The lights flicker on, stable this time, the blinding white clashing with the clear-white walls. The person releases me, causing me to fall face-first to the floor, pain shooting up my knees and palms. Fuck that's gonna leave a few marks.

"Quinn," they say, softly, in a voice that has whispered to me a hundred times before. Velvety, smooth, like silk.

"Julia..." I exhale slowly before standing back up and turning around to triple confirm the owner of the voice and the unforgettable scent.

There she is, standing in front of me, even more beautiful than she was the day before she disappeared. Not a wrinkle in sight, not anymore. She looks... young, like a natural beauty turned into a superstar. As she used to be in the photos I've seen from almost twenty years ago when she was discovered at eighteen.

Her red lips curl up in a small smile, her blue eyes not moving away from my face as she tucks several curly strands of brown hair behind her ear. Fuck she's breathtaking. That's why so many people love her, no matter how much time passes, not even looking at the few trolls on social media who say she's aging.

Her faded blue jeans hug her curves and toned legs as she takes a step toward me before my paralyzed condition dissolves. I tackle her, wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug, laying my cheek against the soft fabric of her white t-shirt underneath a black leather jacket.

"I-I thought you were... dead," I whisper, glancing up at her, the ache in my heart not leaving as I take in every small detail of her.

She chuckles. "Well, as you can see, I'm very much alive, babydoll."

A shiver runs down my spine at that pet name, one that I haven't heard since her disappearance. One that I haven't realized I've missed so fucking much. I finally untangle myself from her, stepping back as I take a deep breath. "Do they know...?"

"That I'm here? No."

The brief joy begins to fade away when I take another good look at her. Something gnaws at my chest, like squirming maggots, crawling down to my stomach into a sickening heap. 

"You couldn't let me know that you were alive? A phone call? A text?" I ask.

"That would give me away, no?" Julia tilts her head to the side as her eyes rove over my body, and I suddenly remember that I'm still clad in the dress that leaves... not much to the imagination. "I see you've been quite well. You're loving the spotlight, hm?"

"Just wanted to make you proud." Which is a lie, a terrible lie, and I know she can see right through it.

"Oh? By what, stealing it when you thought I was dead? Pretty convenient, no?" She smiles again, only this time, it doesn't reach her eyes. It bleeds malevolence, deception, both things that cut into me when we were together.

I loved her. I really did. No matter how she treated me and then made up for it by being the most amazing girlfriend ever. My friends warned me because of our seventeen-year age difference, but I didn't listen.

Amongst that love, I hated and envied her.

Jealous that people were showering her with love. When the trolls started to appear, satisfaction licked at my skin like gentle, warm touch of fire. 

And I might lose it all now that she's here, more beautiful than before, and it scares the shit out of me more than me missing her. 

"They were the ones who approached me," I say, taking a few steps back.

Julia throws her head back and cackles. "Of course they did." Then she waves her perfect manicured hand around. "Have you taken a good look at the collection of clones here?"

I look around and exhale sharply when all I see are rows and rows of Julia look-alikes. Some are a bit funny-looking, others have obvious defects like a flat nose, a few are exactly like Julia, but not a single for as far as I can have that Julia effect.

"They've been attempting to produce an exact replica of me since I've begun to... well, age." She taps the side of her head. "One tiny wrinkle was enough for them to decide they needed to find a solution, because this industry hates aging women. We're useless. They only want young women, such as you."

Julia lets out a dejected sigh. "Unfortunately, none of these clones have been capable of talking, acting, or moving like me. So, they resorted to plan B while I told them I'll scour for my own solution. And you, babydoll, have fallen straight into my trap like the little bunny that you are."

Chills crawl up my spine like a cold dead man's hands as I take another few steps back. "What the fuck are you talking about?" I breathe out.

Julia continues to smile as she takes out a hunting knife from her jacket and flicks it open, the sound of the blade echoing through the endless white room. Fuck if I stay here any longer I might just go insane. That might explain why people at mental hospitals have a hard time healing.

"Do you know why I look so good?" She bobbles her head as she steps toward me, her body swaying casually like she's taking a drunken stroll. "You know what, maybe I should spare you all the details and just say that I never knew how a young girl's blood can taste so fucking revitalizing."

She lunges at me without warning, the knife swishing just a few inches from my throat. I duck to the side, breathing heavily as fear slices up my nerves and, rushing around her, start running further into the room, the Julia clones taunting me like the devil's chant.

This cannot be happening. No no no. How can Julia be capable of killing me? Drinking a girl's blood? Is she a vampire? Did she kill that girl?

Fuck, this was supposed to be the best day of my life, and it's turning into a nightmare.

"Babydoll," Julia sings out behind me. "There's nowhere to run." Her villainous laugh bounces all around me, before I trip over a pile of hangers, sending me plummeting to the floor.

I gasp out at the sharp pain in my knees, sure that I must have broken something, when a menacing shadow looms over me. I turn over on my back just in time to block Julia from stabbing the knife into my chest, white light glinting from the blade like a devil's taunting fingers.

"Julia, stop!" I strain out, grunting as I push back on her arms. "What the fuck?"

"I'm so sorry, Quinn," she says, her eyes saying anything but that. But her smile is no longer etched into her face. Instead her expression is serious, melancholy even. "You weren't supposed to take the bait."

"The... bait?"

"But what do I know, you're a selfish, validation-seeking bitch who only gives a fuck about what everyone else thinks. You think I couldn't tell how much you envied me?"

Anger floods my veins. "Are you talking about yourself?"

Her hold on the knife loosens briefly, but it's enough for me to grab it and, gripping her left shoulder, plunge the blade into her stomach.

She screams like a wild animal, warm sticky blood flooding my hand, her eyes wide in pain and shock as crimson trickles out her mouth.

I should probably feel horrified, something, but as Julia rolls off me, the knife handle protruding from her stomach, all I feel is a pleasant tingle like the warmth of a cocoon wrapping around me as I stand up and watch the red stain spread over her white-shirt. Staining it, like sin. 

"Very well done, Quinn," someone says behind me, clapping their hands once, the sound echoing through the room as the lights start to dim. "Now for the grand finale."