Yep. That's why I didn't kill you for stealing my breakfast."

"Whatever. Someone's got a date, huh?" Marion teased. I picked up my muffin and started chewing.

I nodded a little, hoping that they wouldn't notice and let go of the topic.

"Wow. Wow. Wow. Who's that lucky guy?" Marion pursued.

"My doctor?" Justin burst out, laughing.

"Damn it, Justin. At least, he knows how to do something." This time I really smacked him hard on the back of his head. Marion covered her mouth and chuckled.

"I can do something. I can attract girls." Justin retorted.

"You can attract girls?" Marion blurted out. And then we looked at each other and chimed together in laughter.

Justin made a face at us.

"I can attract girls, especially pretty ones, like Stella and her sister." Justin dropped his voice to a low, husky one, eyeing us with half-closed eyes.

"Damn it, Zachery is going to kill us if we don't do our work." I broke the hysterical of giggles before going back to nibble on my muffin.

Today was starting out so great, I couldn't expect what tonight would turn out to be.

"Daphne, Alicia is not here today. You'll take over her duties for the afternoon local news. Nat, you take the night broadcast." Brian ordered us around as I slumped my way back into my work cubicle.

Damn it.

I woke up late today, skipped breakfast – I was going to get bloody gastric soon and die -, came to work late and now our heavy-duty make-up artist was on medical leave. And I will have to work through lunch hour. Bloody hell. I was starving already.

"Daphne, can you check out the colour scheme for the J Crew advertisement?" Brian shouted from his office.

Damn, damn it.

Couldn't that bloody bastard see that I was damn busy – sorting out the blushers, while in another half an hour, I have to rush to the other side of Seattle to do make-up for some sickening news broadcaster? And that Brian actually dared to pile some more work on me.

Why couldn't I be enjoying at America's best beaches, letting the cool breeze ruffle my hair as I flip through the latest copies of Vogue – speaking of which, I haven't bought the April version yet – while sitting on a deck chair. And Dylan would be next to me, whispering honey-sweet words while trying to undo my bikini.

Hell. Dylan wasn't mine anymore. Dylan was Stella's. And I had to bloody fight for my rights.

My rights for Dylan.

And so what if today seriously sucked, I'll make the best out of it.

I finished my work quickly so Zachery allowed to leave twenty minutes earlier. Justin and Marion wished me good luck for my date and there was I, Stella Swan on her way to a fabulous date with the hottest guy on Earth, Hudgens.

Speaking of which, I must get his bloody first name by today.

I drove my borrowed Porsche – from my dear dad – all to way to Stella Swan's house. I walked up the porch and rang the bell.

"Oh my God! Hudgens, wait. Argh! One minute!" Stella shouted from inside and I heard the clatter of plates. I covered my mouth and giggled inconspicuously. I could totally not imagine her rushing in and out of the house, breaking things. After all, she was the nice, kind, sweet girl who got everything done proper.

Astonishingly, seven seconds later, she opened the door and appeared in her most glamorous form. No dress, but still, she looked damn well hot in a black spaghetti straps over black shorts and her dark-brown hair combed up nicely by a wide white hair band. Her shoes looked pretty too. Not the type of Prada heels. Just plain white ballet flats.

"Stella, you're bloody pretty today." I bent down, picking up her hand, kissing her fingertips before handing her a bouquet of roses I ordered this morning.

"Thank you, you look pretty stunning too," Stella complimented me, while her cheeks turned scarlet. Ooh. I didn't know I could look Chase Crawford in a dark blue sweater and black jeans.

"Do you want to for dinner and straight back to my house?" I would love to see her on my bed as soon as possible. After all, I had been salivating since last time while I was so close to her cleavage. Why waste time having dinner?

"Anything." But I could see lust clouding up her eyes. She wanted the second option.

And I was damn well proud of her.

"Then we'll go for dinner then." I acted innocently, leading her down the porch steps.

Stella's eyes coloured disappointment at once.

"Ha-ha. Just joking. Let's go to my house now!" I pinched her cheeks teasingly while I swung her up by hitting the back of her knees and she rested comfortably in the cradle of my arms.

"Damn it, Hudgens. You're one evil guy." She tinkled a sweet laugh as I ran all the way back to the Porsche.

"Buckle up because I'm going to drive so fast." Hudgens warned as he settled inside the front seat of the Porsche.

"Do you want to get a speeding ticket?" I teased him, settling my pouch on my thighs.

"A speeding ticket is worth it. I want you in my room as quickly as possible." Was I imagining it or was Hudgens really saying that he wanted me? Or was it just out of lust?

I looked into his eyes. They were so pure, so sincere and loving. That was the kind of guy that I liked.

"Impatient man." I grumbled, buckling up as he started the engine. The car purred as it lunged forward.

"So what's on the agenda tonight?" Hudgens asked he twisted the steering wheel and turned onto the next avenue.

"I don't know, doctor."

"Hmm... I think we're going to have dinner," I was damn sure that my eyes crinkled up in disappointment again, "And you are on the menu." Hudgens purred in a raspy voice.

"Oh my God. How are you going to cook me?" I asked sarcastically.

"I'm going to eat you raw. And you're going to taste so damn marvellous." He took his eyes off the road to sweep his lips across my bare shoulders.

"Damn it, Hudgens. I don't want to crash into a traffic light even before we get to your house."

"Don't worry. We've already reached." He smiled.

Wow. His house was damn big and nice.

"You don't own this house, do you?" I asked sceptically as he helped me out of his Porsche.

"Don't worry, Stella. I've bought mom and dad opera tickets and booked a table at the Mexico."

"Filial son, huh?" I teased.

"Not really, I just want the entire house to ourselves." He smiled my favourite seductive crooked smile.

Then, he scooped me up and ran all the way into his bedroom.

The next minute, Hudgens already had my top off and he was only dressed in his boxers.

"Hmm..." He moaned, rolling on top of me, caressing my ass as he moved his lips to kiss the nape of my neck.

"What is your name?" I asked for the third time as I plastered my hands onto his brawny back as wrapped my thighs around his hips.

He moaned again as he tried to ravish me.

I licked under his chin and kissed him lightly on his lips. But then, he wanted something more. Hudgens pulled the sides of my face towards him, licking the corners of my mouth before whipping his tongue to intertwine with mine. I moaned with great pleasure, tilting my head as he moved his tongue out of my mouth and moved to caress my neck. Oh my God.

"Are you ready, darling?" He breathed onto the top of my bra.

I nodded, unable to speak.

I arched my back, letting him slid his fingers to undo the back of my bra and flinging it aside. Surprisingly, he couldn't be bothered with my tits and moved straight on to remove my shorts and knickers.

"Damn it, Hudgens, you're so impatient." I complained, as I dug my nails into his shoulder as he pulled my knickers down to my ankles.

"Ugh. Hudgens sound so stupid, I realized."

"Then tell me your real name." I suggested, a wry smile playing on my lips.

He leaned back onto me, French kissing for another moment or two, his fingers teasing my tits, until he pulled away.

"Stella, my name is Dylan. Dylan Hudgens." He rasped before, moving in for the kill.

It was the best night I'd ever had.


Dylan Hudgens was one impressive man.

My nails finally relaxed. I finally stopped screaming. Dylan moved his bloody erection out of me and rolled over to my side. Just like me, he was already perspiring like hell. Damn it. I bet I had lost more calories tonight than Daphne's entire week of gym routine.

The sex had been so passionate, so hot, so good that I didn't want to stop.

Now both of us were breathing laboriously, half-sleeping side by side.

Dylan broke the silence first.

"Care for a drink?"

I nodded, too breathless to speak.

Dylan got off the bed, kissed me on my forehead and left the door slightly ajar before going downstairs.

Then, it was bloody realization that hit me hard in the gut.

My Dylan Hudgens.

Daphne's Dylan.

It wasn't too much of a coincidence, right?

I mean, Dylan Hudgens and Daphne's boyfriend were too different person.

Yes. They had to be.

I flipped onto my right side and a photo on Dylan's nightstand caught my attention. Dylan with his mom and dad. His mom looked bloody familiar. Who the hell was that? I committed that photo to memory as Dylan strolled into the room naked, carrying two wine glasses and a large bottle of Vodka.

"Hey darling." Dylan handed me a glass of Vodka. I downed it in two gulps. He chuckled and poured me another one.

"Very thirsty?" He teased, another of his seductive smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah. You totally got me so worked out and dehydrated." I teased back, chuckling as I handed him back another empty glass.

"You're so good in bed I didn't want to stop." I blushed.

"You too," I swore his cheeks turned scarlet too.

"Here's to being such a great girl," Dylan refilled my glass and offered me a toast.

I smiled as the glass tinkled. This time I just took a sip of the refreshing yet scorching Vodka.

Dylan ordered pizza and we chatted about work over dinner, half-naked on the bed. The guy – of course – complained when I wanted to put on my knickers and bra.

"Humph." He had complained as he helped me with the clasp reluctantly. Dylan was still so cute was he was angry. The way his soft pink lips pouted was so attractive.

"The pizza is good," I had ignored him, letting the cheese drip onto my lips.

"Oh really. Let me show you how much better I taste," Dylan pushed away the box of pizza and bottle of Vodka onto the nightstand and started ravishing me even before I could protest.

Sex ended at three o'clock in the morning when Dylan whispered 'I love you' into my ears and started dozing off.

I love him, didn't I?

But a small voice in my head chanted, No you can't love him, Stella.

And for some reason, I believed it .

Stella was the worst sister ever on Earth.

How could she do that to me?

Dylan carried her in his arms all the way to his Porsche. I followed the car. Dylan carried Stella all the way into his house. I stood outside to wait. And through the faint shadows from his room, I could see Dylan tearing his clothes off. I couldn't stand it anymore.

I cursed and stomped away.

Bloody hell.

I was going to snatch Dylan away from Stella, no matter what.

I woke up the next morning, only to find Dylan still sleeping soundly next to me. His hair was plastered to his sweaty forehead as he mumbled subconsciously in his sleep. I leaned down to kiss him gently on his cheeks. Dylan stirred and woke up, rubbing his eyes.

"Stella, you stayed!" He smiled like a child and wrapped his arms around my neck.

"Of course. I couldn't afford a cab in the middle of the night," I rolled my eyes.

"Ha-ha. I love you, Stella." He propped himself up and kissed me on my eyelids.

"I love you too," I craned my neck upwards, aiming my lips onto his. Once Dylan had gotten the hint, he kissed back furiously and started caressing my bare chest.

"Darling, I've got to go now." I rasped in between hot, wet kisses. Dylan pushed me back onto the bed and kissed me for a long moment before letting me go. I hopped off the bed and slid my clothes on.

"Damn it, I'm missing you already," Dylan teased as I picked up my clutch.

"You're exaggerating, you loser. Anyway, are your parents back?" I kept my eyes on Dylan as I brushed my hair.

"Crap." He stole a glance at the alarm clock before slamming it down. "Damn, they're having lunch now."


"Stella, it's one in the afternoon." Dylan relaxed into a teasing smile as he got out of bed.

I slapped my forehead with my palm.

"Come on, let me get you out of this place." He smiled sweetly as he put his boxers and a loose shirt on.

We were acting like secret agents as we slid down the stairs, hoping to avoid Mr and Mrs Hudgens and their lunch hour. We were nearly there – just two feet away from the front door – when Mrs Hudgens suddenly stepped out of the dining room.


"Dylan? It's time for lunch already. And oh, who -" Mr Hudgens began in a crisp, familiar voice.

"Bloody hell. Stella, just get out." Dylan let go of my hands and whispered in my ears.

I nodded and took off after a bye to Dylan's mom.

"Dylan?" Mom began in a reproving tone.

I just shrugged.

"Patricia?" Dad walked out of the dining room too. Damn it. Double doom.

"Would you like to tell me who was that girl?" Patricia continued.

I'd just had to lie.

"Eh. She was, you know, co-worker. We were discussing about some stuff…" I struggled with my hand actions.

"And the opera tickets?" Patricia hinted.

"We would like the entire house to ourselves when we're discussing…" Dad stifled a smile during my excuses. He must have seen through me.

"Uh-huh… And you two landed in bed until one?" Patricia didn't seem to believe me. Well, I never got into my drama in high school, probably, that's the reason why.

"There was a lot to be done. And…. We were like bloody tired." I shrugged. Dad chuckled and stood up.

"Way to go, son." He patted my shoulder and lounged back into the dining room. Damn.

"The truth?" Patricia asked.

"Yup. Stella's my girlfriend." I explained.

"Should have known, Dylan. Your acting sucks." Patricia kissed my cheek and chuckled too.

I made a face.

"Come on, let's have lunch. You must be hungry after all that making love."

"Actually, I'd rather go bring Stella back home first, Pat."

"Ha-ha. Take a look. He's abandoning the old ones for his girlfriend already." Dad mocked, choking slightly on his steak.

I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth to protest.

"Don't care about him, he's all rubbish. Go fetch your girlfriend, what's her name again?"

I smiled widely. "Stella Swan." I pecked swiftly on Patricia's forehead and skipped out of the house.

I had noticed that Patricia had somewhat frozen next to Dad after my cheerful goodbye but my mind was too preoccupied with other stuff that I couldn't be bothered.

Wait. I'd just had too many impending problems on my neck now.

One by one, I said to myself as I waited on the hood of the Porsche.

First things first, Dylan Hudgens.

I wasn't entirely sure about this. I just had this bad, bad feeling that he might be Daphne's boyfriend too. A two-timer? Probably. But then we were twins too. Could he have mistaken me for Daphne?

Oh great. I was a substitute for my older sister.

Next, Mrs Hudgens.

The bloody person on Dylan's nightstand who happens to be his mom looks really familiar. I remember those dark blue eyes and the faint crinkle smile across her face. But who is she? She couldn't just be any random person I met on the road. She seems as though she knows me very well. But who is she?

With these impending problems breathing onto me, I hardly realized that Dylan was calling for me.

"Stella dear!" Hmm… He called me Stella. So he couldn't have known Daphne right? Or not.

"Dylan." I fell straight into his arms and he kissed my hair.

"Hmm… Come on, let's get you home." He started to help me into his car and drove off.

"Did you get hell out from your mom?" I teased, playing his muscular arm.

"Ha-ha. No. Patricia's very nice." Dylan relaxed into a smug smile.


Now we're getting somewhere.

"What's your mom's full name?" I asked. Pretty random, Dylan must have thought.

"Eh. Patricia Winger? Oh. And do you want to have lunch with me? Patricia's cooked steak for lunch. Yuck." Dylan continued rambling, oblivious that I was totally frozen in my seat. The thudding rhythm of my fingers on Dylan's upper arm also stopped.

Patricia Winger.

Of course.

Why hadn't I thought of that?


Even though Daphne had been the older sister all along, people would usually treat me as the older one because I would seem more mature and taller than Daphne. That's because Daphne had never taken care of me before. Ever since the loss of my two parents, it had been me running the entire family all along.

Dad died when Daphne and I turned fifteen.

I remembered the deep rumbling of the thunder behind the dark, menacing clouds and how flashes of lightning threatened to tear my life apart. Daphne and I were strolling happily across the road, giggling as we shared the umbrella, getting wet at the same time. Mom was beckoning us to walk faster before we were drenched from the porch of our house. Then, I heard Dad calling out.

"Girls!" I still remembered his deep, husky, authoritative voice. It had never failed to make me feel at ease. Except for the last time I heard my Dad.

"Daddy!" We turned around immediately and posed with our umbrella, trying to act-cute. I could also hear Mom's faint laughter from the house.

"Daddy's coming." Dad grinned and took a step forward.

I wished he had never done that.

A red Volkswagen flew past the road, ramming into Dad before sending him flying ten feet above the ground.

"Douglas!" Mom had screamed. It was full of hurt, sadness and reluctance.

Dad had already landed on the wet road with a dull thud. The Volkswagen had just skidded past though the hood had been badly damaged already.

"Daddy!" Daphne and I screamed in unison, as we dropped our bags and umbrella, rushing forward.

A whitish blue flash of lightning tore the sky once more, splitting a young spruce nearby. The deafening thunder that followed drowned my voice.

"Daddy!" I had screamed my lungs out, as I patted furiously against the bleeding in his head. Daphne was crying already. She was afraid of blood. And yet, she was lying on Dad's bloody shirt.

"Douglas! Someone call the ambulance. Now!" Mom screamed, terrified as she hugged Dad's head towards her chest.

My neighbours began streaming out of their houses to check out the commotion. Everyone there did something. Everyone except for me. I just knelt there, staring at my Dad. The most wonderful Dad ever. I saw how his blood had been flowing out, how had his life been draining out, how had all his smiles been fading out. No. Dad. No.

Dad managed to open for his bloodshot eyes for a second, mutter my name before lapsing back into unconsciousness again.

My mom, my sister and I screamed after the paramedics, demanding to know about my father's conditions as we all loaded into the ambulance.

No. I remembered clasping my fingers together onto my knee, praying hard that my Dad wouldn't die. That he would just be hospitalized and we can still remain as happy forever.

Dad didn't die. Doctors just said that there was a blood clot in his brain and he had broken a few ribs and his legs. I had thanked God. Mom was also muttering something with her eyes closed. Daphne just plastered her face against the window of Dad's ward.

But my hope was short-lived. Dad became brain dead seven hours later. And was dead by the next morning.


That was a past that Daphne and I never spoke about.

It was too dark a memory to even think about.

Now, recalling about it, I gripped the sides of my seat as Dylan waited for my answer.

"Lunch together?" He prompted again.

I cleared my throat. I wasn't even sure that I could speak.

"No, thanks. I've got to feed my sister." I mumbled, my voice so soft that I couldn't even hear myself.

"Stella, are you alright?" Dylan must have sensed my fear so he reached his fingers to touch my cold wrist.

"Hmm… I'm just a little too tired."

"Ha-ha. I think we over-worked last night." Dylan stifled a giggle as he pulled up in front of my house.

"Bye. See you."

"Bye dear." He kissed my eyelids and I stepped out of the car.

After waving goodbye, I stumbled back home.

Patricia Winger.

That name chanted in my head time and again as I inserted the key into the lock.

"Sis?" I called out. No response.

Thankful for the absence of my obnoxious sister, I ran into my room and fished a key out from my undergarment compartment. Griping the key in my hand, I quickly ran up to the attic and opened up a box I'd never expected open ever again. Or even touch. I had wanted to burn it. But it held painful memories that even fire could burn.

The cover of the box opened with a screeching sound. I wrenched all the photographs out and flung the ornamental box away.

The first picture: Happy Swan family when I was eleven. I saw how Dad and Mom wrapped their bodies together, posing in their married bliss. Daphne and I were just making faces at the camera, pointing fingers at one another.

If this had been a normal day, I would have smiled in pleasure.

I went through the next few family photos until I found the one I needed.

The ninth picture: Mom.

Mom had been very pretty. She's got the flowing blond hair, deep blue eyes and a faint, sweet smile. And this picture perfectly matched Dylan's mom.

Patricia Winger.

Douglas Swan was dad.

Daphne and Stella Swan were the daughters.

And Patricia Winger…

The runaway mom.

"Brian, I think I don't feel so well." I muttered, changing into a dark blue sundress he bought last night.

"Aw. What happened to my kitty?" Brian leaned down, his rough skin brushed against mine as he placed his fingers onto my forehead.

"I think its overwork. Could I take leave on Monday?" I asked in a honey-sweet voice, picking up my Guess handbag.

"Sure, Daphne. You take the entire's week leave to rest well and be as sexy as possible before we go Hawaii next weekend." Brian rubbed his hands together after caressing my ass.

"For what?" I acted innocently.

"I'm going to tell Brittany to book the tickets for us and we're going to have the entire weekend full of beach sex!"

Oh my gosh. No way. I'd rather work as a stripper than to do that.

"But telling Brittany would expose our affair." I rested my arm on Brian's chest.

"Then you'll do it, honey. I'll give you the money on Tuesday."

"Sure." I'm going to blast his money on the latest collection of Ralph Lauren clothes instead.

"Bye Daphne. Have a good rest." He sent me out of the hotel room and closed the door quietly.

I placed all my Gucci bags onto my right hand as I pushed open the big glass door. Ah… Fresh air. I had spent the entire night in that bloody hotel room, under Brian while trying to act like a porn star just to get a new pair of Gucci killer heels and a dress. Plus the entire week's worth of leave.

So, having sex with your boss isn't that bad.

After all, I was just too desperate for a partner last night and well, Brian was the lucky one.

I sighed. I was bloody hungry now. What's the time?

Two twenty seven. Damn it. No wonder.

I sighed. Last night's 's four-inch heels were breaking my knee already. I reached my hand out and flagged for a cab.

I was going straight home to demand an explanation from Stella – hopefully, she's back from her rendezvous.

But hold on, I have a much better idea to get Stella away from my Dylan.


"Hi Dylan." I pressed the phone close to my ear as the traffic outside the taxi was just too noisy.

"Stella! I've missed you loads!"

Stella. Stella. Stella.

Why is everything babbling about Stella Swan all along? Ever since we're young. Obviously, I was the prettier one. So I should be the older sister. And why does the fucking whole world say that Stella Swan is so much more mature than me? Damn it.

But to break the two lovebirds, I have to suck the Stella name up.

"Dylan, are you free this evening?" I asked in a princess-sweet voice.

"Eh. Dear, missing me so soon already?"

"Ha-ha. Yes, Dylan." My gosh. Why does he speak to Stella in such a lovey-dovey manner? Had he forgotten the witty and humorous Daphne?

"That's great. So what's on today's plan? Are we going over to your house for me to ravish you all over again?"

Oh my gosh. Dylan whatever was a genius.

"How would you like that? I'll hop over to Thriftway to get some wine now." I rubbed my hands together in glee.

The cabby must have thought that I was mentally unsound.

It was just that my perfect idea was driving me crazy.

"Ah. No need for that. Let me educate you on your choice of wine."

"Sure. See you at my house at seven."

"Bye dear."


I hung up.

And Dylan was going to be mine.


"Everything will be fine," I reassured Daphne as her tears soaked my entire shirt.

Daphne just continued sobbing. Just like my mom next to me.

"Daph, everything will be back to normal. Except there'll be no dad." My sentence ended sadly.

I remembered the day we came back from the funeral. At the funeral itself, Mom had been very strong, accepting condolences while rushing around to host the guests. Daphne just sat at the corner, sobbing while I had to pour drinks to serve the neighbours and relatives.

But then Mom's composed mask blew away when she returned back home.

"Seriously, Daph. It's ok." I patted lightly on my elder sister's back, soothing her tears lightly.

"Stella, for goodness sake, it's bloody not ok! Your dad is killed by some fucking hit-and-run driver and now we have no money. And if you girls hadn't disturbed your dad, he wouldn't have been run down either. It's all your fucking fault and it's not fucking ok!"

It was the first time Mom screamed at me.

It was the first time Mom lost her cool.

It was the first time Mom used profanities.

She muttered the four-letter profanity several more times as she slammed the door in my face.

Daphne cried louder.

And that wasn't the last time she did that.

I finally reached home at four after a delicious Japanese lunch and one more pair of shoes. Of course, both were using Brian's credit card.

I fished my key out of my handbag and turned it into the lock cheerily.

Hmm… There was no sound at all.

Dylan couldn't be around, right?

"Stella!" I called out merrily, kicking my shoes off and flinging my purchases over the couch.

"Sis?" She finally replied after a long minute.


If she wasn't at home, my plan wouldn't work at all.

After that day, Mom never came out of her room at all. Both Daphne and I could hear her wailing and screaming profanities but she never showed her face anymore.

Every morning, without fail, I would deliver her breakfast at her doorstep and shouted for her to come out.

But she never did.

But at the end of the day, an empty plate and cup would be there.

And not before long, the money in the house began to run out.

No matter how hard, I'd tried to convince Mom to come out to face the harsh reality, she just didn't budge.

So, Daphne and I had to juggle studies and work just to provide for the family. Naturally, Daphne started failing in school so I decided to carry the entire burden on my shoulders.

Mom seemed to not care about the family anymore until one night.

Daphne and I returned home, utterly shocked to see Mom sitting on the couch.

"Mummy! We've missed you so much! Can you please don't go back to your room anymore?" Daphne leaped forward into Mom's lap and began caressing her face.

"Yes, Daphne. I'll not go back to my room anymore." She promised, looking straight at me instead of my older sister.

"That's great, mom." I sighed in relief.

"That's great?" Mom mocked in sarcasm. "You bloody girl, do you even care 'bout your Dad in the first place?" She demanded for an answer.

"Yes. Of course we do. All of us loves Dad."

"You say you fucking love your Dad. That's all bullshit. If you love Douglas, how could you have killed him and put his death past and get on with life? If you had loved him, then why didn't you cry for him at all? That's because you're one fucking heartless daughter!" Mom spit those words in my face.

"The fact is, I loved Dad a lot. And we're all affected by the accident. It's an accident, Mom. It wasn't either Daphne's or my fault. It was the bloody driver. And Dad would want us to get on with life and quit grieving about him. Because crying doesn't bring the food back home!"

That was the first time I talked back to my mom.

"Fine! If you think so, I'm leaving. And I have no such fucking daughter of you. So long." She picked up her luggage – we'd never noticed its presence – and stomped out of the room.

Daphne wailed.

"Why the fuck do you have to chased Mom away. Dad's already gone! I don't want to be an orphan!" She screamed at me, and slammed the door in my face. The way Mom had did months ago.

Two weeks later, Daphne and I celebrated our sweet sixteen, parentless.

And mom never came back.

Ever again.

Until now.

"Stella!" Daphne called out.

Oh. Daph was back home? I didn't even hear the door open. Damn, I must have been so immersed. I took the hem of my clothes to wipe my tears away. I sniffed.

"Sis?" I called out finally as I packed all the photos back into the drawer and walked out of the room.

"Where did you go last night?" I asked.

Hmm… Stella had been crying. Could Dylan had already broke up with him? That'll make my job easier right?

"Oh. I spent the night at Hudgens' house."

Why did she still keep Dylan's name from me? She seriously wanted to keep him away from me, wasn't she? Fat hope, Stella. I muttered to myself mentally.

"Ha-ha. Someone's got a date last night. And tonight's my turn!" I clapped my hands together.

"That's great, sis." And she faked a smile.

Damn it, the bitch. Tonight, I must show her that Dylan's mine and no one else's.

"Come on, Stella. Help me get ready for my date." I didn't mean that. Why would my love rival helped me to look my best for her boyfriend. She'll just make me look like a cow.

"Sure." And she faked another smile.

Turning away from her, I rolled my eyes.

I wonder, who will be the one winning tonight.

Usually, I'll do my best to help Daphne with her make-up and choosing clothes stuff. But seriously, I wasn't in the best mood to do that today. After all, I just found my runaway mother who disappeared for ten years. And she must happen to be Dylan's mother.

So I was exceptionally glad when Daphne sent me out of the house to get some food for the date later.

"Bye Daph!" I waved at my sister from the porch and went along with the shopping trip.

"Bye Daph!" I rolled my eyes as I copied the way Stella talked.

She must be so happy to get out of my sight and probably catch a few words with her darling Hudgens. Or should I say, my darling Dylan.

Who is going to be mine.

So soon.

So very soon.

"Patricia!" I retorted as she started another round of questions about Stella.

Usually, she didn't meddle with my affairs. But why today? When I'm going to be late for my date with Stella.

"Just two more." She insisted.

"Fine." I threw my hands up in the air and rolled my eyes.

"Did she mention to you about her mother?" She asked slowly, her eyes fixated onto mine.

"Nope. But she did asked for your name."

"Ok… And does she have a sister?"

Ugh. What's with all the family background?

"Yep. I think she's called Daphne or something like that."

"Daphne Swan. Stella Swan. Of course."

I took the chance that Patricia was in a daze and ran out of the house.

And she didn't seem to mind that either.

Oh no.

It was already six past seven.

I glanced up at the clock again.

If Dylan didn't arrive here any minute, Stella would reach the house before he does.

And that would spoil my entire plan.

The doorbell rang.

"Not Stella. Not Stella. Not Stella." I chanted as I opened the door, with my eyes closed.

"Hey darling, miss you loads." A low, husky voice greeted me.

Phew. I buried my head in his chest as Dylan kissed my hair.

"Can you imagine that I love you so much too that I've missed you so much in the last six hours?" I bet that's how Stella sounded when she spoke to Dylan.

Dylan carried me to the living room as I left the front door slightly ajar. That's for Stella to watch a perfectly nice show later.

"Ha-ha. Yes, I can imagine." He set me onto the couch lightly.

I tinkled a faint, fake, laugh.

"Oh. And I sincerely apologize for being so late. My mom was being such a nag." And Dylan began to lean onto me.

"Apology accepted. And oh boy, aren't you impatient?"

"For you, yes."

"Don't you want to have dinner first?" If the show ended too early and Stella didn't see anything, that'll be such a waste.

"No thanks. You're the perfect appetizer, main course and desert." And he leaned onto me for my lips.

I kissed back, my arms coming up to clasp around his neck. He kissed me back furiously, inserting all his emotions into it. I could feel his red, hot passion swirling around me. Hmm… He was so good. My mouth moulded into his as I gave into my irrational mind, totally forgetting that this is a show.

Dylan took my encouragement seriously and began to caress me with his tongue, tasting me fully. His teeth bit gently, and his tongue teased sweetly. I moaned. He was a thousand times better than bastard Brian. I tilted my head as our tongues did a lot of weird things in between our lips. And my gosh, he tasted too good to be true. So much heat. And just too much flavour.

I moaned some more, sinking my fingers into hair. He responded with a sigh and pulled away with a gasp.

"You're so good that I don't want to let go of you." He rasped.

"Hmm… Then don't let go." I was still singing in pleasure, even though his lips were already away from me.

Dylan silenced me by putting his lips back to where it'd belonged. My lips. Then, his hands began to explore other parts of my body. One of his hands caressed my shoulder and began tearing off the straps of my dress. I did the same too, moving my hands towards his erection and fumbled with his zip. He moaned as I pulled his jeans down. I chuckled.

Dylan did the rest by kicking his bloody jeans off his ankles. I helped him with my dress by wriggling my tits so it would come off more easily. He laughed faintly too.

"Stella, don't you think it'll be easier if we just sat up and rip each other's clothes off?" He rasp in between wet, hot kisses.

"Dylan, it's much more fun this way." I grasped his shoulders tight as I escaped his lips for a breather.

"Agreed." And he began caressing me again while pulling my silk wrap dress down my knees.

"Ah," I sighed in pure pleasure as my dress was taken off me.

Dylan sent me squirming as he began rolling his thumbs over my tits. That was just beyond description. I groaned and arched my back, begging him for more. He chuckled as he cupped my tits. I stuck my chest out to him and tore off his polo shirt at the same time. And I swore I heard buttons popping out.

"And you called me impatient." Dylan laughed.

"You're too good to be resisted." I countered as he began undoing the clasp of my lack black bra.

"And you're too beautiful, Stella. Far too beautiful."

Those words made bliss explode in me. I had heard this phrase far too many time and yet Dylan was the only one who had that much of an impact on me.

And I was just too glad to have set up this show.

Because I wanted Dylan.

I needed Dylan.

And I loved Dylan.

"Daph-" I stopped right away.

The door had been left slightly ajar so I could see everything that happened in the living room easily.

Oh. I see.

Daphne had already began making out with her date.

Of course. I had been moping around at Thriftway while just buying some deli. They would have started without the food. Daphne sometimes can just be too irresistible.

And just when I was about to get out to give the couple some privacy, Dylan poked his head out.

"You're so good that I don't want to let go," He rasped in his sexy voice. I loved that voice. I had heard that voice for the entire last night. And now he was whispering that to my sister?

"Then don't let go," Daphne muttered back.

He smiled faintly as he began tearing Daphne's perfect dress off.

Daphne ripped his jeans off too.

"Why don't we just sit up and rip each other's clothes off?" Dylan suggested, a wry smile playing on his lips.

"It'll be more fun this way."


And they went back to their making out session.

Did I really imagine this or what?

Was my sister really kissing and striping the man that I'd loved?

I craned my neck further.

Yes. It was Dylan Hudgens.

Dylan bared Daph's tits as he flung her bra over the coffee table. It was exact same way he'd done it last night.

And I'd enough.

I dropped the grocery bags with a soft thud and walked into the silent night.

I swore I heard the soft thud of bags.

It must have been Stella.

But I couldn't be bothered with it now.

I griped Dylan's shoulders hard as he made a final push as I burst out in a orgasm.

My eyes seem to have exploded in red, pink and purple. Colours of fiery passion.

Damn. It was the best sex I'd had in years.

Moaning, Dylan pulled my face towards his and we began another round of making out.

"I love you," I rasped in between.

"Hmm… Me too." He rasped back.

Did he really love me, Daphne Swan, or has he fallen for my sister, Stella Swan?

Dylan Hudgens could never be a two-timer.

Dylan Hudgens had been so warm, loving, kind, hot and incredibly good in bed.

Dylan Hudgens wouldn't have cheated on me.

Maybe it was just me all along.

After all, Daphne had announced Dylan as a boyfriend long before my rendezvous.

And we were twins. So Dylan must have thought that I was Daph.

And I actually believed that he loved me.

No, he didn't.

He loved my sister instead.

Plus I had another impending major problem: Patricia Winger.

Would she have recognized me? If she did, what would she plan to do? Join this family back?

Or not.

She was already married to Mr Hudgens.

Which also meant that…

Dylan Hudgens was her bloody son?

And that neither me nor Daph can marry him because we're step-siblings.

Oh no.

That's even worse.

Even if I couldn't Dylan for myself, I would still want Daph to get her happiness. But why must Mom come into the picture? Why couldn't it just any other bloody woman who is Dylan's mom, so that Daph and Dylan can get together?

Bloody hell.

I flipped open my phone and began walking towards 7-eleven.

"Fourteen ninety seven," The old man behind the counter chimed.

I balanced my phone between my ear and shoulder as I fished my wallet out and took out sixteen bucks.

"Keep the change." I muttered, dragging the bag of Bacardi over the counter.

The old man saluted me as I walked out of the store. The answering machine finally got someone to talk to me over the phone.

"Good evening, US airways, how can I help you?" The cool, calm voice answered me.

I bet the voice that escaped my lips would be the exact opposite of his voice.

"Eh. I want to book an air ticket."

"Sure, miss. May I enquire about your preferred destination?"

Hmm… I hadn't thought about that yet.

"Whatever flight you can book now and whisk me over to that place by tomorrow morning."

"Sure." The guy must have sounded appalled by my request. There was some tapping on the keyboard over the line.

"Would you prefer Atlantic City or New York City?"

"Atlantic City." The beaches and boardwalk would help me relax.

"Sure, miss. Can I have your personal identification information." Bla. Bla. Bla.

By the time I was done with all the crap, I had already reached home. I didn't even bother to glance around. The grocery bags were still outside the door. Daphne's underwear were all strewn around the living room.

With Dylan's jeans.

I tried very hard not to think about that.

I rushed up to my room, whisked around and got everything packed.

There were screams of orgasms followed by moans that travelled through the thin walls of the house.

I had enough.

I closed my eyes – and tripped over the stairs – and managed to get out of the house with my eyes not corrupted.

In another few hours' time, you'll be relaxing in one of America's best beaches. So just shut the damned brain about the disgusting happenings in your house, I reminded myself as I flagged for a taxi.

My bloody phone rang.

"Damn it, Dylan." Stella cursed under me.

We'd just finished a game tickling and Stella was wriggling under me in hysterics. Who would have known such a calm and cool person on the outside would be so hot and sexy in bed?

"I have to pick up the phone. It might be some kind of emergency." I got up from her and patted the carpeted floor for my phone.

Patricia. The caller ID had reflected.

"Hello!!!" Daphne screamed as I picked up the phone.

I smiled at her childishness.


"Oh Dylan, where are you?"

Where was I? Enjoying myself in Stella Swan's house?

"Eh. Working on a project?" My lie sounded convincing enough.

Stella laughed at my lame excuse.

"Then what's that female laughter in the background?" Oh no. Patricia's hearing was damn good.

"Timmy's sharing a sick joke." I explained as I cupped Stella's mouth.

"You naughty boys. Anyway, have you seen Stella?"

Of course. I'm ravishing her like hell now.

"Eh. No, Patricia. I'm in the office now. What's up?"

"Dylan, I think I saw her at the airport."

"Airport?" Patricia was being ridiculous.


"Pat, what are you doing at the airport?"

"Sending off a friend? And so, I happened to see Stella."

"I think you must seen the wrong person. I… I… just called Stella. She's at home." Of course, I added mentally.

"Boy, are you sure? You really don't know where she's heading?"

"Pat, I really don't know."

"Ok. I'll see you. Don't work too hard."

"Yeah. Sure."

And I hung up on her.

"Working on a project?" Stella asked.

"Ha-ha. Yes. Working on how to ravish you!" And I pounced onto her.

Stella laughed happily as we began another night of love-making.

"Seriously darling, why would you want to take a week of no-pay leave?" Joe, my co-worker, asked over the phone.

"Cause I'm in Atlantic City now and I can't get a bloody taxi?" I replied, irritated.

"Damn it, girl. Call for one." Joe rolled her eyes over the phone.

"No need." A red, shiny taxi drove past and stopped ten feet forward. I ran for it.

"Good. Now what the hell are you in Atlantic City? Did boss send you there for some convention?" Joe teased.

"Where too, miss?" The tired taxi driver asked.

"Hold on, sir. Just drive towards the casinos first. Let me find my hotel."

"Joe, do you happen to know any hotel in Atlantic City?" I spoke back into the phone.

"Eh. Budget or Luxury?"

"I don't want any bed and breakfast and no need to whisk me into Chelsea."

"Holiday Inn, darling." I could hear his fingers tapping onto his Blackberry.

"What are the rates like?"

"One forty per night." He replied instantly.

Usually, I'll mind that prince. Because I wanted to save money for a nicer birthday present for Daph. Now, there's no need. So, I'll just splurge.

"Thanks, Joe. You're a lifesaver."

The taxi driver cleared his throat impatiently.

"Eh. Holiday Inn Hotel, sir."

"Sure, miss."

"Eh. Stella, before you put down, can you just tell me what the hell are you doing now?" Joe demanded.

"I'm on a holiday."

There was silence on the other side of the phone.

"Joe?" I asked.

"Excuse me, I nearly fainted." I chuckled at his hyperbole.

"Why the hell are you on a holiday?"

"Because I need to relax?"

"Sure, workaholic."

"Just help me tell boss tomorrow."

"Yeah. Hope you won't get killed." The sarcasm in his voice was obvious. Boss loved me too much to kill me. After all, I bet I had at least six month's worth of leave accumulated, judging from the way the other people take leave after a Sunday's hangover.

"Thanks. Love you loads. Owe you a meal." I kissed my phone.

"If you ever come back."

I chuckled and put down the phone.

Seriously, having fun was really fun.

Why didn't I enjoy life like Daph instead of being all so caught up in everyone's affairs?

Ha. Now, I'm learning to.

I woke up the next morning with my hand draped over Dylan's bare chest and my ankle nudged with his inner thighs.

Ooh. What a weird sleeping position.

I sat up and yawned.

What was the time now?

I picked up the alarm clock – I don't even know why Stella bought it for me. I always put in on snooze each time it rings until I'm always late for work – Eight forty.

Stella. Yeah right. I'll worry about that later.

Eight forty- That was pretty early, judging from the amount of love making last night.

"Good morning, Stella Swan." Dylan rustled in his sleep and woke up, kissing me on my cheeks.

"Morning, darling." I kissed him back.

In the end, we ended up wrestling on the bed with a furious round of French-kissing.

"Time to get to work." Dylan finally announced, pushing me away.

I whined. Brian said I could have the day off right?

"Stella, do you happen to have any guy's clothes in the house."

"Eh. No. Why?"

"It's kind of weird going back home in the same clothes. Or going to work in crumpled clothes." Dylan explained as he picked up his clothes.

"Oh. I only have ladies stuff in the house."

"Your dad?" Dylan shrugged, putting on his briefs.

"Long dead." I yawned as I put on my bra and knickers.

"Sorry, sweetie." Dylan leaned forward to ruffle my hair.

"It's ok, Dylan. I'm long over it, already. Anyway, do you want breakfast?"

"Maybe not. I'll think we'll have it at Starbucks while I hop down to Macy's to get some new clothes."

"Sure. I like coffee."

"Hmm… Me too. But I like you more."

"Ha-ha. Get changed. I'll see you at the car in five minutes."

"Yes, ma'am." And Dylan retreated out of the room.

Imagine this would how everyday life would be if I became Mrs Hudgens. Life would be so blessed. Plus it would be an extended holiday. Dylan must earn a lot and there's no need for his pretty wife to have sex with Brian just to bag a few days of leave.

Speaking of which, my weekly allowance – I mean, the money for the 'trip' to Hawaii this weekend – has not been collected. Better head down the office later to collect from Brian.

In the meantime, let me just live in the imaginary post of Mrs Daphne Hudgens.

I sat up, stretching my fingers and checked the time on my watch.

Eight forty one.

Damn it. I'm so damn late for work.

I quickly stumbled out of bed, scurrying out of my nightgown.


I wasn't even wearing my nightgown to sleep. I was dressed in a blue-silk, half-dress and Levis. With my trainers on too.

"You retarded ass," I slapped myself on my forehead. Then, I plunged back onto the bed and kicked my trainers off.

I was supposed to be on a holiday and not worrying about the fastest route of getting back to the office. Plus, I was in a bloody hotel room in Atlantic City.

I tried real hard to back to sleep but apparently I wouldn't. My stupid ass brain had gotten used to the wake-up-seven-thirty kind of routine, it was kind of miraculous to wake up near nine in the morning.

So in the end, I changed into a sweet outfit of a black spaghetti straps and a white flare skirt. Touched up a bit on my hair and lip gloss and sank down to the lobby for my complimentary breakfast.

For two.

But there was only one person.

I sighed.

Why had I even accepted Joe's suggestion on Holiday Inn?

As I moved from the waffle counter to the salad counter, I'd realized that nearly everyone here were in couples. Except for the staff. And me.

I was also supposed to be with a guy. Because I booked the freaking romantic for two package which seemed to be a better deal.

And now I'm looking like an extra lamppost with all these candle-light couples around.

Damn it, I thought as I shoved my salad into my mouth.

Joe was going to get hell from me when I returned to work.

And returned to Seattle to face my darling sister and Dylan.


Like a couple too.

Which should have been sitting in the love seat my ass is on now.

I sighed.

I bet I'm going to sigh a lot more on this holiday.

"Bye Stella." I dropped Stella off at her office – seriously, it doesn't look like an accountancy firm at all – and headed towards the hospital.

That smile of hers that she gave me over her shoulders was damn sweet.

But then, the rest of my life didn't seem as sweet as that.

For example, Liz, my supervisor, showed me the killer face as I stepped into my office.

"Morning there, Liz. You look great. Good sex last night?" I kissed her lightly on her cheeks and set down to work.

I hardly talked like that. Stella's cheeriness is rubbing onto me, I guess.

"Morning there, Dylan. You look great too. You must be the one having great sex last night right?"

"Ha-ha. Great sense of humour, Liz. How could I compare to you? How could I ever bag a partner as good as you." I added the sarcasm in my mind only.

"Thank you, Dylan. But at least after sex, I make it to work on time." And she narrowed her eyes at me.

"Hey, Liz. I'm sorry. At the most, I work an extra shift during the weekends?" Ugh. Less time with Stella.

"You'd better." I wondered how small could her angry eyes go before they close.

"Yeah sure, Liz."

"Anyway-" She lifted her hands off my work desk and pulled up her eyelids, "Your dad has been busy calling the hospital since seven in the morning."

The problem resurfaced as the phone on my desk jumped up, ringing.

"Happy answering your dad." She added with a smirk and walked out of the room.

"Dad? Patricia?" I spoke warily as I flipped my phone open.

No wonder. Out of battery. That's why Dad kept calling the hospital. So maybe it wasn't that urgent after all.

"Dylan, what happened to your phone? You don't waste your money on a bloody phone if you leave if off all the time."

Oh no. The vulgarities. This got to be something serious.

"Dad, my phone was low on battery. And I worked over-night at the hospital."

"Excuses." He muttered.

"So what's wrong, Dad?"

"Everything is so wrong!"

"Did the house burn down or something like that?" I teased, even though I knew the severity of this.

"You wish, Dylan. Patricia has ran away."

"What? Why would she?"

"I have no idea. She'd just left a note saying, 'I need to settle some stuff. I owe people apologies. Will come back for you, my darling'"


"And that's it." Dad complained.

"Patricia couldn't have left you for another guy, right?" I speculated.

"Cut the crap out, Dylan. She's left with her suitcase but most of her Armani and Gucci are still in the walk-in wardrobe. Even her favourite Guess heels are here."

"That means she'll be coming home soon."

"Mr Hudgens, can I send in your first patient of the day?" My sweet assistant chimed behind the door.

"Eh. Hold on, Dad." And I covered the phone with my hand.

"Summer, give me five minutes." I told my assistant.

"Sure, doctor." These Aussie girls were just so nice. But Stella was nicer and hotter.

I chuckled before going back to my furious father.


"Dylan, Patricia's passport's gone." He told me in a grave tone.

"She'd probably escaped with her posh friends to Paris for a spa treatment." I said as I started my computer.

"No. She would have brought all her branded stuff to show off, in that case."

"Dad, relax. Breathe, Dad. I'll call the airlines and see if I can get any information."

"Thanks, Dylan. I needed that help."

"Sure, see you."

Ten minutes later, I got the answer. Patricia had just took off in a midnight flight to Atlantic City.

For what?

I titled my head from side to side. Ugh. You could hear the cracking.

I lifted my shoulders up and down. More cracking.

But that two hours of sailing had been bloody good.

It made me feel so energized.

Now the cool water from the sea splashing onto my face made me cool and refreshed.

Nothing could get better than this, could it?

"Stella." Someone called me from my back.

I whisked my head immediately.

And who would have thought she would be here.

"Stella?" The same person repeated.

Who would have thought that my mom would be here.

Patricia Winger hadn't really changed since the last time I'd seen her. Which was a decade ago. Now, she looked far more fabulous than ever. Her blond hair was now silkier and longer. Her blue eyes were shinier and more beautiful. Her skin shone with radiance. And her clothes… A green Versace silk dress and what? heels, I bet.

She had really changed, hadn't she?

Or was it because the last time I saw her she wasn't in her best moods and she ranting vulgarities at her daughter? No, it couldn't. Mom had never fancied branded stuff. She liked to stick her home-made cotton plaid skirts and white satin dresses for more official events. And now, my Mom, nearly thirty years older than me, has more branded possessions than me? I only had a DKNY watch.

"Stella Swan?" Patricia Winger repeated with curious eyes.

"Long time no see, Patricia." I greeted her in a solemn tone.

"You used to call me Mom. Your dad never liked kids to call their parents by names." She settled in the empty seat next to me.

"You actually remember." I mocked.

"Stella, of course. I still can separate you and Daphne." And she placed her hand onto my shoulder. I shook it off.

"You followed me here." I accused.


"Why?" I demanded. Now's my only bloody chance for a holiday and my runaway mom must come spoil it? Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic.

"Because I needed to see you."

"Daph and I never needed to."

"Stella, it's been ten years already."

"Yes. Ten years you've left Daph and I to fend for ourselves."

"But darling, you all survived."

"Or else what did you expect. The two of us to adopted by some rich people and thus separated? Or what? We dying on the streets, begging people for money?"

"Darling, no." Her voice was pained now.

"Then?" Even I felt like crying. No, I couldn't cry over my useless mother. It must have been the salt water going into my eyes.

"I'm really sorry for leaving the two of you. I really couldn't bear to."

"And why did you?"

"Darling, you didn't know how much I was dealing with. The love of my life had just died. Died. Like completely vanished from the face of Earth. From my life." The tears dripping from her eyelids sparked under the hot sun.

"And you think we had an easy way out? We were only fifteen." Plus, wasn't I dealing with the loss of Dylan now too?

"I'm sorry, darling."

"Sorry won't get you anywhere, Patricia." My voice was cold and hard. Completely no emotions at all. Just like the way Mom had walked out on us ten years ago.

"I know. That's why I'm here to patch things up."

"Patch things up?"

"Yes." She had sounded so desperate.

"How? Turn time back? To ten years ago? Then Dad wouldn't have left us? Then I would have gotten a better education. And I would be able to be what I wanted to be? Not a bloody accountant. Daph too. She wouldn't be stuck at her stinking make-up company either. She could have been something better. And the love of our lives too. It's you. Everything wrong in our lives is caused by you. Someone I used to call Mom. But it isn't the same now. Anymore."

"Stella, time change and people change. I've changed. I promise I wouldn't be that naïve."

"Of course you wouldn't. You have the rich, old Mr Hudgens to back you up with all the Armani shit."

"Darling, I love Douglas as much as your dad. He helped me to overcome everything. He helped me to be a better person."

"Yeah right. He helped you be a better person. With his money. You helped him to be a better person too. Sex, of course."

"Douglas was coping with death too. His wife had just died too."

"Yeah. So the widow and the widower, perfect match."

"Stella, can you just hear me out?"



"Because I hate you, Douglas – or whatever shit name he has – and most of all, bloody Dylan."

"Dylan?" She asked in pure confusion and innocence.

"Yes. I hate him. He's the worst man on Earth." Now the tears began flowing.

"Darling, why?"

"I don't wish to talk about it."

And I walked away from my Mom.

"Morning Brittany."

"Good afternoon, Daphne." She rolled her eyes as she greeted me.

Damn that girl to hell. Wait till I become Mrs Hudgens. She'll pay for it.

"Can I see Brian?"

"Yeah. Give me a minute. Anyway, are you on leave?" Judging from her eyes, yes. She was jealous.

"I'm on leave for the entire week. Caught a bad case of flu." I coughed pathetically for her to see. She didn't seem convinced. After all, I never got into drama. "Wouldn't want to spread it." I added with mocked pity.

She rolled eyes as she dialled for Brian's extension. And she muttered bitch under her breath.

"Brian, Daphne's here. You want to see her?" She asked as she put it on speaker mode. And I swore she was chanting 'no' under her breath.

But of course, Brian said yes.

"Thanks Brittany." I chimed as I walked into the office.

"Daphne!" Brian leaped out of his seat immediately. He pulled me into his arms for a hug.

"Dear, when you want to hug me, down the bloody binds go." I warned him, pushing him away from me.

"Sure, dear." He hopped away and pulled the binds down diligently.

"Hmm… Now it's time to ravish my dear."

"Brian. Not in the office."

Like he could be stopped. His lips were already pouted out, tongue licking all over my teeth. Did I have a choice? My entire week of bloody leave was from him. I'll just have to suck it up. At the most, I would never have to be fucked by him anymore.

Finally, after ten minutes of saliva-exchanging, he pulled away.

I took a deep breath.

His lunch of medium rare steak engulfed my mouth. Yuck. I hated steak.

"So Daphne, what's up?" He held me in his arms, his eyes inches away from mine as our foreheads touched.

"Eh… You kind of wanted a weekend out on Hawaii right?" I prompted.

"Hmm… With my Daphne, of course."

"Then, dear. I need the money."

"Don't you have it?"

"You don't really pay very well." I pouted. Maybe I'll get a pay rise too.

"Ha-ha. Sweetie. Let me draw out a check and you can be on your way to the agent."

"Thanks, Brian!"

He pulled away from me and got back to his table. After scribbling on his check book, he handed me the flimsy piece of paper.

"You'll cash into your account and use it to buy the tickets, ya?"

"Sure." I replied, flicking the two-thousand dollar with my fingers.

"Anything else, Daphne?"

"Yes, Brian." I walked towards his table, places my hands onto his pile of work and leaned down.

From that look of Brian, he must be enjoying the look of my cleavage. My low-cut V-neck was revealing enough to show at least one-thirds of my tits.

"I've just seen some nice-looking bikinis from Sun Paradise. Thought it would be useful for our trip."

"Eh. Sure, Daphne. How much do you need?" My, oh my, this guy was sure straightforward.

"Three hundred?" Hmm… That'll be enough for me to get some more pair of high heel shoes.

"Sure." Brian's eyes didn't leave my cleavage as he dug a wade of notes out from his wallet.

"Thanks, Brian!" I kissed him on his forehead ran out of his dreaded office.

Wow. A rendezvous with the boss could earn me so much money.

But a fling with Dylan would reap even more results.

"She left her phone in her room." Dad told me over the phone.

"Dad, Patricia's fine. She's in Atlantic City. Perfectly ok." I wondered this the how many time I've been reassuring her.

"She'd better be. If you have any more news, call me."

"Sure, dad."

And he hung up.

I dialled the extension for Summer.

"Next patient, please."

"Dr Hudgens, you'd better work faster. Liz's just added twenty more onto the waiting list."

"Oh my God. Summer, thanks for the tip-off."

"You're welcome."

And I hung up.

Damn it. That bloody Liz was driving me crazy.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come on in." I boomed.

A healthy-looking woman popped in. She seemed swooned, I wonder why.

"Erm…" I flipped open her case file and skimmed through, "Miss Brahmans, what can I do for you?"

"Oh. I've been getting a lot of eye irritation these few days." She looked pretty good to me.

"Hmm… Let me take a look." I fished my little torch out and examined it.

"How is it, doc?"

Then my bloody phone rang.

"Dr Hudgens, Miss Swan's on the line."

Stella. I'd love to answer but…

"Doc?" Miss Brahmans was little on the impatient side.

"Put her on hold." I instructed Summer.


And I hung up.

"Doc, I'm rushing. Hurry, pleaseee?" The bitch rattled.

"Sure." I sighed.

I scribbled a little on her file before talking to her.

"Basically, your eye lashes are very long. They don't seem to curl up. Instead, they curl down and it's poking your eye, thus causing the irritations."

"And what do I do about it?"

"Go for a surgery to alter it."

"Oh no. For heaven's sake, no."

"It's turn the lashes up. You can even opt for double eyelids." Girls would be turned on by cosmetic surgery right?

"Damn it, doc. Are you saying that my eyes are not pretty enough?"

"No, miss. What I mean is a value-added service. That's all."

"Whatever, you bloody doctor. Thanks for wasting my time and I'm going to another more competent doctor." She stood up and rushed out of the room.

Oh my gosh, what a bloody irritating patient. I picked up the phone.

"Summer, put Stella on."

"Miss Swan?"

"Yeah." And I began rubbing my temples. Damn, it was already three thirty. And I still had twenty more patients to go. Oh no. I'll be having dinner here.

"Dylan!" Even Stella's cheery voice couldn't cheer me up.

"Hi dear."

"Aw. Feeling down?"


"Then come over to my house tonight." Yes, I loved that idea… But I couldn't.

"I have a lot of work to finish."

"Dylan…" Oh no. Whining. I'd enough of whining for today.

"Shut the bloody whining, ok? I'll come over to your house. See you at eight."

And I slammed the phone down.

Oh no. I was being mean to Stella, wasn't I?

Then I better appreciate her in bed later.

Oh no.

I didn't like the sound of that voice.

Shut the bloody whining. I'll come over to your house. See you at eight.

Dylan's words echoed in my mind.

His fierce, annoyed and pissed voice repeated itself time and again.

Did I do something wrong?

Oh yes. I did.

I snatched my sister's boyfriend – supposedly mine – and now he's angry at me.


He couldn't have really found out about it, right?

Oh no. I'm going to die.

Is cheating a criminal offence?

I hope not.

But still, life has to go on right.

Yes. And life equates to shopping.

Doesn't it?

First stop, Ann Taylors. Bagged some pretty little black dresses. Could save them for Stella since we're of the same size. But I really like them a lot. Maybe the next store. . I'll get something for her.

Second stop, as promised, . Wow. Spotted on some ridiculously fabulous sweaters. Bought grey and purple for myself. Along with that, I had other purchases such a hundred dollar bracelet and a classic red-carpet dress. In red, of course. And the price, oh well. I was using Brian's money. At the most I'll just wear the bloody dress, impress him, wrestle on the bed, and he'll forget everything. Right? And shoes. Yes. I bought a silver leather pump. It goes perfect with my red dress. It was must buy. I had to. Oh yes. Stella's shoes. A light blue suede three-inch heel. She has a sweater to go with it. Oh wait. No that sweater was mine. Oh no. It's hers. But I borrowed it like a few years ago and never returned. Oh well. I have to give her both the shoe and the sweater.

The bill. Yes.

"Eight hundred and seventy two, forty seven cents please." Oh. Did I ever mention how much I hate cashiers. They just spoil the bloody fun out of shopping by telling us how much poorer are we now.

Ugh. But never mind, I'm not the poor one now. It's Brian.

"Credit, thanks."

Got laden down by four more exquisitely wrapped bags and went out.

Third stop and sadly, last stop: Victoria's Secret. Carrying the two pairs of shoes and other clothes were killing me already.

Hey. Brian should thank me for this. Getting nicer, newer, sweeter, sexier underwear. He'll like that. A lot. That disgusting pimp.

Got a few classic 34Cs push-up bras – for the outlook of course – , nice new thongs – for both Dylan and Brian to admire my damn sexy ass –, a nearly transparent pink nightgown – oh. I took red too. Red was sexier. Pink was sweeter. So Dylan and Brian can have the best of both worlds. – and …

Would Dylan even want me in the first place?

If he had found out that I'm the imposter Stella, he wouldn't sex with me.

Let alone looking at me.

I sighed.

I was about to return all the lingerie. I seriously didn't. They were all so nice…

And I pranced about those for the flat people. Unlike me. I giggled at my evilness.


The label read.

And I'd just come up with a damn evil idea.

Consider Project Dylan-come-back-to-me completed.

This was foolproof.


This was getting on my nerves.

"Endure." I chanted as I stepped into Charles David.

The cool air and friendly sales staff greeted me.

And it was all spoilt by a bloody voice.

"Welcome to Charles David. We wish you a pleasurable shopping experience." The staff had chimed.

"Thank you, young lady." Chimed the bloody voice back.


I touched the velvet feel of a silver boot that I chanced upon. I took it off and slipped my feet in. Hmm… Perfect fit. I smiled.

I looked up, to call for the sales staff.

Actually, I was buying on impulse. But this was nothing compared to Daphne. If she had been in here, she would bought the entire store because it was summer sale. And my pair of boots had been slashed from four hundred per pair to hundred twenty. Quite a good deal.

But I was totally put off when I lifted my head.

"You like this pair? It's quite good, you know. Hmm.. Hundred twenty bucks. It's a steal."

I snatched my bloody boots away from her. And placed it back on the shelf.

Now, I'm totally out of my shopping mood.

"Stella, don't you like it?"

"No. I don't." I snapped.

"It looks real good on your slender calves." She protested.

"Like I give a damn about it."

"Stella, please." Ok. Mom was really getting on my nerves. She had following me all around the place. And I had enough of her. I came to Atlantic City was to get a bloody break from Daphne, Dylan, work and stress. And now I'm stressed over my mom? Crap man.

"Fuck off. Now." I hissed.

The other patrons in the shop turned to stare at me. The cashier tutted. An elderly lady whispered to her daughter. Her daughter rolled her eyes at her and turned to give me the all-the-way smile. I forced a smile back at her.

"Stella." Mom protested.

And I marched away.

But I could still hear her chiming to the sales staff.

"Get this pair of boots for me, please? Yes. This size. This is the real Charles David right? Oh thank goodness. Do you accept Visa Platinum? Thanks so much. Wrap it up nicely for me, dear. No, I should thank you instead." Mom rattled off.

"Have a nice day," Came the reply.

My gosh. Mom had never acted like that in the past. The real Charles David? I bet she didn't even know LV. Let alone Prada, Zara and all the other branded stuff. Now, Visa Platinum. I only got American Express Silver. She must have learnt from her darling new husband, I bet.

I stomped away in anger.

But somehow, in her heels, Mom managed to catch up.

"Stella," Mom protested, walking beside me, shuffling her feet as fast as possible to catch up with this five feet eight girl.

And I stopped. She continued walking. And she walked back.

"What the hell do you want from me?" I demanded.

"Nothing really. Here's your boots, Stella." She offered me the bag. I didn't move.

"No thanks."

"Darling, I bought it. And I'm a size five only. I can't fit."

"Fine." I grabbed it from her wrist and continued walking.

"Stella," It came out as a sigh.

"Ok. You've given me the shoe. That's what you wanted right? You can leave now, Queen."

"I just want to spend a day with you."

"For what?"

"Darling, I've missed out ten important years in your lives. Graduation, first boyfriend, first job, first ditch. Now, I just want to make it up." Mom insisted.

If Daphne was here, she would have a happy ending. She would ask, "Must it be in that order?". And mom would exclaim, "You got a boyfriend before graduation?". Actually Daphne had her first boyfriend at thirteen. First French at fourteen. First snag at sixteen. Mom didn't know all this stuff. And then Daphne would admit sheepishly. Mom would laugh and said that she was forgiven. And everything would be happy.

Unlike my situation now. I would never behave like my older sister. Seriously, I only got my boyfriend at seventeen. Ha, still before graduation. And a proper shag at nineteen. Kind of lagging, compared to my older sister on bullet train.

"Make it up? I told you already, I can't turn time back." I snapped. If Daph had been here, she would quip, "Actually, we can. All we need to do is to travel faster than light into the opposite direction where the world turns." Mom would laugh. "So what's the speed of light?" Daph would test Mom. Mom shakes her head innocently and demands for an answer. Daph would then laugh. "I don't know either."

299 792 458. That's the speed of light in meters per second. I knew all these stuff. But what's the point? It doesn't help me get my mother back. It doesn't help me with winning my boyfriend back from Daphne. It only helps me in my bloody career. Even Joe had said. I was a workaholic.

"Darling, I know. That's why I want to give all the best to you now. While I'm alive." Mom said while I had been lost in my thoughts.

And I don't know why I agreed.

Maybe I had been too tired. Tired of being the responsible one. Tired of being the one who cleans up the mess. Tired of being the one doing the laundry every other day. Tired of being the one who goes to work on time every Monday. Tired of being one who's been always left out in the bar. Tired of being the one who doesn't have a boyfriend. Tired of being the one who always gets a pay rise and promotion.

Hey. But I liked having more money. Ok, so cancel the last one out.

Yes. I was tired.

Very tired of being the older sister instead of Daphne. I wanted someone to run my life instead. All I needed to do is to follow instructions. I don't want to run anyone's life anymore. I'm tired.

And I wanted my mom back into my life.

Into our broken family.

"Thanks Stella. And could you call me mom?" Mom burst out in happiness.

"Thanks mom." And I leant my heavy head onto her shoulder.

"Darling, careful. My latest Prada suit. But, who cares. I can always buy a new one. But I can't buy a new Stella."


And we headed for a hearty dinner.

"Dylan?" I poked my head out of the imaginary door.

And my prince charming would pop his gorgeous head out too.

If only our lips could touch and ta-da. Everything would be settled. Fine. Perfect.

But if, it hadn't.

Oh well.

I retreated from the mirror and plonked back onto the bed.

The entire evening had been spend unpacking my shopping and practising my lines.

Yes. The lines. The script. The musical would be call 'Bringing my Dylan back to me'.

Ha-ha. How imaginative I was.

But this is reality. Not that fanciful.

I looked up at the pink clock above my head. Seven oh eight.

Time for a bath.

And then just nice for Dylan to pop up.

But the thing is, Stella was nowhere to be found.

The real Stella. She knocked off from work at five thirty. And should be back home by six fifteen. So where the hell is she?

Oh no.

It couldn't be.

She was having dinner with Dylan now. And later the blessed couple will come down to the house to unravel my dirty trick. And I would be kicked out of the house. Since Stella bought it. And all my darling Prada, Zara, Esprit, LV, Versace, Armani. She would wear it. She would posses it.

She would posses my Dylan.

Oh no.

Or perhaps, I was just imagining too much.

My plan is foolproof.

Even Stella couldn't stop a man's lust.

Or could she?

"I've had a reservation." Mom clapped happily at the waiter.

"Your last name please?"

"Mrs Hudgens."

Hudgens. Yes. Dylan Hudgens.

"A table for two. This way, ma'am."

Ooh. The inlet restaurant was a fabulous one. It was built on the boardwalk and overlooked the beautiful ocean. Now, the sun was setting. Even a better view. No wonder the restaurant was packed. But what marvels me even more is that Mom actually got a table. A window table. Overlooking the bloody beach and sea. Wow.

"Here's your menu, ladies." The waiter quipped as he brought us to the table.

"Yes. We'll call for you later. Thank you."

"Nice view?" Mom asked.

"Of course. It adds onto the bill, though."

"Ha-ha. Yes, darling. So what do you want for dinner?" She asked as she waved the menu at me.

"Eh, Caesar salad." I said, scanning through the menu. The food here was bloody expensive. One bowl of soup for eight dollars.

Oh well. I'm supposed to relax here. Not being ever so calculative about the costs.

"Main course?" Mom quipped as she waved the waiter here.

"Roasted organic chicken breast." That dish sounded weird.

"Yes, ladies. How can help you?" The waiter chimed. He must have been impressed by Mom's number of branded stuff on her, just like me.

"Well, we'll have the Caesar salad and roasted chicken breast for this young lady here. And as for me, I'll take the clam chowder and the soy grilled salmon."

"Drinks?" He asked.

"Chardonnay." Mom replied instantly.

Wow. Chardonnay. Mom didn't even drink a sip of grapefruit juice in the past. Just coffee and water. She didn't even touch Starbucks.

"You fine with that, Stella?" Mom suddenly turned to me. My expression must have given myself away.

"Yeah. Chardonnay's great." I muttered.

"Ok. That's all. We'll settle the desert later." She told the waiter and sent him off.

"How did you managed to get such a good table?" I asked immediately. I wouldn't want Mom to start a conversation on what has happened in the last ten years. Because I didn't want to talk about Daphne. And secondly, I couldn't lie for goodness sake. And I was just mourning over the loss of my Dylan.

"Ha. I booked it last night. Had to throw in a twenty dollar bill just to make sure it was available during the dinner rush hour crowd."

"Mom, you needn't waste money like that." It wasn't hers in the first place. "I would have been happy enough sitting in a middle-class restaurant at the pier shops." Actually I really did.

"Oh, Stella. You're such a darling." She relaxed into a smug smile.

I smiled back and piled my hands onto the table.

"So what has happened all these years? You must have got some nice information to tell me. Is Daphne married already? Do you get a fat payroll each month? Are you living in a nice house in Seattle?" She looked up at me with inviting eyes.

The server saved me with our appetizers.

"Thanks," I muttered, sliding my fork under the croutons.

"Yes, Stella. I'm waiting for an answer." Mom still behaved like she used to. Pleasant, patient and polite. Never screamed at her children. Except for once, for course.

"Eh. Well. Daph's got a comfortable job as a make-up artist. Doesn't bring back much but enough to support her Versace clothes. We share a comfortable house near Macy's."

"Ha. Macy's. Yes, no wonder. Your sister still loves clothes, make-up and boys after all these while." She sighed. "And what about you my darling. Too shy to share your achievements with us?"

"Eh. Me? Oh. I got a job at an accountancy firm. Under one boss. Eight staff under me. Graduated with honours." Ha. I was getting a little smug, wasn't I?

"Oh, darling. You're fantastic. What's your pay like?"

"Six thousand a month."

"Oh, that's good." Compared to her dear son, my pay was nothing.

"Anyway, that's enough of me. Talk more about you instead, mom." Ooh. The food here was good. I'd already finished my salad. Mom was sipping the last of her chowder also. The price was worth it. No wonder Daph had always loved such high-class restaurants. And me? Home-cooked pasta's always the best? That had been my ridiculous theory.

"Oh, one more question." Mom flashed an excited face. But the server came over to block it.

"Can I clear these dishes and present you with our entrees?" He asked.

"Yes, please." Mom answered this time, a little annoyed.

"Sure." And there came our nice little dishes.

The chicken was good. Even though I couldn't taste the difference between organic chicken and those non-organic scruffy birds.

"Stella, how's your love life coming on?"

The question I'd been dreading. All these while.

"Oh darling. Mom hasn't seen neither Daph's or your first boyfriend. So, tell me a little more about you and Dylan. I'm dying to know."

"I thought you were Dylan's mom. Then, we're supposed to get into a relationship with him." I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Ha-ha. Stella, I totally forgot to tell you. Dylan's my step son. So I strongly promote him to you girls. He's one good guy."

"You sure?" I sighed.

I was far too relieved to care. Mom wasn't Dylan's biological mother. Which meant that either of the sisters could have a proper relationship with him. Phew. My heart was broken. At least Daph's heart wasn't.

"Darling, I've seen him grow up. Of course, I know."

"Oh." I replied lamely.

"So darling, tell me more." Mom demanded politely.

I scooped the buttered spinach into my mouth, savouring it. Then, I sipped a little of the wine. Hmm… Good wine.

"Darling, you're keeping on in suspense." Mom retorted, placing her fork pierced with salmon into her mouth.

"Ha-ha. Actually, Daph is Dylan's boyfriend. I'd just ditched mine a while ago." Yeah right. Ken was the one who ditched me a year ago.

"Are you sure? I swear you were the one at my house that day." Mom didn't believe. Lousy liar. That's me.

"Mom, you're forgetting who's who."

"Oh, maybe you're right. So how's their passionate relationship coming up?"

"Eh. Daph doesn't leak those juicy details. Go ask her yourself." I snapped.

"Oh darling. I've missed that cheerful older daughter of mine so much. And yes, my study-hard daughter too." She added when I made a face. "You've gotten yourself a great life. Great house, great job."

Yah. I'm just lacking a great man.

"Seriously, Dad. I don't know why." I snapped at the phone.

The phone beeped. There was another call for me.

"Hold on, Dad." I put a stop to Dad's whining.

"Dr Hudgens," Summer started with a grave tone.

Oh no. What now? I'd just finished the bloody extra twenty patients Liz slammed onto my waiting list. And what the hell is the time now? Seven forty nine. Oh well, damn.

"Yes, Summer?" Poor girl. She has to work extra too.

"Liz said there are four more cases." Bloody Liz.

"Isn't Dr White on duty? I'm going off soon." I snapped, irritated. Poor girl. Dr Hudgens was in a bad mood today.

"I don't know. Liz just called me. Two minutes ago."

"Where are the patients?" After I'm done with them, I'm going to give Liz hell.

"They're waiting outside your office." Summer said.

"Ok. Send them in. And sorry, Summer. You've got to work extra." I apologized.

"Yes, Dr Hudgens." And I heard her calling for Ms Pearly.

"Oh. And Dr Hudgens, do you want me to get dinner for you from the hospital canteen?" Summer asked politely.

This assistant was damn good.

"Oh. No thanks. Just another cup of coffee."

"Yes, Dr Hudgens." And she put the phone.

I diverted it back to Dad.

"What the hell took you so long?" Dad demanded.

"Dad, I'm at work in the first place. I'm not supposed to entertain personal calls."

"Don't give me the bullshit about that. Can't you be more concerned about your stepmother?"

"Dad, I am being concerned. I just checked with the credit card company. Patricia just blasted eighty over dollars on a meal at the Inlet. Checked it up already. A seafood restaurant at Atlantic City." I read out from the scrap piece of paper on my table.

Eh. I picked up a purple Post-it on my desk. 'Eight at Stella's house.'

Crap. It was already eight fifty one now.

"Ok. Dylan, what is with Patricia in the first place?" Dad didn't seem satisfied with my information.

Ms Pearly – who looked more like a Mr to me – strolled in.

"Got a patient now. Bye, Dad." And I slammed the phone down. And unplugged the entire damned telephone line.

"Yes, how can I help you?" I rattled off like a machine to the transvestite in front of me.

The second hand on the clock ticked by.

It passed twelve.

Eight eleven pm.

Where the hell was my Dylan Hudgens?

Oh my God.

I'm being bloody late.

After shoving my last patient away and warning Liz over the phone not to give me any more patients, I finally got away from the hospital.

"Liz's being such a bitch right?" Summer caught up with me as I walked into the car park.

Wow. She had totally transformed. From the girl in white uniform and a gold Alice band carefully pressed in to her, she changed out into a crème-coloured spaghetti top, a short denim skirt and black tights. But she kept her gold ballet flats.

"Yeah. She is." I thought Summer's definition of bitch was only restricted to a female dog.

"Ha-ha." Summer suddenly started laughing.

"Eh. What? Did a bird just flew onto my head?" I patted my head. Nothing.

"The way you're looking at me." She clarified, tossing her hair in the cold night wind.

"Yeah. You changed."

"I changed clothes. Don't worry, you won't see this rebellious side of Summer next morning." She reassured me, placing her hand onto my shoulder flirtatiously.

A Harley Davidson flew past.

"Bye Hudgens!" She kissed a air-goodbye before jumping onto the motorbike.

Hudgens. Doesn't that sound familiar?

Yes. It does. Stella used to call me that.

Bloody hell. Stella.

I jumped into my car and sped all the way to her house.

I was being damn late, I thought ringing the doorbell.

Eight thirty five.

Eight thirty four.

The second hand moved closer to twelve.

I lazed on the couch with my knickers on only. My hair was spread over the armrest.

Eight thirty five.

Oh well.

Dylan isn't coming any more.

He's got his gorgeous and real Stella by his side now.

Oh wait. He doesn't.

The doorbell rang.

I jumped off the couch and leaped into the bathroom.

"Hold on, Dylan. I'm coming." I called out after five seconds of wetting my hair and putting on my bra and a kids Zara skirt. It was meant for people aged 15 to 16. But oh well. I needed that length. The hips were a little tight but it covered only three quarters of my ass. That's the point. Flinging my towel onto my wet hair, I ran towards the door.

"I'm coming!" I chanted, fumbling with the simple lock.

"Ste-" Dylan stood there, shocked.

Ha. Exactly the way I planned.

"Oh, Dylan. I'm so sorry. I thought you weren't coming so I went in for a bath." I began in a sweet voice, holding my hair in place with one hand while tugging the hem of my bra down with the other.

There. Now my 32A hardly covered my tits.

And it's making them ache like crap. I'm supposed to be a 34C kind of person. But wearing smaller bras can make your tits pop up from that flimsy piece of cloth. So here's the desired effect. My overgrown tits trying to escape the new Victoria's Secret bra.

But ouch. Another five minutes in this, I'm going to die.

"Stella, I'm so sorry for being late. Got caught up in work at the hospital." Were his eyes being sympathetic? Or were they filled with lust?

If they were, then turn the heat up.

"Oh, never mind. What do you want to do now?" I asked.

What did I want to do know?

I want to rip off that disgusting bra of your off and caress you like a mad doctor. Seriously.

And seriously, I swore Stella's tits had never been so… so..


It seemed as though they were about to pop about from the bra itself.

And her ass.

Stella held the edge of the door open, leaning against it. So I had a clear half view of that perky ass of hers. And I seriously don't remember it being so wonderfully curvy.

It had been last night only.

And I don't mind moving my fingers up that super-short skirt of hers to take her again.

Oh my God.

So what did I exactly want to do?

Ooh. My 34C in a 32A plan had worked pretty well, huh?

Dylan was staring at me – I mean my tits – while thinking of what to do? It was damn obvious. He wanted to ravish me for the night.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I asked Dylan, pulling him in by his tie. Since he didn't answer, then I'll be the aggressive one.

Dylan looked into my eyes.


We were thinking about the same things.

Stella had me by my tie. Ooh. That was bloody sexy.

I wrapped my arms around her waist. She squirmed a little.

I pushed her hand away from the door, kicked my briefcase in and slammed the door shut.

"Seriously, dear, you can't wait, can you?" I rasped in between the Stella-initiated hot kisses.

Our lips moulded into one another's, her butterfly lashes trickling onto my cheek.

Wait. That's mascara.

"Just came out from a bath with mascara on?" I whispered again, pulling away to take a breather.

"Ha-ha. Not really." Stella feigned an innocent smile as I pushed her back onto the door. She shivered.

Oh. So she didn't just come out of the bath. She was there all along. And she flirting. And she was damn well good at it.

"Dylan, just take me. I can't wait anymore." Stella demanded.

And hey, Stella seems damn aggressive tonight. Ooh. And sexy too. I liked the new Stella.

We began ripping each other's clothes off while I pinned her onto the door.

And I don't think we'll make it to the bedroom or even the couch for sex. We'll just do it on the carpet.

After all, who cares about the venue?

It's the person who is more important.

I smiled at the sight of Stella's bare chest.

I love this sexy girl, man.

"What the hell, mom?" I rolled my eyes instantly.

"Ha-ha. Yes, my dear." She smiled and flashed her hotel card at me.

Mom was bloody staying in the same hotel as me. Or should I say, the suite opposite mine?

"You're a hideous stalker, mom." I protested.

"Ha-ha. Yes, my dear. " Oh no. She must have had too much Chardonnay just now.

But a less uptight mom seems nicer. And her life with Douglas seems as pleasant. Even though he's still marked as a bastard in my eyes.

"Ok, Mom. You're drunk. Go get rest for the night." I snatched her card away from her, opened the door and pushed her inside.

Then, I retreated into my room.

I sighed, plunging into the king-sized bed. Meant for two.

I sighed again, this time nearly in tears.

Tears of joy. Tears of jealousy. Tears of anger. Tears of confusion.

Tonight, I've gotten to know more about my mom. In fact, we're reunited again. But then, reunited without Daphne? What kind of family is that? And mom also mentioned that I had a great house, a great life, a great job, a great style, a great figure. Just lacking a great man. Which was supposed to be Dylan Hudgens. And where was he now? Probably making love with my older sister. My older sister. My damn lousy older sister, Daphne. She had never spent a second to care anything more about herself. Apart from her wardrobe. Her branded clothes, shoes and bags were her life. She didn't even bother about me, her younger sister. In fact, I was the one who sent her through university education – which didn't seem of much use, she thinks that bribing the boss is a better method to raise up the ranks – while I had to work and study to support both of us. And now, I'm slogging my way through a job. A boring accountancy job. Oh well. I actually like my office. So don't complain about my job.

But then, Daphne has a way better life than me.

And Daphne has a way better girlfriend than me.

And mom deserves a way better family than us.

And if I ever go back to Seattle – I definitely will have to, because of my job – what will I do?

Will I ever be able to face Dylan ever again?

Actually, yes I could. After all, Daphne and I were identical twins. Which mean it is very hard to tell us apart. So, Dylan would just treat me like I was Daph instead.

And Stella Swan will never be known again.

That's supposed to be my life right?

I sighed again.

And again.

And again until I fell asleep.


My bloody phone rang for the seventh time in the last hour.

"Dylan, either you switch that damn thing off, or just pick up the phone." Stella snapped, pushing me away and breaking the horny atmosphere.

I sighed, crawling off Stella while patting the pockets of my jeans for my phone.

Dad. The called ID read. Should have known.

"Dad?" I groaned at the damn phone. Stella 'tsk-ed' in the background.

"Dylan? It's nearly midnight now. Where the hell are you?" Dad snapped. Must have been Patricia's not back home yet.

Stella made a movement of snatching the phone from me and she whispered, "Oh dad, cut it out. I'm ravishing a very pretty girl." I giggled softly and put my fingers onto her soft lips to silence her.

"Dad, didn't I tell you I'm working late?" I sighed and resigned to lying again.

"I called the hospital. Dr White told me you had gone home for the day."

"Yes. I'm just out of the hospital. And I'm probably heading over to the bar before coming back home. Work is very stressful."

Stella gave me that look. 'Is making love with me stressful?' Her eyes told me. I smiled and shoved her away. She made a face at me.

"Ok, Dylan. But I want you to come back as soon as possible. Patricia is still not back yet. It's her second night away from home. Alone. And I need to talk to you." Dad sounded very grave.

"Yes, Dad. I'll promise to be home by one."

"See you." And he hung up on me.

"You suck at lying, Dylan." Stella glided over to my side and lay her head onto my knees.

"You suck at hosting guests." I muttered back.

"Hey. I'm good at entertaining you." And her attractive lips pushed into a pout.

"Ha-ha. Darling, I'd just came from a bloody stressful day of work and you forced me into sex. Now, I'm damn hungry. Show me the food." I bent down to nudge her with my lips.

She ended up biting my lips instead.

"I'm the food." She whispered, nearly taking me by the lips for another kiss.

"Damn it. I want the real food, man."

"Ok. I'll go get it."

I put back my tiny lingerie back on and went skipped to the kitchen cheerfully.

Sex with Dylan is so damn good, it brightens up the whole place.

Until I opened the bloody fridge, that is.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

Where the hell is all the food? I checked all the compartments.

No. Nothing.

Moved onto the cupboard. Oh crap. There were some food. Lasagne, I think.

But how the hell do you cook the damn instant-made lasagne sheet? More like shit to me.

Oh no. The bloody kitchen had been like total stranger to me even when Stella was here. What more now? I have to cook?! Oh God.

I think I'll settle for a lame excuse.

"Dylan?" I shouted at the top of my voice.

"Darling?" I could see him hop off and couch and stroll towards me. His bare chest. And hot, hot legs. How sexy was that. Lucky his briefs were on. If not, I couldn't imagine the amount of horny thoughts in my mind.

I danced towards him and jumped onto his open arms. He held me my my cheeks and leant down for a hot, wet kiss. His tongue was lapping at the back of my throat. Oh my freak. It felt damn good. I threw my arms around his neck and started nudging his inner thighs with my ankles.

A few seconds later, I wanted to pull away to tell him about our starving predicament. But Dylan didn't just want a kiss. He walked a few steps forward and drove me against the kitchen wall, all this time, his lips kept firmly onto mine as we intertwined our fingers and tongues. Then, he moved his damn tongue down, down, down.

Past my jaw, my collarbones, my bra straps, my cleavage. Oh my God. His fingers were playing with the lace on the bra, threatening to tug them out immediately. I sank lower too, my heart melting at his touches. His fingers traced down my waist and over my hips, making little patterns over the bone before fiddling with my knickers.

That naughty boy.

His tongue made sticky, wet patterns all over my tits before trailing down to his destination. My bloody crotch. Oh well, it was bloody at all. It was hot and wet, just waiting for the erection. Or whatever. Dylan pulled my knickers down, an inch by an inch, trailing down my thighs. My inner thighs flared with desire. I had never wanted a man so much. Ever in my life.

"Hurry up, I'm dying here." I rasped, my voice completely drained out as he hooked my knickers off my ankles. Damn. This guy was taking it slow while I'm stuck in this damn weird position, offering both my crotch and tits to him.

"Ha-ha. I'm coming, darling." Oh my God. I felt his hot breath on my inner thighs. He was so damn near, man. I opened my eyes a little, still soaking in ecstasy. Ooh. He was heading….

For a blowjob.

Stella tumbled onto me after I had enough of blowing her. I sank onto my knees, carrying her in my arms. Oh well. Why must we always land on the carpet of sex? Be it whatever kind of sex.

"Dylan, honey. I haven't had the time to go to Wal-Mart's these few days. Do you mind pizza?" Stella asked, her fingers playing on my erection. Damn. It pulsed with anticipation to take her once more. I resisted it.

"Anything's fine as long it's with you." I kissed her softly on her hair.

"Really? That's great. I'll go call for the pizza man. While you can restart your hear for a moment. You look as if you need some rest." She rattled on as she pulled on her knickers and got up for the phone.

"Darling, I'm not that old. But you're so good, you're actually wearing me out." I tinkled a faint sexy smile at her.

"Yes, Dylan. I can entertain you while waiting for the food and over supper too." She was already heading into her room. Her freaking sexy ass waved hi at me. I swallowed my saliva. When had Stella Swan gotten ever so sexy?

"That's a perfect idea." I said as I smacked my tongue onto my lips.

I took of the top layer of cheese from the pizza and slapped it onto my bare tits. I nudged Dylan's shoulders and pointed onto the burning cheese on my soft skin. He laughed and leaned forward to lick the cheese off my tits and cleavage.

"What an interesting way to eat." Dylan, chuckled, smiled and smacked his lips at the same time.

"But it's delicious, isn't it?" I protested. I'd done that a few times with Brian. He always gave me a bigger wade of notes to spend after that. So I deduced that men do like to eat from a lady's tits.

"Yes, darling. Try it again." Dylan demanded, after stealing a sip of my coke.

This time, I slapped another layer of cheese on my cleavage, balanced it there and offered it to Dylan.

"Nice try, waitress." Dylan tinkled a suave smile before chewing everything up. And landed a huge smacker onto my lips.

"Ugh! You're spoiling my lips gloss!" I complained, flinging my pizza back into the box and readjusted my lashes.

Dylan just stared at me.

Oh wait.

Stella never behaved like that. Oh well. I'm Daphne.

"Darling," Dylan suddenly leaned close to me. My butterfly lashes trickled onto his cheek. His hot breath was jagged on my upper lips.

"I love you." He said simply.

"I love you too." I muttered back before he wrestled me all the way back to my room.

And we spent another hour up there love-making before Dylan's Dad rushed him back home at two in the morning.

And I finally fell asleep, thinking about…


Dad started to give me a lecture as soon as I reached home.

"I thought you said you'll be back by one o'clock. Look at the clock, young man. It's twenty past two!" Like I had been paying attention to him. My mind was completely somewhere else.

"Dad, We got caught up in drinking." I retorted. Stella, her name pounded hard in my ears. I need to get away from Dad to think.

"Oh come on, can't you just come back home a little earlier to accompany me? I'm all lonely again ever since Patricia went missing." Dad started whining. Oh crap.

"Ok. I promised tomorrow, I'll be back before midnight."

"Midnight? I'm going to sleep already!" Dad protested.

"Ok. You can join me for lunch. Meet you at Starbucks." Oh please, just agree to the damn arrangement.

"That's better."

"Can I go back to my room now? I've got a hangover to nurse." I complained as I made my way up.

"No, Dylan. Get your ass back here. We haven't settled the problem yet."

"What problem?" I protested. Stella, Stella, Stella. Come on, Dad, give me break. I need to think about Stella. Soon.

"Patricia's still not home."

Of course she isn't. If she was, you two would be blissfully sleeping up there. Together. Naked. Just like what Stella and I would do back at her house. Ugh.

"Ok. Dad, I tell you what. I'll book a ticket for you tomorrow morning to New Jersey. You go find Patricia. If you can't, I'll join you over the weekends. Ok?" I slapped my forehead with the back of my hand.

"I'm fine with that. But I can't leave tomorrow. Earliest, in the evening. I've got an appointment with an old friend."

"Sure. Yes. Whatever."

"Ok, son. You're tired." Like who didn't know. "Go back up and rest."

And I dashed all the way up in fatigue.

Stella Swan.

Stella Swan.

Stella Swan.

The new Stella Swan.

The sexier, more reckless, more humorous, more fickle-minded Stella.

Her split personality is coming back again.

The more-reserved, responsible, mature, hot, curvy, sensible, and still sexy Stella is gone.

I woke up the next morning, only to find my eyes are all red and puffy. Crying in between my sleep certainly didn't help with my dark eye rings either. No wonder Dylan had never found me attractive.

I sighed, dabbing on eyeliner and mascara to conceal those irritating flaws of mine.

But then, there wouldn't ever be enough concealer in the world to blend my flaws away.

I sighed again, shrugging into a dark blue tank top and a dark brown skirt. Only to realize, that was my last set of clothing left – because I'll never wear that light pink dress in my bag pack. Which means I have to shop today.

And when I told mom that, she didn't seem too disheartened.

"Ooh. Shopping!" She clasped her hands together as though she was an eight-year old girl whose mom had just bought her a doll. A branded one. Probably Armani.

"You don't mind that, right?" Well, mom used to. That was in the past. I had remembered she saying about shopping is just a waste of time and money. Nobody should go shopping, they should just go buying. Well, that theory certainly didn't apply anymore.

"Of course not, darling. I've been waiting to check the stores out here in Atlantic City." Oh no. Mom's going to blast some hundreds on me. For sure.

After a delicious buffet breakfast at the hotel, mom flagged for a taxi and we were on our way to the Pier Shops.


This was certainly worse than I had expected.

"Stella darling, what do you think of this?" Mom charged – ok, that's hyperbole – towards me, flinging a few pieces of flimsy and transparent clothing at me.

I threw each piece of clothing over one another. A silver silk top(totally no way, I nearly fainted at the price tag) a denim trench coat, (oh no, far too stylish for Stella Swan) – a green striped halter(mom actually thought that I was such a slut? The thing was so revealing!) and lastly, a black ruffled shirt(I have far too many of those for work).

Seriously, even I couldn't find suitable clothes in Armani Exchange?

"How, darling?" Mom came back to me with another pile of clothes. I hoped deep in my heart that that was so not meant for me.

"Eh. Mom, this is far too-" I hushed myself, "expensive." And back to normal volume. "This is too classy, this is too revealing, and I have too many of this at home already." I explained, throwing the clothes over mom's shoulders.

"Should have known," Mom muttered while she threw the handful of clothing resting on her elbow towards me.

"You shall not return this." Mom said. I tried to protest. She silenced me with her finger on my lips. I kept quiet just like a little girl. "I'm very sure, Stella. That you'll love these. I specially handpicked them for you. Now, go try them on and tell my your size. And we're done here." She rattle on the instructions.

I nodded. She strutted off. I slumped towards the changing room.

Sighing, I flicked the lock over and turned towards the full-length mirror in front of me. I hung the rest of the clothes up and picked up something pink.

I swished it over the length of my body and covered my eyes. Please let it be something I like, please. Seriously, I wouldn't want mom to buy it and I'll leave there sitting in my wardrobe for the rest of forever.

And I opened my eyes very slowly.

"Wow! I love this man!" I chirped excitedly, pulling the dress over my head.

Hmm… I examined the person in the mirror. It was a pink, strapless bubble dress. Usually, I would have killed myself for even trying to think about wearing it. But, hey, it really looks nice. The pink blended it with my soft skin and brought out the colours of my eyes. The black hemming on the ends also enhanced my mascara. It was perfect. Mom was good at this.

The next one: I had also covered my eyes and prayed very hard. It turned out to be pretty good as well. The white halter was a little on the revealing side but at least it didn't have a low neckline like the previous one. Mom had also doubled it up with a light brown sweater so it looks perfectly fine. Another one down.

In the end, I took everything. Apart from the dress, the halter and the sweater, there was still a cargo jacket, denim skirt, another khaki-coloured dress, a ruffled collar shirt and a light pink silk skirt.

And the price in total was: four hundred and seven. Not bad for mom's taste. Because she spent six hundred and two dresses and a pair of jeans for herself.

"Knew you would love it," Mom chirped happily as she signed on the receipt and handed it back to the cashier.

"Yes, mom. How did you know?" I asked distractedly. I was too happy with my new clothes to even bother.

"Ha-ha. I'm your mom. Of course I know what colour goes with your skin, eyes and hair. And what will bring out the best in you." And she looked pointedly at my chest. I rolled my eyes and protested.

"Daphne's assets are more than mine." I complained, as a reflex, I brought my shopping bags to cover my tits.

"Ha-ha. Ok, now for Ann Taylor's?" Mom chipped in.

I couldn't say no to my fabulous mom, right?

Britney was such a bitch.

"Hey Daphne," She began in a disgusting voice, "Brian wants you to come back for work." Pause. "Today."


"I have the entire week off. So shut the hell out of you." I protested, considering how much would it cost to get me a new phone after I threw this one over the porch.

"Oh really. You wouldn't be that smug after you come back here. Brian wants you back." She repeated as though she was the boss.

"Like when?" I gave in. Brian was my access to my money. I couldn't upset my bank.

"Now." She sounded so damn bitchy that I felt like slapping her right across that ugly face of hers.

"Fine. Bit- I mean, Britney, I'm coming over." I slammed the phone down on her and stomped back into my bedroom.

What the time now was it? I walked towards my nightstand. Oh well, twelve forty-five. Still, Brian couldn't possibly ask me to go back to work. I'm his darling. I shouldn't work!

Ugh. Whatever.

And even if I'm going back to that damned office, I promise I'll be there for less than an hour. I'm not even going to attempt to touch the make-up. Unless they're giving free supplies! Ooh. I can't wait. Imagine that Estee Lauder's latest range of mascara….

In the meantime, I'd better get dressed and be on my way.

I piled on a pale yellow silk halter – it looks like cheesecake to me, speaking of which, I'm hungry. Better grab lunch for going – and a pair of skinny jeans. Scraping through the smoky eyes make-up and a dab more of the blush, Brian's so going to fall for me. Plus I'm wearing new shoes! The silver leather pumps from . Bought with Brian's money, of course.

And so, I was on my way to the Brian Bank of Daphne Land.


"What?" I slapped my hand onto Britney's table. Damn. It hurt like hell.

"Brian said wait. He has a client inside." Britney the bitch explained once more. I rolled my eyes.

"Ugh. Whatever." I muttered, crossing my arms under my tits and strolling over to one side. Damn. I should have worn heels instead. And more revealing clothes. This halter didn't have a neckline that will flash nearly half of tits. This only gives the guys an insight to your cleavage, tempting them. And I'm wearing skinny jeans. They cover everything. Oh well.

Some blond-hair, blue-eyed guy walked out of Brian's office. Ooh. One hot one.

I sashayed into Brian's office. Britney stopped me.

"Now what?" I complained as she strolled across the waiting room, stopping me.

"Brian said wait. He's on the phone." Britney explained.

"Damn it. I don't come here just to be told to wait."

"Of course not. You're here to work. Actually, there's a fashion show next week. Brian might want to you to go over and help." Britney rattled off as she tore off a post-it from her table.

"Help? Richard's the make-up artist for they puny show already."

"Yes. And you're supposed to help him." Britney excused herself from a phone call and muttered irritably at me.

"Oh crap. I hold a degree in make-up and hair styling and you want me to go help that bloody immature idiot?" I muttered to myself. Brian waved me in. I took a deep breath, stuck out my tits and walked in.

"Daphne Swan." Brian breathed as he tapped his fingers onto his computer. I slid into the chair opposite him and leaned forward, tugging the neckline of my shirt lower from under. He couldn't see from there.

"Yes, Brian. I mean, boss?" I twitted sweetly.

"I think I need you to come back to work. Jay has taken two weeks of sick leave. He's broken his arm. So, I need you to replace him." Brian didn't even take his eyes off the LCD monitor to even check my outfit out.

Anyway, damn that Jay.

"No way, Brian. Jay's in charge of the make-up supplies only. I'm a make-up artist. How could I do his lowly job?" I protested.

"Darling, easier job. Same pay." Now, he turned his torso to face me. I straightened up to show him one of my nicest shirt and tugged the neckline a little lower. He smiled a little. I was getting my desired effects.

"But that job requires carrying tons of make-up around and making sure that each artist has adequate supplies." I whined.

"And so?" Brian asked, folding his hands under his chin. His eyes were on my chest. Disgusting oldie.

"I wear heels. You want me to break them. Eh. No. And what about my back. I can't carry heavy stuff." Brain tried to protest. I knelt onto the chair, leaning across the table and placed a finger onto his lips. He kept quiet. I wondered what fixated his eyes like that. Of course. My plunging neckline. "Furthermore, when I bend down to carry stuff, I'm exposing what I keep private for you. Just like now." I whispered softly at the end.

"Darling, I would love to. But… There's shortage of workers." Brian lamented.

"That's easy. Employ more."

"Who would want to work for two weeks only. Carrying boxes around. It doesn't pay much."

"Fine. Let Britney do that work. I'll be your secretary. And you don't have to give me the leave anymore. I'll come back to work…" I was tempted to say Friday but settled for "tomorrow. Happy, Brian?"

"Oh no no no. Britney must stay here. Just outside of my office." I shot him a what-the-hell look. "Of course, she's my secretary. She knows everything so I can't move her." Brian stuttered a little over the explanation.

Which meant he was keeping something from me.

"Whatever,. Brian. Whatever. Seriously. I'm doing any other job expect that bloody Jay's job." I insisted, now my knees were climbing off the table and onto Brian's table. I swung my ankles under my ass and sat right in front of him.

"Daph, get off the damn table." He muttered, sweeping his contracts away from my silver pumps.

The phone rang. He put it on speaker mode.

"Brian?" Britney began her whining.

This didn't sound good. Brian rolled his eyes and made a gesture to shove me off his work desk.

"Yes, Britney?" Brian picked up the receiver and held a hand over his mouth as his spoke.

But I'm a woman. Naturally, muffled voices don't hinder me.

And through that thin glass door, I could hear Britney filing her nails and the clink of her high heels against her table.

That bitch.

"Ok, darling." Brian suddenly paused. He looked a me. I quickly swiped my head towards the panel on his right wall, pretending I didn't hear anything. "I mean," He cleared his throat. "Sure, Britney. But apparently, I have a guest in my office now and it will my to my utmost inconvenience." A load of crap, I say.

Britney must have slammed down the phone because Brian looked so dejected while flinging the receiver back. The high heels clinked again from outside. A soft thud. Must have been the nail filer dropping onto the table. And the dull probing sound. I knew that one. Heels threading on carpeted floor. Britney the bitch was coming inside. Here. With me.

I bet I'm going to suffocate from lack of fresh air. Her get-lost bitchy vibes were far too obvious.

"Brian." Britney tapped on the glass door. Brian rolled his eyes and let her stroll in.

"Britney, my dear." Brian greeted her and showed her to the empty chair next to me. Ugh.

"Well, Brian. I think there's some explaining to be done." Britney started. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh my dear secretary, what's that?" Brian said. Feigning innocence. I knew that look.

"Me, you and… Daphne." Was my name that horrible? I really felt like slapping the bitch.

"You two are co-workers. And I'm your boss. The end. Now, you may go out, Britney." Brian was totally stuttering, and anxious. Afraid that I'd discover your other love? Ha-ha, Brian. It's not that easy to fool me.

"Oh Brian. What about the nights we spent together? You weren't my boss that night." The bitch started again. Brian looked as if he was an ostrich. He needed a hole to dig his head into. And me? I was just taking this too easily. I was just losing a bank, that's all. I could find loads more at a strip club. All the oldies, just like Brian.

But now, I'd just needed to act a little.

"What?" I stood up suddenly. "What do you mean by that, you bitch?" I shrieked. The entire building full of workers could certainly hear me.

"Daph, just cool down. It's a misunderstanding." Brian tried to cool the two raging ladies. The bitch had already stood up, threatening to point that middle finger of hers.

"Misunderstanding. That's a load of bullshit, Brian. You said you loved me. Yeah right. You don't. You just love this girl who just called me a bitch. A bitch." Now she started waving that finger at me.

"Yeah right. You're the one full of bullshit." I said pointedly at Brian. "And you're the bitch. So the bull and the bitch lived happily ever after. The pretty one is so out of here." Wow. I didn't know I could be so drama. All that sarcasm.

"No. Daph. No." Brian pulled my back by elbow.

I really wanted to laugh out loud. What is this? The battle of the co-workers? Over who? Brian, the retarded boss. To be more specific, his money. Which girl in the right mind would want Brian?

"Brian, you'd better get this right. It's me or the slut, do you want?" Wow. The bitch named me the slut.

"Darling, dear. Please." Brian begged.

I waved Brian's hands off me. And said…

"Brian, I don't need your love anymore. You're such a jerk. And you know what, to think that you'd spent two thousand dollars on our sex getaway to Hawaii," The bitch's eyes widened. "Now, there's no need. I'm just going to cancel the tickets and spend it. On clothes. And you know what, I'm on two weeks leave. Speaking of which, if you're not happy. Then fire me. I deserve a better boss and boyfriend than you." I spat in his face. I picked up my handbag and walked straight out.

Humph. I had expected some tears. So I wasn't that drama after all.


Stepping out into the open air, I felt so free.

Now, I'm true to Dylan. I did nothing wrong to Bryan's wife too. I'm free.

Oh wait.

Not really.

I'm Daphne Swan.

Not Stella.

And Dylan still didn't know that.

Oh well, damn.

Patricia was still not back yet.

And Dad's moping around like crap.

I seriously didn't like this.

"Dad, please." I begged him as he helped himself into my Porsche.

"Please what?" His lips were in a tight, straight line. Was life really that hard without Patricia. Oh wait. Yes. Imagine life without Stella. I'd bet I'll mope more than Dad. Because I loved her. Oh well, I've got some seriously impending problems here. The rest will have to wait.

"Come on, you're acting like this is the end of the world."

"Isn't this? Patricia's gone. For good. She doesn't love me anymore. She has run away with another man." Dad exclaimed.

"Dad, when did you come up with this theory? Patricia loves you a lot. She would never run away with some other guy. She's far too loyal to the family to do that." I protested, starting the engine.

"Then what other explanation can you come up with?" Dad rebuked.

"Ok. You know what? There's no point, sitting in my car, guessing why Patricia had ran away. The point is: how to get her back."

"Yeah right, son. We're going to the airlines now. To book a ticket. To fly over to New Jersey and get Patricia's ass back here."


Hmm… That word suddenly struck me like lightning.

And with the lightning, a light bulb appears.

An idea.

"Hold on, Dad. What if we cannot find Patricia there. After all, Atlantic City is huge." I said.

"You're discouraging me now?" Dad rolled his eyes.

"No. I was just thinking, why not make Patricia come back to us? Instead of flying over to see her. You know, you're not in good health. I just can't bear to pack your bags and send you there all alone."

"Ha-ha. Make her come back. What a brilliant idea." Dad mocked at me.

"What's wrong with it?" I protested.

"How, that's the point."

"That's easy. We just need to announce something over Atlantic City's newspaper and when mom reads it, she'll fly back immediately."

"Yeah right. What are we going to announce?" Why must Dad also be so reproving? Ugh.

"Oh well. I've got a perfect idea. And we don't need to head to the airlines anymore. Let's go to Macy's instead. There's a nice restaurant near there." I tried to sound happy. Happy that this solution will benefit everyone.

Oh crap. Dad just nodded grimly.

Wait till I show him what a genius his son is.

Today must have been the best day of my life.

I just swept off a gorgeous green dress from the sale rack of Ann Taylor's when a call from Dylan made my life so much better.

Actually ditching Brian was the best ever thing today.

Oh well. Dylan made it even better.

" summer sales!" I screamed as I dashed into one of my favourite shop.

Hmm.. Looking around, I spotted a familiar-looking light blue suede heels. Really pretty. But it seems that I've bought that pair. Now, where did I keep it?

I tapped lightly on my chin as I inspected another pair sparkling green ballet-flats. Should go well with my new dress.

And that pair of blue heels were meant for…


Great. Stella, my baby sister. Where the hell had she gone to? Didn't come back home last night and her bathroom floor is completely dry. She didn't come back home at all? Hey. Then did she even watch the show I put on for her with Dylan that night? Seriously. She really didn't come back home from that trip to the mart.

Oh no.

Could she be kidnapped?

The chances of me being kidnapped is much higher. So, no.

Could she be in jail?

In jail, for what? Speeding? Littering? Murder? Eh, no. I'll probably be shot-dead by the time she gets sentenced by the judge.

Oh crap.

So where the hell could she be?

Or did she really see that sex performance and decided to run away from home?

Eh, no. No. No. Stella wasn't that childish.

Damn it. Then where was she?

I drove down to Tiffany's and left the store with my hands slightly heavier but my wallet slightly lighter. Then, I picked up a bouquet of roses from the florist before heading down to Stella's.


I balled my fists up and tried to restrained my erection.

Damn it.

Why must Stella always be so sexy?

Tonight, she's dressed in a wonderfully flared green dress, the hem slightly flared with an empire waist and a dangerously low neckline. The halter straps ran up her neck and settled in between her beautiful blond-brown hair. My eyes strolled down and caught her slender thighs and slightly muscles calves. Her petite shoes. Ooh. How adorable.

But all in all, my Stella was extremely attractive.

And I'm going to make her mine tonight.

"Why must you always make me forget myself?" I complained, grumbling and panting at the same time as Dylan finally let go of me.

"Ha-ha. Blame it on your sexiness. I couldn't help myself." He drew his erection out from me, kissed me on my crotch and I quivered. He smiled smugly.

"Whatever, naughty boy. What brings you here tonight?" I threw my arms over his shoulder and demanded for a kiss.

His perfect lips dived down to meet mine, trailing hot, wet love bits all over my neck. I draped one arm over his back inching up. He crawled on his knees and pinned me onto the back of the couch, ravishing me. My mouth moulded into his, taking in as much as his scent as possible. Dylan's tongue darted in between my lips and savoured me completely. While his hands were doing naughty things all over me. One hand tugged on the ends of my nicely-styled hair while the other teased the sensitive parts of tits, making me moan. He made a groaning sound at the back of his throat. I joined, teasing his lips while moving my hands lower to cup his erection. It pulsed in my hands. Dylan squirmed a little.

And finally, he decided to stop.

I pulled away my hands reluctantly. Dylan sighed.

"Darling, I need to you something. But you keep on distracting me." Was that tone in his voice good or not. I've learnt from dramas that if a guy tells you 'we need to talk', it's over between the two of you.

Please, please, please. I don't want to lose such a good guy like Dylan Hudgens.

"Speak." I muttered, playing with his hands and not looking into his eyes.

Dylan remained silent for the next two seconds. I didn't look up either. This must really be a difficult subject to start. Then, I heard his hands tapping onto the carpet. He picked his jeans up while his fingers wriggled in between, finding something. From under my lashes, I saw him sink to the floor and picked up the bouquet of flowers he bought for me.

Break-up usually don't relate with flowers, I thought.

"Stella, I love you." Dylan spoke sincerely, pulling my chin up and forcing me to stare into his eyes.

I took a deep breath, hoping that his next sentence wouldn't be, 'but I love someone else more'.

"Do you love me?" He probed again, his shivering fingers pressing lightly on my wrist.

"Yes. I do. I love you too much, for my good." I muttered, blushing. Dylan's fingers stopped shivering and a calm smile took over his mask of nervousness. He took a deep breath.

"Then, marry me, Stella. Marry me. I'll promise to take care of you, every single day of my life. I promise we'll be the happiest couple ever on Earth. Marry me. I love you."

Marry Dylan?

Oh my God. This is…

"Unexpected, darling. We're moving too fast." I said, my breath nearly knocked out of me.

"But Stella, I love you." He muttered, confused and disappointed.

"I love you too." I muttered back.

"Then, marry me." He pulled out a silver velvet box. My heart skipped a beat. He opened it slowly. A flash of diamond crusted onto the ring appeared. It was so pretty.

"Yes." I whispered.

"You'll marry me?" Dylan asked, incredulous.

"I'll marry you." I shouted back, flinging my arms over him.

"Oh crap. I mean, oh great!" Both of us chirped in laughter. Dylan presented me with the roses, I took a deep sniff and raised my shoulders. He kissed my cheeks and slipped the ring on.

"Perfect fit." I muttered, in awe of the sparkling stones that nestled close to each other on my finger.

"Perfect wife." Dylan teased, sweeping in the back of my knees and scooped me into his arms. Even his cradle seem to fit me perfectly. He twirled me around and around before I complained and ended up wrestling on the floor.

"I swear, we're the first ever couple to get engaged. Naked." He rasped in between kisses.

I laughed.

This was the best, right?

The best thing that could happen to me, ever.

Oh wait.

No, it isn't.

Dylan's marrying Stella Swan.

Not Daphne Swan.

Dylan doesn't even know that Daphne existed.

Oh crap.

And how am I going to tell him that I'm here, in the place of Stella, replacing her for those sweaty and sexy nights? And that he's preparing to marry a girl who he doesn't know the name of?

Bloody hell.

That's the worst thing that ever happened to me.

And Stella's not back.

Double trouble.

Dad rattled over the phone, grumbling why I hadn't gone home for the night.

Usually, I would get damn irritated. But then, having to sleep for seven hours with my fiancé was blissful.

"Darling," I whispered, after hanging up on Dad. I kissed Stella on her forehead, damp with sweat.

"Hmm… Dylan." She propped herself up with her elbows and kissed me lightly on my lips. That was enough to rouse me. But I restrained myself and I need to tell Dad the good news and get to work.

"Stella, I need to go now. See you.

"Call me." She protested, as I stepped out of the bed and dressed myself back in the black and purple shirt and DKNY jeans.

I nodded, hugging her for the last time as I walked out of the house.

Eight hours was a long time to bear till I get to see Stella again.


"Grr… Move your ass here son." Wow. Dad was grumpy. Did lack of sex made a man like that? Ha. At least, I wouldn't be. Because I had my darling finance.

"Yes, dad?" I chirped. He narrowed his eyes at me.

"Lend me your Porsche."

"Eh. No. For what?"

"I'm going to drive down to the travel agency now."

"Dad…" I complained. Didn't I mention that his son was such a genius?

"Now." He protested.

"Dad, seriously. There's no need."

"Patricia's back in town?" His eyes lit up. I shook my head. His head lowered in disappointment.

"But I have a even better piece of news!" I exclaimed.

"Like what?" Dad spoke in an uninterested voice.

"I'm going to get married!" I chirped.

"Huh?" This wasn't the response I'd expected.


"You. Are. Getting. Married?" Dad looked at me, confused and dazed.

"Yes. I. Am?" I repeated the way he spoke.

It took another three seconds for the message to sink in.

"Oh great, son! Dylan, you're getting married. Your mom in heaven would be so proud of you. Patricia's teachings these years have paid off too. And if only she was here to share my joy."

"Dad, it's ok. I'm going to announce Stella and I's engagement on Atlantic City's newspaper." I explained.

"Patricia's going to read it…" Dad continued.

"And she's surely coming back!" Father and son chimed together. And we slapped a dainty hi-five.

"Way to go, Dylan!" Dad slapped me on the back.

"Thanks, Dad."

"So when do I get to see the girl?"

"Oh. Stella. She's wonderful. I'll let you two oldies get a good look of her once Patricia come back."

"Fantastic." Dad clapped his hands together.

"Ok. I've got to move. A lot things to settle." I excused myself.

Dad nodded and I ran all the way up my room.

"Baby, come over here. It's a good piece of news I've got to share with you." Mom patted on the empty place on her bed. I gave up folding my new branded clothes into my bag. It was seriously too small.

Mom laughed at my expression and promised to buy me a new one.

"So, what is the good news?" I asked, poking my nose into the Atlantic City's press mom was browsing through.

"Baby, take a look here. Isn't it great?" Mom was pointing at an announcement.

"This is to announce the engagement of Dylan David Hudgens and Stella Kelly Swan. The…" I didn't bother to read on.

My mind was whirling, trying to find the explanation to this announcement. Stella Michelle Swan. Daphne Kelly Swan. I didn't accept any proposal from Dylan. I didn't even see him for the last three days. He didn't know where I was either. Unless…

"Oh, baby. But my poor stepson has given the wrong middle name. Yours is Michelle. Daphne's one is then Kelly. Did you tell him the wrong thing?" Mom's constant blabbering faded away in my ears.

Of course. Why not? Why hadn't I thought of that?

I couldn't see properly anymore. I couldn't even see mom. My eyes were brimming with tears. My wet lashes blinked a few times. The salty droplets of water flowed down my cheeks.

"Baby, you've must have been so touched by Dylan right? He'd actually placed the announcement here." Mom patted my shoulders. I cried harder.

Dylan must have placed the announcement in the newspaper of every single city in US.

"Baby, stop crying. It's a good event. Now, it's time to go pack up. We're going to go back. For your wedding."

"No. No. No. Mom, no."

"What, Stella? Why no?"

"No. I'm not marrying Dylan." How I wished I could.

"Is there something wrong? I know arranging weddings are difficult. I can help. But you can't break an engagement like that, Stella."

"No, mom. He doesn't know."

"Know what? Stella, can you just stop crying and tell me everything."

I took a deep breath and wiped my tears away with the back of my band.

"Dylan thinks that he's marrying me. But remember, I told you. He's with Daphne. So he thinks that Daphne is me. Because we're twins. And…"

I could continue anymore. I couldn't even see mom. My eyes were brimming with tears. Everything was a blur in front of me.

"Oh, baby." Mom sighed. I dived my head in between her knees. Big fat tears rolled down my cheeks uncontrollably.

"Mom, I don't want to go back home. Can we stay here forever?" I muttered innocently as mom made comforting patterns trailing on my back with her gentle fingers.

"No, darling. We have to get back as soon as possible. We have to settle the problem. Like now." Mom lifted my head up with great care and propped my shoulders back into position.

"Mom, no. No. I don't want to. I'm too scared to face them." I began whimpering, tears dripping down my face soaked with salt water.

"Darling, listen to me." She pushed my chin up, forcing me to look into her beautiful blue eyes.

I nodded meekly.

"I don't care whether my retarded stepson has mistaken you for your sister or vice versa. But the fact is, do you love him? If you do, we'll fly back home this instant. We need to clear this up. If we don't, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. It's not that easy to find a soul mate. And you deny your love for him, I'll treat this as nothing, we'll go back to shopping and if Daphne even remember you, we'll go back for the wedding. Now, take your pick."

Did I love Dylan?

No. I tried to say no.

But my heart ached for the future. My bleak future without him. Without his warm embrace and his hot breath. Life would seem so meaningless without him. I would feel so jealous as Daphne moved around him, or when they're fussing about their children.

Yes, that would be their future. Daphne's and Dylan's future, three years from now. If they get married, have kids and stuff like that. I could imagine Daphne sitting on the porch, nursing her bulging belly as Dylan skipped around the backyard, playing the kite with a young two-year-old boy. Daphne would laugh merrily, running her fingers through her silky hair as her fiancé scooped her son up and swung his around. Then, Dylan would walk towards her, plant a wet kiss on her plump lips. The way their lips mould into each other's. The way Dylan wrapped her arms around her curvy figure. The way Dylan would caress Daphne every night.

The way I wanted my life with Dylan to be like.

I sighed, choking on my tears and regret.

I couldn't stand. I just couldn't sit there, seeing the lovebirds like that. I wanted a share of love too. And wasn't I the first one who spotted Dylan? Dylan was supposed to be mine at first, wasn't it? Why must Daphne even come into the picture.

Now, I imagined myself in the shoes of Daphne instead. I'll be dressed in a sweet-looking light blue sundress, a light bulge from my torso – the proof of our love, the child of our lives – while Dylan would smile at me, dazzling me in a plain polo tee and jeans. We would push the trolley down the aisle in the supermarket. Dylan would pick up a can of tomatoes. We'll debate over GM or non-GM food before I relented and he would reward me with a kiss. Then, we'll drive straight down to the cashier, feeling oh-so-warm from that arousing kiss. I would then scold Dylan in his Porsche for speeding on the road. My husband would then pinch my cheeks and teased me about another afternoon of love-making.


Wasn't that the life I wanted?

Just a happy family. And someone to care for me. Someone to love me.

And wasn't that person supposed to be Dylan all along?

Yes. He had to be.

Because I loved him.

A lot.

"Mom," I sounded much more resolved now, "We'll go back now. This instant." I nodded grimly.

"Oh, my baby." Mom landed a sweet kiss on my cheeks and said, "Yes. We will catch the night flight so in the meantime, let's gear up for some more shopping." Mom announced excitedly.

I nodded as Mom led me out of the door.

In another twelve hours time, I would be reunited with Dylan.

Hold on, what if Dylan had forgotten me all these while?

Maybe now, he loved Daphne.

And not me.





Where the heck was Stella?

The real Stella Swan?

Not the fake imposter, me obviously, panicking on the couch in my living room.


I picked up the phone and dialled for her number again.

"Hey, Stella here, not free to pick up the phone. Just leave your number after the beep and I'll get back to you a.s.a.p." My sister's voice chimed back at me.

Bloody hell.

The damn answering machine.


I unplugged the cord of the phone and reeled it across the room. It crashed into the wall and cracked into a dozen pieces.

I fished my phone out from my Hermes bag and dialled for her workplace.

A guy picked up the phone.

"Erm. Can I speak to Stella Swan?" I cooed into the phone. This guy really sounded sweet.

"Hey. Are you Stella's sister?" The guy asked back.

"Eh. Yeah. So any idea if she's at work?" I quipped with hope.

"Eh. No, she's not. Don't you have any idea that she's on a holiday?"


A holiday?

I'm in a crisis now.

Oh wait.

I'm not Stella.

"Oh really. When did she leave? Obviously, she didn't tell me and I'm worrying like crap now." And I wasn't worried about her. I was worried for myself.

What if Dylan suddenly met Stella –the real Stella – and then Dylan spoils everything by calling her the fiancé and stuff like that.


I'm stressed now.

"Hmm… Stella left three days ago. For Atlantic City. And she's on a one-week no-pay leave." The guy explained. Gosh, he's so helpful. If I wasn't attached – or should I say, engaged – now, I would surely fall for him.

"Atlantic City? Isn't that a very nice, sunny beach-y kind of place?"

"Yeah. Just suit you sis man. You know, bitchy in a beach-y place?"

There was silence over my side. I wasn't even listening.

"Hey. I'm so sorry. Sorry if I insulted your sister." His cute voice woke me up.

"Huh? Oh right. Bitchy. Well, then. Hey, bastard."

He chuckled melodiously over the phone. Gosh, he was bloody cute.

"Thanks a lot…. What's your name?" I stuck my tongue out. I seriously needed this cute guy's name even though I was – cough, cough – engaged.

"Joe. Joe Newton. It's a pleasure to meet you, Swan girl." He joked.

"Hey Newton, watch it. I'm called Daphne."

"Ha-ha. Yes. Great to hear you. Got to go now, dear. Bye!"

And I hung up.

I tried to steer myself away from Joe's attractive voice. Focus, Daphne.




Why the hell did my younger sister pay a visit to a casino and spa laden kind of resort heaven?

Not that she would enjoy it there?

But why?

And of all times now.

Crap. Just crap.

It was a nice evening with steak specially cooked with my dad in the vintage dining room in my house. And I've got good news to cheer up my happy dad up.

"Hey, dad." I chirped, leaping into my steak and poking my fork into the aroma laden piece of meat in front of me.

"Welcome home, Dylan." Dad filled his plate with mixed vegetables.

"Come dad, don't be so sad." I made a replica of his face.

"Fine. Look." He pulled the sides of his lips up.

I cackled.

"Ok. Dad. I've a surprise. Guess what it is."

"Patricia's back?" I swear his eyes nearly popped up of their sockets.

"Nearly there."

"Don't keep me in suspense, Dylan."

We laughed together.

"Well, checking with the airlines, it seems that Patricia has booked a flight home tonight."

"Oh my God. Dylan, that's great news!" Dad nearly jumped up, downed the entire glass of red wine and began choking.

I ran over his side and patted his back.

"Relax, chill, dad."

"Ha-ha. I'm far too excited. So what time does her flight touch down?"

"Hmm… In another two hour's time."

"That's fantastic. So let's get ready for her arrival."

"Dad?" I asked.

"Yeah, son?" He seemed too happy to be disturbed by my grave tone.

"Why do you seem so happy? I mean, yes, I know, Patricia's back. But then, she left you. You know, you're like alone for the past three days. And you're moody, grumpy because of her absence. Aren't you a little angry at her at all? For just like, walking out on you? How can you just accept her back like that?" I opened the floodgate of questions.

"Oh. Dylan. You're getting married. You must understand that in love, one has to give way sometime. And don't worry, I'll demand an explanation from her too. But I won't just kill her for escaping Seattle for three short days and making me worry. I love her too much to even scold her."

"Noble love, dad." I teased.

He chuckled, joining in my laughter as he slapped me on my back before getting back to dining.

Would me and Stella ever get to live like that as a happy couple next time?

"Mom, are you sure about this?" I asked nervously while pulling down the neckline of my halter.

"Baby, just stop it. Listen to me, everything is going to be alright." Mom snapped, tugging the neckline and adjusted the waist band of my skirt. And she went back to dabbing her gold eye-shadow onto those pale, pink eye lids of hers.

"Mom, don't you think it's weird? You're like trying to dress me up in order to impress that guy that your older daughter is engaged to?" I gave up on my outfit and joined mom in the making-up process.

"Oh, baby. Don't touch that. It's expensive." She swatted my fingers away when I landed it on an exquisite-looking Estee Lauder blush.

"Oops." I mouthed, picking up the Revlon liquid foundation and spread it all over my face and neck.

"Oh. You're not trying to impress Dylan. You must seduce. After all, he's yours. And Daphne's just so out of the way." Mom rattled off with a seventeen-year old slang accent as she did the finishing touches to her glittering lipstick.

"Oh, right? And can you do my make-up, I think I'm hopeless with these stuff." I muttered, pointing my fingers at the entire bag of cosmetics that mom brought.

Mom and I chuckled.

"Excuse me," A young lady approached us.

"Oh my God. I'm so sorry, my dear." Mom covered her mouth as she swept her Estee Lauder, Revlon, Clinique stuff all to the right side of the table. We were like taking up the entire powder room.

"It's ok." The lady muttered, using the mirror to check her radiant complexion before strutting out of the room.

"Now, for you my darling. Make-up time." Her enthusiastic voice made me regret asking her to do my face. She sounded like a ten year old boy all ready to rip his sister's Barbie apart.


"Actually, it isn't that bad after all." I commented, my fingers probing on my soft cheeks. I wondered how did mom managed to get all my blemishes off me. She must have used like all of her concealer.

"It is perfect, my dear. Now, time for shoes." Mom packed her stuff up busily and picked up a elegant pair of purple leather heels. Those that I'd never expected myself to wear. Ever. I mean, try to imagine Stella Swan strutting around like peacock in four-inch heels. Killer heels.

"Mom…" I whined, picking up the shoe and looked at it as though it was such filthy dirt.

"Eh. No. Now. This shade of purple goes well with your outfit entirely." Mom protested, slipping my leather pumps off and replacing it with the dangerous-looking heels.

Oh well.

Could I do anything to my mom?

All I just had to do is to hope that I could really impress, or seduce, Dylan.

So, fingers crossed.

For the most doubtful thing ever in history.



What, what?

What, what, what?

Damn it.

"What the hell?" I nearly shrieked at the phone.

"Darling, what's wrong?" Dylan's reassuring voice swept over me like a rush of cool air.

"Everything's wrong. You don't even have any relatives in New Jersey so why did you announce our engagement in the Atlantic City Times?" I protested, playing with the hemming of my dark blue tank-top.

"Actually, I do. My mom. She's flying over thanks to the announcement."


This is just absolutely fantastic.

Who knows, Stella might just be reading the damn newspaper in Atlantic City and spot the damn engagement announcement between Dylan and Daphne. I mean, Stella.

Oh crap.

I'm still Stella Swan in Dylan's eyes.

Oh no, no, no.

I'd better make this clear.

Like today?

And get Stella back.

Because apparently, I'm too poor to get a maid.

And my dear Brian should be sacking me soon.


Need to get a new job already.


World damn-i-nation.

"Good for you, Dylan. Anyway, you want to come over now? I can open a bottle of wine and we can celebrate our second day of engagement." I proposed lamely. Apparently, I didn't even know if we had wine at home. Even if we did, where the hell was it? Stella the house-map was not at home. And I'm lost. In my own home.

Dylan chuckled over the phone and promised to reach my house in twenty minutes.

Please, please, please.

Just let me get done and over with this, I muttered a prayer as the taxi drove us down the lane that leads right up to my house.


No Porsche outside my house.

That's good.

And the lights were on.

That means I can have a one-to-one talk with Daphne.

Oh crap.

Just let me get this right.

Please, God.

I whistled merrily as I skipped onto the front porch steps.

Dad was sitting on the veranda, tapping his fingers impatiently.

"Hey son, where are you going?" Dad asked.

"Eh. Going over to Stella's house to pick her up."

"Good. Better come back early. I'm just waiting for the damn cab to come and I'm going to the airport to fetch Patricia."

"Ok, Dad." I chirped obediently, flicking my car keys over the steering wheel and started the ignition.


Everything was going as planned.

Just nice.

Blue and green?

White and pink?

Eh no.

Pink is so not my colour.

Actually yes.

Oh well.

I opened my lingerie drawer. The outstanding black 32A captured my attention.


I needed an outfit to impress Dylan in such a way that when I tell him that I'm Daphne, he wouldn't be that angry. Let him be more interested in my tits instead.

Black and orange.

Eh. No. Tiger from India?

Pink and purple?

No, no, no.

In the end, I settled for a new lack, 32A bra beneath a translucent peach-coloured shirt and faded grey jeans.


I'm so not ready for Dylan's arrival.


There goes the bell.

I ran all the way down the stairs, totally not ready for what I'm anticipating.

"Fuck." That was the first word Daphne mentioned after nearly thirty seconds of silence.


I hadn't really expected that.

Then, a Porsche's wheels slid against the gravel of the driveway.

Yes. Daph was right.




What the hell was happening?

I wanted to shout out Dylan's name and sprawl myself all over his chest. And then…

Stella pops out.

What was she doing here?

I thought she was on vacation.

Oh no, no, no.

Dylan would be here in no time.

What to do?

I panicked.


My greatest fears were here.

Dylan parked his car in the driveway and switched off the ignition.

Bloody hell.

Hey. I'm only twenty seven.

And my eyes are failing me already?

No, it couldn't be.

There were some differences, subtle ones.

They couldn't be the same person.

They were dressed differently.

The one on my left seems sexier while the one on my right is prettier.


Both of them looked like my Stella Swan.

Multiple personality disorder.


It wasn't.

They were two different people.

Identical twins.


Dylan Hudgens.

How long had I been away from him?

How much had I missed him?

But right now, I've got better problems to solve.

Dylan was staring at Daphne and I now.

Looking confused and shocked.

Obviously he hadn't seen the sisters together before.

"Stell-Stella Swan?" I called out hesitantly as I took a step towards the beautiful sisters.

Now, I had seen the light.

Even though it is not very bright now.

"Yes?" The two sisters called back at the same time.


Now, what?

Which one am I supposed to get married to?

The sexy one was downright sexy. Clad in a nearly-transparent peach shirt revealed to me her bulging tits and how it ached for my touch. Her hot pants did the job for her curvy and perky ass too. This sister had a more blond hair, even though the difference in the colour of the hair was too subtle to be noticeable. Hmm… she was shorter. Shorter hair. Smaller, cat-like eyes. Sharper nose. And plump lips glossed with red, hot lip stick. And her mouth seemed to be stuck in the shape of the four-letter 'f' word.

The pretty one was also downright gorgeous. She didn't have a fabulous figure like her sister but at least there was a waist and the curviness was there. Her ass and tits were slightly flatter. But her dark purple halter made her neck longer and the plunging neckline pulled it all the way down, revealing the best of her attractive tits. She had nice slender thighs and a slightly muscular calves, beautiful ankles adorned with the straps of killer heels. And even without those shoes, she would still be taller than her sister. Her brownish-blond hair flowed down gently against her broad shoulders. It was just like the Nigeria waterfall. But this was even better. There was no pouring down of the magnificent water. In her, there was elegance in stillness. Just like a princess come-alive, with all those princess-like collar bones, dainty and lush and pink lips, big and alluring eyes, framed by thick brown eye lashes. Her pale eyelids were dabbed with a nice combination of gold and purple. Her mascara and eyeliner nicely done, enhancing the overall effect of her.

Now, apparently, both 'Stella's are staring at me, dumbfounded.

Should I join the charade too?

Or do what?

And I didn't know how big the trouble I had landed myself in until the pretty spoke.

"Come out with the damn truth, who do you like more? And stop acting like a retard, drooling over girls." I snapped, irritated after Dylan had made a close-up inspection on me and Daph.

Now, it was his turn to look shocked.

Seriously, who was the one I first met in the hospital? The one that got me so captivated by her beauty and intellect. The one that had aroused so much sexual desire within me. The one that I could never forget.

And which one of them was the one I'd proposed to? The one that I had been showering kisses and touches onto. The one who stimulated the sexual part of me nearly every night. The one that I had been making love to.

There were two 'Stella's and one of them is the fake one.

So, who am I supposed to choose?

Some freaky woman jumped out of nowhere and gave me damn fright.

Didn't I have enough thrill for the rest of my life already?

I was already feeling damn guilty in the midst of the true lovebirds who communication through their eyes and one question from my sister.

I was the bloody one who broke them up.

I was the bloody one who had been so selfish to keep Dylan to myself.

I was the bloody one who was supposed to get out of here.

Return Stella the damn ring, run out of here and promise to change my name back to Daphne Swan.

For the rest of my life.

Then, this freaky woman touched my shoulder.

I shivered.

Stella smiled a little. Smugly.

Dylan raised his eyebrows in confusion.


"Patricia?" I asked.

"It's a long story." She decided on this short answer after two sighs.

"So what are you doing here?"

"Isn't Dad supposed to pick you up from…"

She cut me off.

"Enough of that, Dylan. Now, answer me. Which girl do you want to take her into your arms and love her for the rest of your existence." Mom asked in a grave tone.

Both girls nodded grimly.

"I don't know. I seriously don't know. I mean, I don't even know who I had been spending time with all these time. Is it her or her? I have no idea." I ran my fingers through my hair, plastered my hand to my neck all in nervousness.

"Never mind, go ahead and kiss the girls. See which one is the one for you." Patricia suggested.

What kind of test was that?

It was kind of stupid.

But I was dying to find out the effects of the sexy sister and the glamorous sister.

So I just went along with the plan.

I took a step towards the sexy one first.

Seriously, bloody hell.

What the heck is happening now?

This freaky woman is driving me nuts.

She'd just asked Dylan to kiss Stella and I and pick one of us to be his wife.

What kind of bloody retarded idea was that?

And who was she to interfere in this?

But hold on, Dylan was talking towards me.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

The freak woman looked familiar.

She seemed familiar with Dylan.

Could she be his mother?

And I couldn't think anymore.

Dylan's alluring lips leaned down to meet mine.

I didn't know how to feel.

Jealousy, rage, anger, sadness was building inside of me, climbing rapidly towards the climax. Different emotions battled inside of me.

I was jealous.

Seeing the way Dylan moved his small, soft touches all over Daph's body boiled the jealousy within me.

I was angry.

Why did Dylan choose her to kiss first? Because I was ugly and dull and unattractive? Yes. I had known that all along, hadn't I? Then, why did I even bother to spend nearly an hour in the powder room of the airport making up? Just to be disappointed now?

I was crestfallen.

The hope that I had clung onto for the very last moment seemed to dripped away from my hands. My grasp of it had grown loose. Because my heart had fell. It was hopeless. There was no way Dylan was ever going to fall for me ever again.

I really don't know what to do now.

She was a natural kisser for sure. The way her lips had manipulated mine. The way her rough, edgy movements curled around me like a protective bubble. No, this didn't seem right. Yes. It was pleasurable, her small hands rubbing against my back, her pained moans as I reached my fingers down to explore her cleavage. It was good. But not good enough.

I pulled away.

She took a deep breath.

"Are you Stella?" I asked her, pushing her entire head up so she would look me in the eye.

She pushed my hand away and refused.

"Are you Stella Swan?" I repeated my question.

She made a small noise.

This was the sister of Stella.

I turned to Patricia. She nodded, as if she had heard my thoughts.

Then I went towards my Stella.

My real, Stella.

I didn't even know what was happening at all.

One moment, I was battling against my emotions.

And the next second, I found myself in Dylan's embrace.

But I wasn't prepared for the kiss.

I wasn't even prepared for him.

Dylan could never be mine.

After all, Daph has gone out with so many guys. Surely, one way or another, she would have mastered the skills of French kissing. Unlike me.

So, I didn't give it my full when Dylan's lips met mine.

Even though it felt like heaven.

I grasped Stella's sleek waist in between my arms. I leaned forward to meet her lush lips. Her pink, soft lips brushed against mine. It felt perfect at once. She had to be the one, right? I took a last look of her beautiful blue eyes and immersed myself into the kiss. Jerked once. Jerked twice. I licked the edges of her lips. I tried to crack open her set of teeth with my tongue.

And no, she wasn't responding.


"No, no. I can't do this." Stella ran her long fingers through her silky hair and tried to free herself from me. I refused to budge.

"Dylan, get lost." She muttered, tears brimming on her lower-eyelid.

"No. No way. Look at me, look at me, now." I rasped. I didn't have to force her. She looked at me willingly with her soft, sad eyes. I sighed too as though she was recounting a terrible-fated story.

"Look me in the eye and tell me that you don't love me. I'll let you go." I mumbled, my forehead resting on hers.

"I… I… don't love…" She pressed her lips into a thin line. Her eyebrows were furrowed to form an arch of pain and hurt. Her eyes tinkled in the dim light with the tears overflowing.

I'd made her pain.

And I felt like crying.

Look me in the eye and tell you don't love me.

It seemed to be like an easy feat.

But I just couldn't get the bloody words out of my damned mouth.

My heart was breaking, muscle by muscle, vein by vein, tearing apart. The hurt was tremendous. The hurt was overwhelming. The hurt was devastating. Each letter I pronounced seems as though a litre of blood is drained through me. Little by little, I'm drained. Drained of blood. Drained of life. Drained of love.


I couldn't.

I couldn't do this.

I loved Dylan too much.

So I offered myself to him, throwing my arms over his muscular shoulders.


She was coming for me.

I kissed back her back passionately, driving in all of my soul and heart into her. I drove Stella's back to the wall, pinning her there. Enjoying her. Enjoying her wonderful taste. Her sweet and spicy kind of cinnamon taste. It was fiery red hot. It was calming and pleasing. It was aroma-laden. It was the best. Her tongue lapped at mine, tasting me too, taking in all of me. And it seemed to much for her too. Our kisses became longer, wetter, hotter. Our tongues intertwined. Our hearts were joined into one. Our bodies were only separated by a fine line. Our clothes.

Leaning into her, taking in her scent, taking in her heat, taking in her passion. All the love for me seem to just pour all over me. The ecstasy. Red, orange, purple exploded within me. Happiness swelled in my chest. This was what it was like to love. And to be loved.

Oh my gosh.

I took in all of Dylan.

It was too much to bear.

The heat, the passion, the love. It seemed enough to set this place up in flames.

And I couldn't be bothered who was around me.

Be it my sister, my boss, my mother, the president.


Now, it's between me and Dylan.

It's our world, our love.

"I love you." I whispered when Dylan finally broke away from the kiss.

They made the winner a little too obvious already, hadn't they?

I folded my hands and tucked them under my generous tits.

I'd expected overflowing tears, stamping of feet, banging onto the door from myself when I saw Dylan so captivated by Stella's beauty.

But nothing.

There was a tinge of jealousy and disappointment within me. I was angry with Stella. She had never been able to get whatever I didn't. And now, she got the man that I nearly got married to. I was angry at Dylan. Couldn't he see how inferior had Stella been, compared to me? I was the sex professional. The kissing profession. The sexy hell cat.

Damn it.

Disappointment. I'd always hoped for some person to look after me. I know, that's so not Daphne. But I'm twenty six. I need a companion. I can't just survive on DKNY and Prada all my life while coping on casual sex to get by the boring days. Plus a husband equals a stable income, didn't it? Much as I couldn't live on branded stuff, it is still considered as a necessity. Imagine life without Hermes and Versace. That's called a crap life.

Just like my life now.

And I wondered, as some long ranger walked towards me, why hadn't I run?

Patricia seemed satisfied as we finally pulled away.

Stella murmured that she loved me in my ears.

I pecked her lightly on her cheeks.

She raised her shoulders up in sheer excitement.

And well, what shall we do to the imposter Stella who got me all screwed up?

"Ok. Everything's great. Let's go home." Patricia put on a fake smile and tried to drag Stella's sister away.

"Pat, I'm not done with her." I pointed at Stella's sister, whatever her name was.

"I'm called Daphne Kelly Swan. I have a name." She snapped. Wow. This girl had attitude. I wondered what had I fallen for her. Her tits and ass, most probably. But these things were superficial. What I need is true love. Like love between Stella and I. This will bring me through forever, just like Dad and Pat. A perky and big tits doesn't guarantee and long-lasting marriage.

"Ok, Daphne. You owe me an explanation and your sister an apology." I stated, matter-of-factly.

But apparently, she didn't seem too interested in my talk.

Damn it.


What the hell was he doing here, drunk?

"Daphne…" He whimpered, swaying his fat body from side to side with movements like an old cockroach.

I pushed my fringe back into my hair.

What the hell was he doing here?

Driving me into my grave?

I'd already have enough here.

An explanation for Dylan. An apology for Stella. Find out this freaky woman's identity.

Now, Brian's trying to join the party.

Great. He just slammed his body onto me. I took a few steps backward. And I swear, if he broke my shoes. He's going to pay. Double.

That damned Brian.

"Fuck off." I snapped, pushing him away.

Stella giggled.

"Come on, darling." Brian pressed his disgusting erection against my crotch. No electricity, no love, no talk.

"Move it. Who's your darling?" I pushed him away again but no avail. He seriously need to try out some slimming treatment. Soon. And he'd better.

"You, my Daphne Swan. You don't know how much I've missed you ever since you ditched me. I love you too much. Come back to me, darling."

"The break-up was so ancient. And I don't love you anymore. Move away." I wriggled in between his arms and tried to get out. Stella, Patricia and Dylan stood six feet away from me, chuckling without offering help.

"No. You just broke up with me yesterday, don't you remember? It's that Brittany the bitch. I know you hate her. Me too. She just cheated me of my Visa Platinum. Now I have to pay for her nearly five thousand dollars bill at LV. She didn't love me. Unlike you. She only wanted my money. Unlike you. So, say you'll come back for me." Brian rattled off his sad story. And apparently, I didn't love him and only wanted his money. And I was no better than the bitch. At least I had a nicer body and name.

"Hold on, mister. Did you just say that you and Daphne had been together all along until yesterday?" Dylan suddenly asked.


"Eh. Yes. Shut the hell up, you bastard. I want my Daphne back." Ugh. Brian was seriously drunk.

"You were with this guy and me at the same time?" Dylan raised his voice.

"Eh. Well… it doesn't anymore because you have your Stella already." I shrugged.

"And you cheated me. You drove your sister away from me. What a bitch." Yes. I know. I'm a bitch. Damn. Why must the whole world keep on reminding me about it? Especially Dylan. He's got his happy girlfriend now. He's forgetting me, the fiancé.

"What Daphne? You were with this bastard? Go to hell, you bitch. You didn't love me either, did you?" Brian suddenly exclaimed, throwing his arms away from me. I was only too happy to have some fresh air.

"Yes. I'll get lost. You also get lost. I don't want to see you ever again." With a great push, I pushed the damned Brian out of the way.

And started crying.

Bloody hell.

This world was crumbling. All the bad things in the world are befalling onto me. I'm named as the world's most evil girl. I seduced my sister's boyfriend. I drove my sister away. I cheated on my fiancé. I cheated my boss' money. I'm the bitch. I'm everyone's hell. I'm a sinner.

"Oh, dear. Daphne, just stop crying. Everything will be fine." The alien person with a comforting voice came over to me and tapped on my shoulder.

I looked up at her.

She had nice blue eyes, just like Stella and the shade of blond in my hair.

Who was she?

From the corner of my eye, I could see Stella whispering something into Dylan's ears. Must be something romantic. Dylan chuckled.

"Oh, Daph. I think it's time you knew. This is Patricia Winger, our mom." The damn news hit me like a pungent smell.

It knocked me off my feet.

"Surprised, huh?" Dylan laughed.

Now, I'm the world's most stupid person.

The last one to know such an obvious fact.

I stole a last look of my mom's kind face, Stella's patient face and Dylan's bloody hot face and ran, ran, ran.

I don't even know where I was running to.

"Oh dear. She's taken a lot today, my baby. Should we go chase after her?" Mom asked after Daphne's departure.

"It's ok. She'll be fine. Just a little alcohol and sex would make her feel better. So, leave her alone." I offered my two cents' worth of advice.

"Humph. How have you taught her? Alcohol and sex can solve all problems?" Mom complained.

"Mom, I'm the younger kid. She's the older one. A lousy role model." I protested.

"Ha-ha. Yes, yes, my dear."

"Seriously, I'd never expected this." Dylan suddenly blurted out.

"Expect what?" I asked.

"You to be my wife. And Pat to be your runaway mom." Dylan shrugged.

"Well, life is unexpected." Mom concluded.

"But at least ours has a happy ending." I smiled blissfully. Taking in Dylan's hand into mine was the most blessed thing ever. Of course, kissing him would be even better.

"Ha-ha. Yes. I'm just lacking the damn ring to propose to you." Dylan pulled on that mischievous smile.

I smiled.

Mom broke the lovely atmosphere.

"I guess I got to go now. Your dad will demand everything from me." Mom concluded, walking away.

"Ok. Bye mom." Dylan and I chimed at the same time. Immediately after mom left, we giggled all the way back home to become a tangled mess of naked bodies.

"Triple shot vodka." I slurred at the bar tender.

He nodded obediently. I downed my fourth glass of Tequila Sunset. My life seemed like a sunset now, didn't it? So meaningless. Now, I still have to find someone to pay for my drinks before I left the house without a wallet.

Then, a familiar face appeared in the crowd.

Ooh. Hot Joe.

I wanted to approach to flirt with him. But seduction has taught me a grave lesson. So, I resigned to just sipping the damn vodka at the bar.

But it was he who came over to look for me.

"Hey. Swan girl." Joe greeted me cheerily. He's smart kid. Not to mention anything about Stella at all.

"Hi Joe. Join me for a drink?" I invited him.

"Sure. A drink?" He looked pointedly at the empty glasses in front of me.

"Ha-ha. More than that. Let's enjoy it while we're young." I slapped his moody atmosphere off and ordered a double shot of vodka for him.


I didn't know how. But somehow, it did happen.

I knelt onto the comfortable mattress leaning forward while Joe arched his back, straining his neck, capturing everything. I cupped my hands around his erection, squeezing it slightly while enjoying the pulse of it onto my fingers. I leaned my lips to kiss it. Joe arched his back further. He squirmed. My pink tongue leaned onto it, savouring his taste. I sucked hard, enjoying him. My tongue lapped over his erection. Oh my God. He tasted damn good. And I swear I could have an orgasm now while seeing the Joe had his release.

"Oh my God. That was so good." Joe rasped in between deep breaths.

I tinkled a satisfied laugh and fell back onto the bed.

"Now, let me show you what I can do." He giggled, climbing onto me. I squirmed and chuckled. He silenced me.

I'd always thought that no one could get better than Dylan, but here is he. Joe. His lips were perfect against mine, sweeping and brushing in the same movement as me. Our kisses were like a dance. So synchronised. It was fantastic. When he gave me, I released. When I gave him, he released. Everything was so in tuned. His hands were moving wildly against my back, removing the buttons of my shirt, working down the clasp of my bra. Joe didn't even steal a look of my tits. He didn't even bother to look at how I look like. He wasn't superficial, that's what I had gathered. But his kisses were so passionate and loving. I had to stop thinking. I had to give in my all. I kissed back, wildly. My fingers were entangled in his black-brown hair. My eyelashes battered against his eyelids. My lips moulded against his. My crotch waited impatiently for his entrance. My tits ached for his touch.

And Joe gave it all to me.

He massaged my tits, pleasing the pinkish tip of tits. One handed-ly, he managed to keep me moaning and wanting more. His finger travelled down the underside of my tits, my belly and finally my crotch. He thumbed the hair in there, his jerky movements nearly tearing my knickers. He fingered me. Slowly, he started. Oh my God. He pressed onto the right spots. I moaned. I sighed. I wanted more.

"More, Joe. More." I demanded.

He gave it to me. He sped up, his fingers thumbing my clitoris. Faster, faster, faster. Across the wet folds, he went in to deep.

I screamed.

My release.

How sweet. The sweetest ever.

It was like flowers of red, green, purple, blue, orange, yellow blooming, popping like fireworks. It exploded within me. Joe shouted too, joining me in my orgasm. It was so good. He made it even better. Within a second, he got my knickers down to my ankles, fished a condom out and replaced with his fingers with his erection. Hard. Strong.

"You're so wet. So hot. I don't want to stop." He rasped, taking me once more, bursting me. My sweet release again.

In the end, we did stop. We were far too tired to continue.

And I whispered to him.

"Life is so unpredictable. But with you, I'm afraid of nothing."


His hands grazed across my back. My fingers were knotted in his hair. I could feel his hot, moist breath on my upper lip. My butterfly lashes fluttered against his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around my waist. I scraped my ankle against his knee.

Our lips brushed against each other. Our bodies were connected to each other. Our hearts were singing the same song. Our desires were linked.

"Hmm… Careful, darling." Dylan warned me in a raspy voice.

"Too bad. You're too good. Far too good that I don't want to stop." I muttered shyly into his ears.

Dylan chuckled, pulling his lips away from my cheekbone. I sat up carefully.

I held out my left hand, letting the jewels adorned on my ring shine under the evening sun. Dylan took it and kissed it gently.

"It's so pretty." I whispered, settling one hand onto my torso.

"Not as pretty as you." He whispered back, pinning me down onto the deck chair to kiss me.

And Daphne had to spoil the happy moment.

"Oh my God. I'm so sorry. You happy couple, do your affairs in the room. It's repulsive." Daph started to complain as she juggled three silver bracelets on her hand and pushed them into her right wrist.

"Whatever, Daph. Mind your own business." Dylan sat up, irritated.

"Ha-ha. Yes. Continue your make-out session. I've got a date." Daph sang.

I smiled as she pushed opened the gate and walked into her own Ford Fiesta.

"She's happy." Dylan concluded, leaning a ear onto my distended belly.

I nodded, unable to speak as Dylan inched the hemming of my dress up my knee.

His fingers trailed lightly over my inner thighs…

Daphne had to break the moment again.

She revved the engine, turning on the ignition and rolled down her windows.

"Watch it, Dylan. My sis's with child. Cut the love-making. You're disgusting!" She shouted, sent a flying kiss and drove off.

"That bitch." Dylan muttered.

"Ha-ha. I think we'd better do it inside." I suggested.

"Yes, my darling." Dylan saluted me, scooped up and ran all the way back into the room.

Life couldn't get any better than this.

I prowled around my Ford in Stella's dark blue suede pumps.

The window on the second floor creaked open slowly. Joe popped his face out. I waved at him. He made a thumbs up sign and disappeared.

Within seconds, I heard the rustling of leaves and a loud thud.

Joe reappeared with dirty hands and a few sticks stuck in his brownish-black hair.

"Damn it, Joe. Must you really do this every time?" I complained, picking out the debris from his hair.

"I don't care. As long as I get to see you, it doesn't matter." He leaned down for a swift peck on my cheek.

"Cheesy person." I complained, pulling his lips towards me, demanding for a longer kiss.

"Get inside first, Swan girl. You're impatient." Joe flung open the passenger door and threw me inside. He crawled in quickly.

We didn't have to wait long. Our desires and the sexual tension between us overwhelmed us and we were driven by sheer pleasure and love.

Joe rolled over me, nearly falling off the seat. I panted.

"That was… something." He rasped.

"Oh my God. If we do it in the truck once more, it's going to spoil for sure." I protested.

"Yes. The windows shall crack from your orgasm first."

"You too." I tried to push the blame to him.

We both looked at each other in the darkness and chuckled.

"My sister has a nice ring." I suddenly said, looking out of the window.

"I promise you I'll buy a nicer one." Joe muttered with sincerity.

"My sister's going to have a great kid."

"I promise we'll make a better one." He smiled.

"My sister…"

"Cut it out with your sister." Joe cut me off. "Because you're sister should be jealous instead because you have me."

"Ego." I muttered.

We laughed and continued another round of love-making in the car.

I'd never expected life to get better than this.