[Home Plot | Breakfast In America | Pt. III]

[daretodo]

Look, I wasn't exactly a hermit on the Island. I mean, I've been there for nearly two years, and between my job at the school and my position on the Council, I made my fair share of acquaintances -- students, fellow teachers, other Council members (and a lot of those guys were, quite possibly, even less qualified to be leading anyone than yours

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[getemtiger]

It was like looking in a fucking mirror.

Except, of course, that it wasn't, which was the point of having changed her hair in the first place. Up until the entrance of Peter's first wife, Mary Jane had found all of this surprisingly easy, the task of slipping into a role as natural to her as breathing - more so, even, than trying to figure out what all of this meant. She could get lost like this, become who she needed to, and while there may not have been a stage, there was certainly an audience. Now, of course, that audience included someone she had never wanted to see, someone she wasn't supposed to ever have been able to see, and her appearance alone would have been jarring even ignoring her own history with Peter. This Mary Jane was taller, her eyes were different, but the resemblance was still striking, or would have been, if she still looked the way she usually did. Fortunately, with her hair cut short, the similarities in their faces weren't so apparent as they might have otherwise been

[daretodo]

Do I have to? is the first thought that springs to mind, but I have the good sense to keep the thought to myself. My survival instinct is kicking in, let me tell you that, because now there's not one, but two women I have both loved and love, looking at me with near identical expressions. And despite all of that, I'm standing here wishing that the very ground would choose this instant to swallow me up whole, because that would be a more pleasant experience than whatever's about to follow.

I mean, there's just no way this can end well. All at once, every single argument about my first wife that MJ and I've had comes roaring through my head, and try as I might to usher them out, it's hard not to think about. I've already ruined one relationship, apparently; I can't handle doing the same to another. The dream -- if this is a dream -- has suddenly turned into a nightmare

[getemtiger]

"Katie, if you want," Mary Jane offered, taking the other woman's hand to shake it, smile warm, but still a little puzzled. That much wasn't entirely feigned, either. Whatever had caused Peter and this Mary Jane to break up, she honestly didn't know, and imagined that, for the story they were telling, she would probably have known even less, being Peter's still relatively new girlfriend. (That, admittedly, was one of the weirdest things about this, but she was trying not to pay it any mind, or how bizarre it was to be shaking the hand of someone introducing herself the same way she would have.) "It's nice to meet you."

[daretodo]

"Katie," Mary Jane echoes, mirroring MJ's smile. Even with all the differences -- and I'm really trying to keep my focus on the differences, not the similarities, here, for obvious reasons -- the resemblance is uncanny. But there's an edge to Mary Jane's voice, one that's saccharine sweet, that makes all of the hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end. There's no actual danger here -- at least, I don't think they're about to tear open each other's throats, though I'm not sure I could blame them if they decided to tear out mine -- but I'm half-expecting my spider-sense to kick in at any moment, anyway. This is every worst fear come to life.

I'm not sure what's worse, that she's not looking at me or that she's not looking at me because she's looking at MJ. I wonder what she sees. If she's piecing it together what the others haven't.

"How long have you known Peter?"