Who do you want to be?

— Jennifer, please, smile at least today, — Claudia's voice was soft, but it carried a note of exhaustion, as though she had grown accustomed to her daughter's gloominess over the past month, even if she worried deeply about her sudden change. She deftly flipped pancakes in the pan, her gaze constantly flicking back to the young woman standing by the window.

Jennifer, dressed in a white tank top and a light pink skirt, stared at her mother without looking away. Her gaze was empty, as if she were looking not at Claudia's face but at some distant, unreachable reality.

Claudia let out a deep sigh, then suddenly forced a bright smile onto her face and said cheerfully:

— You know what? Tonight we’ll order pizza and have a movie night. Your favorite, with cheese-stuffed crust, I promise!

Jennifer smirked, but it came out strange—hollow and nervous. Her lips trembled, but her eyes remained cold. She lowered her gaze to her thin fingers, as if she still couldn’t believe they were hers and not someone else’s.

— How did you… — Jennifer froze, leaving the sentence unfinished. Her thin fingers curled into a fist, and her gaze darted back to Claudia, who had already turned away to flip another golden pancake. — How did you know that?

Claudia turned, a slight look of confusion crossing her face, but she quickly smiled again, trying to keep her tone light:

— Know what, sweetie? That you love pizza with bacon and cheese-stuffed crust? You’ve always loved that. — She looked at her daughter as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, as if it were a fact embedded in their shared reality. — Jenny, you’ve always loved it. Since you were a kid. You think I don’t remember things like that?

Jennifer tensed. Yes, bacon and cheese-stuffed crust had indeed been her favorite—well, his favorite. She remembered ordering that pizza just a month ago for her and Claudia. Back then, Claudia had been her wife, not… her mother. "A whole month," she thought with a sigh. It seemed like such a short time, yet to her, it was an eternity.

Just a month ago, she had been Stanley—a 35-year-old man who had stumbled across a strange website titled, "Want to change your life forever?"

He had clicked a few buttons, not even bothering to read the warnings, and typed the first thing that came to mind into the "Who do you want to be?" field—just out of curiosity. Then the system prompted him to upload a photo. Stanley chuckled and uploaded a random picture of a pretty girl he’d found online.

Seconds later, the screen glowed with an eerie purple light, and the words "Loading new reality..." flashed across it before it went completely dark.

At the time, it seemed like nothing more than a bizarre prank. But exactly ten minutes later, he felt a sudden surge of warmth, his head spun, and he collapsed onto the floor of his apartment, utterly disoriented.

When Stanley came to, the first thing he noticed was long, dark hair falling across his face and… breasts. Real ones. Clearly visible beneath the thin fabric of the now too-tight shirt. His hands were slimmer, his skin softer, his hips… wider. Slowly, as if afraid to shatter his own logic, he stood and caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. The moment he first saw Jennifer would forever be etched in her mind like a painful burn.

But Jennifer didn’t have time to dwell on what had happened—a sharp voice snapped her back to reality:

— Jenny, come have breakfast, or you’ll be late for school! — Claudia’s tone was both stern and caring. She was already holding a plate with a couple of hot pancakes, which she placed on the table next to a bowl of yogurt.

School. Just hearing the word made Jennifer feel sick. At 35, going back to school? A month ago, she couldn’t have imagined anything like this.

— Mom, I’m not hungry, — Jennifer mumbled, still standing by the window. The word "mom" still felt stuck in her throat, sounding either insincere or downright humiliating.

— Not being hungry isn’t an excuse, — Claudia replied, gently but firmly placing her hands on Jennifer's shoulders and steering her toward the table. — I know it’s hard adjusting to a new school, but skipping meals won’t make it any easier. And yes, I’m driving you today, so you won’t be late.

"As if I have a choice…" Jennifer gritted her teeth, feeling a knot of irritation building inside her. School, lessons, those strange "classmates" who looked at her like… like she was just another ordinary girl. And no one, absolutely no one, remembered her previous life. No one but her.

She moved toward the table slowly, feeling her legs tremble under the pink skirt. That cursed website. This cursed new reality. She still had no idea how to undo it all.

— Here, — Claudia slid the plate of pancakes in front of her with a warm smile. — Eat up before it gets cold. And don’t forget, we have an appointment with Dr. Hudson after school.

— A doctor? — Jennifer looked up sharply, unable to hide her surprise.

— Yes, a psychologist. We agreed you’d benefit from talking to someone. — Claudia leaned down and gently ran her hand through her daughter’s long, dark hair. — I know it’s hard for you. But we’ll get through this. Together.

Jennifer lazily picked up a pancake and said quietly:

— Mom, what do you… remember about… Dad? About Stanley? — She took a small bite of the pancake, trying to sound casual, but there was tension in her eyes. She watched Claudia with deliberate interest, as if it were just an idle conversation.

Claudia froze, the plate of leftover pancakes trembling in her hands. Slowly, she set it on the counter and straightened up, crossing her arms over her chest. Her face changed instantly; the smile vanished, replaced by a harder expression.

— Jennifer, we’ve talked about this, — she sighed, clearly trying to keep her composure. — Why do you keep bringing it up? Your father left us years ago. He’s gone. And I don’t want you fixating on it. It’s not good for you.

— Maybe he didn’t leave… — Jennifer’s voice trailed off as she diverted her gaze, pretending to examine her hands, though she was boiling inside.

Claudia turned sharply to face her daughter. Her expression was stern, but beneath the severity, there was a flicker of pain she didn’t want to reveal.

— Jennifer Stevenson, stop it! — she raised her voice but quickly caught herself and softened her tone. — We can’t build a life on “maybes.” Your father didn’t care about us. He left me with you in my arms when you were just a baby. You don’t even remember him, and I… I don’t want to dig that up again.

— I remember, Claudia, — Jennifer said quietly, staring into her mother’s face. — I remember because I am him. I am Stanley.

Claudia froze for a moment, as if trying to process her daughter’s words. Then, as though shaking off a spell, she slightly shook her head and forced herself to respond:

— Jennifer, sweetheart, we’ve talked about this. — You’ve said this before. More than once. — Her voice was low and cautious, as if she were trying not to startle a wild animal. — It’s… it’s just your imagination, a way to cope with… I don’t know, maybe the move, the new school, your struggles. You can’t be… — Claudia faltered, her eyes narrowing. — Stanley. It’s simply not possible.

— What if it is possible? — Jennifer’s voice trembled, as though the words were stuck deep inside her, reluctant to come out. She searched Claudia’s face, hoping to find a spark of understanding, but all she found was confusion mixed with exhaustion.

Claudia lowered her gaze, as if gathering her thoughts, then abruptly set the empty plate into the sink. The sharp clatter of ceramic against metal shattered the silence.

— Jennifer, enough, — her voice was tense but controlled. She turned back to her daughter, her eyes now filled with concern. — We’re not talking about this anymore. All of this… it’s just the result of stress. That’s why you’re going to see Dr. Hudson today. You need to talk, to work through this.

— Then how do I know so much about myself… about him?! — Jennifer exhaled sharply, clenching her fists. Anger mingled with despair, her face flushed, and her voice trembled as if even she wasn’t fully convinced of her own words. — His favorite music, his food, the way he drank coffee with two sugars and a splash of milk! This isn’t stress, it’s not some made-up thing, Claudia! I remember it!

— First of all, don’t call me Claudia, — her mother’s voice came out unexpectedly sharp, laced with fatigue and irritation. — I’m your mother, not your friend, so don’t address me like that. And second… — she paused, as if weighing her words before continuing, — you don’t know anything about your father, Jennifer. Everything you’re saying is just… your imagination. A projection. You’re trying to fill the void he left with something familiar. That’s all.

— No! — Jennifer stepped forward, her voice rising into a shout. — I’m not imagining it! It’s not a projection! I remember what I… what he loved! — Her voice cracked, but desperation underpinned her tone. — His favorite band was Queen. He could hum Bohemian Rhapsody for hours, especially while cooking. And he loved Pink Floyd—he called The Dark Side of the Moon a masterpiece! And you? You don’t even know that! He ordered pizza with bacon and cheese-stuffed crust because he said it was the best combination. He drank coffee with two sugars and a splash of milk because everything else was “trash.” And his favorite movie was Back to the Future! I remember how he watched it over and over, saying he wished he had a time machine! It’s all true, I’m not making this up! — She raised her eyes, blazing with anger and bitterness.

Claudia looked at her with an expression of utter bewilderment. Her lips quivered, as if she wanted to argue, but instead, she just sighed.

— You’re wrong, Jennifer, — she finally said, her tone soft though laced with weariness. — All of that—it’s yours. You love Queen and that old movie. You love that coffee. You’ve always listened to that music. You’ve always ordered that pizza. Those are your preferences, sweetheart. Not his. You’ve always been drawn to those things. And your father… — She hesitated, biting her lip and turning away, as though summoning the strength to continue.

— But… — Jennifer tried to interject, but Claudia didn’t let her get a word in.

— Jennifer, please, enough! Your father was a completely different person. He listened to country music. He adored his old car—his damned Chevy—that he treated like his child. Coffee? He never drank it. Said it was “bitter water.” Pizza? He couldn’t stand it. I was the one who ordered it for you when you were little! And movies? He only liked action films, the cheapest ones. You’re not describing him, Jennifer. You’re describing yourself. — Claudia exhaled sharply, her voice shaking slightly, but she quickly regained control. — He left us. You were a baby. I was left alone. We’ve lived all this time without him, and I won’t let you ruin what we’ve built now. Do you understand?

Jennifer remained silent. She heard every word, but none of them felt true—at least, not to her. She clenched her fists tighter, feeling a dull fury growing inside her.

— I… I know it, — she whispered, lowering her gaze. — Because I remember it.

— No, Jennifer, you made it up. It’s a projection. You’re just trying to fill the emptiness. I understand, it’s hard for you. But the truth is, your father left us when you were little. You don’t even remember him. Everything you’re describing—it’s you. Your life, your interests. You’re trying to… — Claudia paused, searching for the right words, — make sense of what you’re feeling. But it’s all an illusion, sweetheart. That’s why Dr. Hudson can help. I want you to go and talk to him. — Claudia spoke gently, but there was a steely determination in her voice. — I won’t let you feed this delusion anymore. You’re my daughter. You’re my family. And he… — she waved her hand dismissively, as if brushing away a ghost of the past. — He’s no longer part of our lives. And he never will be. Understand?

Jennifer stared silently out the window. She had no words. Every word Claudia said struck a nerve, but the worst part was how confident her mother sounded. As if she were absolutely right.

— Get ready for school, Jennifer, — Claudia said quietly. — We don’t have time for this conversation. You’re going to be late. And I don’t want to talk about this anymore.

— That stupid website, — Jennifer muttered, feeling her fingers tremble with tension. She had tried a million times to find it again. She scoured the internet, typed in every keyword she could remember. But nothing. It was as if the site had vanished into thin air, leaving her trapped in this new reality where she was… like this.

— Jennifer! — Claudia’s stern voice pulled her back to the present. — Eat, before it gets cold.

Jennifer picked up a fork mechanically and broke off a piece of the pancake. It was hot and soft, melting in her mouth, but it brought her no pleasure. Claudia leaned down again and, as if unaware of her daughter’s internal struggle, gently ran her hand through her hair.

— We’ll get through this, sweetheart. I know we will.

Jennifer clenched her teeth and nodded, silently finishing her breakfast. One question swirled endlessly in her mind: "How do I get out of this nightmare?"