Shelby had never been one for interacting with her 2ps, or, really, any 2ps for that matter. Something about them was, just, off. Being around them twisted her gut around and made her feel nervous and anxious and nauseous all at once. Her 2p, Samara, especially rubbed her the wrong way. She was so fake, literally the definition of being two-faced and making passive-aggressive comments. She always pretended to like those around her, she managed to look like an angel- in reality, Shelby was positive that the only person she really cared about was herself.

If you want to only care about yourself, whatever, but don't pretend that others matter to you. At least, that was Shelby's way of looking at it.

She walked down the streets of Downtown Wayne. Except, she had never seen this party of Wayne before. That wasn't entirely uncommon- MetroDetroit was a HUGE suburban expanse and she often found herself finding new parts of Inkster, Livonia, and especially Canton and Plymouth, but Wayne... That surprised her.

She had been called in by a psychologist office to help a patient. It was located in Wayne (obviously why she was there right now), so she figured it had to be her cousin. Although now that he was on his medication, he was perfectly fine... But the person on the phone said she was not allowed to share who she was coming in to help. Doctor-patient confidentiality.

She stepped inside and went up to the front desk. The woman turned to her, smiling. "Hello, how can I help you today?"

"Er, hi. I was called in to... I guess help a patient?" Shelby shifted uncomfortably. Something about this entire part of town seemed off to her. "My name is Shelby Ferrell."

The woman's eyes lit up in realization. "Ah, yes! Walk right back there to room 5. They've been waiting for you!" She said cheerily, before going back to the files on her computer.

Shelby watched her skeptically for a couple seconds, before cracking her knuckles as she walked down the hallway. She found room 5, and knocked on the door before opening it.

She had expected to see her cousin. Instead, her eyes landed on the person she hated most in the world. "You." She hissed angrily, her eyes narrowing.

Looking back at her with dark brown eyes, was Samara Paglia. "You." She spat back with equal hatred, her knuckles tightening their grip on the edge of the patients table.

The other person in the room, an older man with thinning grey hair and large spectacles, turned to Shelby. "Oh, good, you're here." He said in a rather uninterested tone. "I understand that you are Samara's 1p?"

"Who are you?" Shelby looked him up and down. Did everyone in this office have to be so off-putting?

"I'm Samara's psychologist." He stated simply, waving the question away. "I understand you two have a special hatred for one another?"

Both girls locked eyes once again. "Yes." They growled in sync.

"Cool." The psychologist shrugged. "Well, I wanted to try something with both of you. I believe it will help both of you understand each other better, and will help Samara resolved the built-up negative emotions she feels towards you," he gestured to Shelby, "which I believe will help Samara overall with her confidence issues and her depression."

Shelby glared. "For someone who has confidence issues, you sure like to rip people a new once about how they look." She stated spitefully.

"Only for your fat ass, sweetheart." Samara sneered.

Shelby's fists tightened, and she was about ready to leap forward and maim her 2p, before the psychologist spoke again. "I believe you two should switch places for a day."

The shock of the statement caused both girls' jaws to drop, and they stared at the doctor in disbelief. "What?" Samara demanded, her brows furrowing.

"I am not gonna pretend to be a bitch all day." Shelby stated decisively, crossing her arms.

"Oh, trust me, hon. You don't have to pretend." Samara rolled her eyes.

"Shut up." The psychologist said, and Shelby glared at him. She was beginning to doubt his status as a real doctor. "This is going to be good for you two. You'll be able to better understand each other and your different struggles. If you two can at least come to have mutual respect for one another, it might help both of you feel better about yourselves."

"Uh, how?" Samara raised a brow.

"Because you'll stop insulting one another." He muttered.

~~~~~

"... I look like a prick." Shelby muttered as she stared at herself in the full body mirror. It was now the next day, and Samara and Shelby met in at the psychologist office. Samara's psychologist had devised outfits that would perfectly disguise the girls as their opposite player. Shelby's hair had been straightened with extensions added, with brown contacts making her eyes appear a dark brown, and her eyebrow makeup had been done to make her brows appear naturally ungroomed. The rest of her face was coated in foundation, her makeup done up exactly like Samara's. She was completely constricted, her chest, stomach, and thighs squeezed dangerously tight in a strong bandage wrap to make her appear as thin as her counterpart. On top of that, she wore skin-tight clothes, placed carefully so that no one could see the bandages underneath.

"And I look like a buffalo." Samara breathed in horror next to her 1p. She was wearing a curly-hair wig, for she refused to cut her hair for her psychologist's crazy idea, with grey-blue contact lenses. She allowed for her eyebrows to be plucked and groomed to Shelby's shape, however, as long as she didn't have to do it herself. She was also wearing mascara and filler on her brows as her only makeup, and she was wearing padding in her stomach and thighs, and her clothing was loose and did not compliment her figure.

"I'm still not ugly enough to be you." Samara glared.

"Shut the fuck up." Shelby grumbled. "Do you remember the ground rules we set?"

"Yep. Don't ruin any relationship with our friends. Don't reveal that you're mortal. Don't reveal my body count. And no sleeping with each other's boyfriends- uh, fiancé for me." Samara listed off, eyeing her engagement ring, which was now wrapped around Shelby's left ring finger. "Seriously, watch it with my fiancé."

Shelby gagged. "Wouldn't dream of it."

And so, they left the psychologist office, ready to begin the experiment.