Jeff, now fully transformed into Riley's 10-year-old form, drifts into a peaceful nap. The gentle sounds of the house hum around him as he slumbers, unaware of the turn his weekend was about to take.
The front door creaks open slowly, and in steps Riley, his face flushed with frustration. He slams the door shut harder than he intended, the sound reverberating through the quiet house. Riley had been looking forward to spending the weekend at his friend Kenny’s house, but their argument had escalated into a shouting match. He’d had enough and stormed out, needing space to cool off. He hadn’t even considered that his parents were gone, or that Jeff might be somewhere inside. All he knew was that he needed the comfort of home and, ideally, some time alone to think.
But as he makes his way down the hallway, he notices something odd. His door is slightly ajar. Frowning, he hesitates, the sound of his breathing loud in his ears as he walks cautiously toward his room. Pushing the door open further, his jaw drops.
There, lying on his bed, is... himself.
Riley’s heart races, and he feels the blood drain from his face. He stands frozen in the doorway, staring at the boy on his bed—the boy who looks exactly like him. It isn’t just some uncanny resemblance. It’s him, down to every last detail: the undercut hair with blonde tips, the blue eyes, the same slightly crooked smile.
Riley’s mind spirals, trying to make sense of it. He feels a strange mix of fear and awe wash over him. He can’t even remember how to breathe for a moment. A wave of panic rises in his chest. How could this be? What... who is this?
The figure on the bed stirs, blinking open sleepy blue eyes. For a brief moment, Riley watches himself wake up, and the sight almost makes him bolt from the room. "Who... who are you?" Riley whispers, his voice trembling.
The clone—Jeff, in disguise—sits up slowly, rubbing his eyes. "Oh... hey," Jeff says casually, though his heart skips a beat at the sight of the real Riley standing there. Crap, he’s home! What do I say? He takes a deep breath, thinking quickly. "I... uh... didn't expect you back so soon."
Riley stands rooted to the spot, his confusion only growing deeper. "What the hell? How do you look like me?! What’s going on here?!"
Jeff decides to stick to his plan, hoping Riley buys the story. "I know this is weird," he says, trying to sound as calm as possible despite the tension in the room. "I'm... well, I'm kind of a clone of you. I was, uh... created, I guess. Just appeared here."
"A... clone?" Riley’s voice cracks, and he backs up a step, his mind racing. “You can’t just appear out of nowhere! Where did you come from? Who did this?!”
Jeff shrugs, attempting to seem nonchalant, though his pulse is racing. "Honestly? I don’t know. One minute, I wasn’t here, and the next minute, I was. No memory, no idea who made me. I just woke up, and boom—I’m you."
Riley’s eyes narrow, suspicion creeping into his expression, but there’s still a flicker of curiosity. "A clone... of me? Why? That doesn’t make any sense." He approaches slowly, keeping a safe distance from Jeff but trying to get a better look. "You’re me, but... you’re not me. This is insane!"
Jeff, still seated on the bed, raises his hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, I get it. If I were you, I’d be freaked out too. But I’m harmless. I didn’t choose this, man. I’m just here."
Riley’s thoughts are a jumbled mess. Part of him is terrified. The idea of having a duplicate of himself just lying on his bed like it’s the most normal thing in the world is deeply unsettling. What if this thing—this clone—tries to take over his life? What if it’s dangerous?
But another part of him is... intrigued. Amazed, even. "So you’re exactly like me? Same thoughts? Same... everything?"
Jeff shakes his head quickly. "Not the same thoughts. I’ve got my own mind, my own personality. I’m not trying to replace you or anything. I just... happen to look like you."
Riley crosses his arms, staring down at the clone in front of him. "Why are you here, then? What are you going to do?"
Jeff pauses, thinking quickly. "I don’t really know. I wasn’t planning on doing much, just... hanging out, I guess. I mean, I don’t have a life outside of this. I’m only here for the weekend." He flashes a nervous smile, hoping Riley doesn’t press for more details.
Riley takes a deep breath, trying to process everything. His brain feels like it’s on overload. There’s a freaking clone of him in the house. He should probably be running or calling someone, but instead, he finds himself more curious than anything.
"What happens after the weekend?" Riley asks cautiously.
"I... disappear, I think," Jeff says, trying to keep the story consistent. "Once Sunday’s over, poof, I’m gone."
Riley bites his lip, torn between the strangeness of the situation and the possibilities it presents. A weekend with a clone of himself? Maybe it wasn’t so bad. After all, if this clone wasn’t trying to hurt him, maybe there was something kind of... cool about it. He’d never seen anything like this before. It was like something out of a sci-fi movie.
But at the same time, it was unnerving. "This is so weird," Riley mutters, shaking his head. "Like, I don’t know what to do with you."
Jeff gives him a half-smile, standing up from the bed now. "Honestly, I don’t either. But... I guess we’ve got the weekend to figure it out." He gestures to the door. "You want to hang out or something? I mean, I’m technically you, so... we’d probably enjoy the same stuff, right?"
Riley stares at Jeff for a long moment, still unsure what to make of all this. A clone. Of himself. His logical mind screamed that none of this made sense, but the adventurous part of him—the part that liked to test boundaries and explore new things—was intrigued.
Finally, Riley takes a step back, gesturing awkwardly toward the living room. "I guess... we could play some video games or something. But you better not try anything weird."
Jeff grins, relieved to have bought some time. "Deal. I promise."
As they walk down the hall together, Riley steals glances at his clone. His mind buzzes with questions: What could this mean? Why him? And more importantly, could he trust this person—this version of himself?