While Mia slept through the night, a small part of her brain was active. It was me, thinking. Reflecting on the whole situation that had unfolded that evening. The entire evening replayed before my eyes. In the evening glow, the family was preparing dinner. The wedding was set to take place in just a few days, so they wanted to spend a little more time together, catching up with the groom and bride-to-be. A doorbell rang through the room when the couple arrived at eight o'clock in the evening. Elise and Joe walked to the door together, full of joy. Mia was one of the last to step forward. Even though I knew David from Mia's memories, he had lost weight again recently. He had dark, thick hair, so deep black that it swallowed every shade of color. His face was narrow but striking, with sharp cheekbones and a firm, straight nose. A dark, neatly trimmed beard emphasized the contour of his jaw without making him look older. He wore simple, dark clothing—undisturbed, functional. Nothing screamed for attention, and yet he possessed this quiet, unnoticed presence. 'Hello everyone!' he greeted us, stepped inside, took off his shoes, and kissed his parents on the cheek before moving on to his siblings, squeezing them, hugging them, and lifting them up.
Meanwhile, Vivian, his fiancée, stepped inside. I looked at her. Her face appeared symmetrical and finely drawn, with a bright, almost gentle complexion kept lively by a subtle glow. Her eyes, large and attentive, were set deep enough to give her gaze a certain seriousness, yet something warm and human flashed within them. Her hair, a soft light blonde, fell in flowing waves over her shoulders, as if it had captured the light and transformed it into gold. Her lips were full, yet not exaggerated, naturally shaped for a smile that lingered just a little hesitantly at that moment. Her dark dress, woven with floral patterns in red and purple, clung simply to her upper body without appearing overly grand. It underlined her figure without pushing it to the forefront, giving her a quiet elegance. She stepped in after David, took off her high heels, and greeted her in-laws before coming over to us. 'I have something for you!' she said, making Chloe's eyes light up as Vivian handed her a large package of chocolate. Chloe hugged her and disappeared again. Vivian greeted the rest of us, and after some small talk about how they were doing, we headed straight to the kitchen table to eat dinner.
Vivian seemed normal to me, like real family. She smiled beautifully and was friendly to all of us. Even Mia thought at first sight how beautiful she was, admiring her appearance. In general, Mia had nothing against Vivian, because she was happy to see her brother happy. Her opinion that Vivian was acting strangely vanished for that single moment. That thought had originally crossed her mind when she went to grab a coffee with her, completely spontaneously, when Mia saw Vivian on the street. Even then, she seemed happy, but when Mia asked her if she was looking forward to the wedding, she had to think for a few seconds. 'Yes. Yes, yes… I don't know,' she answered with a stutter, forcing a fake smile. 'My situation is special,' her smile faded before she went on to explain how she and David had met.
Back at dinner, David and Vivian sat between the parents and us. As we served ourselves food, the conversation truly began.
'It was a horrendous flight here,' he said, glancing at her.
'Yes, it started getting too hot…' she continued.
'And that traffic jam,' David added with a shake of his head.
'But you made it here safe and sound!' Elise noted.
'You are ready for the wedding,' Joe added.
'Oh, that!' David said, his eyes widening.
'Of course, and we're even spending our honeymoon here!'
'Tomorrow we have to visit the tailor one last time,' Vivian emphasized with a smile. He remembered the appointment he had forgotten. 'And in the evening, David and I are going to the spa before we exchange our vows,' the fiancée said, looking at her groom-to-be.
'When are your parents arriving?' Elise wanted to know. At that question, Vivian's facial expression changed instantly. 'They aren't coming,' she said, looking nervous. 'I don't have any.' Joe didn't understand her answer, but Elise noticed her reaction. 'Did you grow up in an orphanage then?' Elise asked. 'Well…' she took a moment to reply before giving a brief yes. David didn't know whether he should intervene or not, but he glanced over at her. 'It was a difficult, traumatic time,' she said, waving her hands in the empty air, forcing a fake smile several times. 'No relatives, no siblings, no family,' she concluded in a sad voice. 'You poor thing, it couldn't have been easy for you,' Isla chimed in, expressing her sympathy. Vivian explained how hard it had been for her to have no one, to be completely alone. 'But are you looking forward to the wedding?' Joe asked, wanting to break the previous silence. 'Yes,' she said hesitantly, before they continued talking and forgot about the earlier situation. Her reaction showed me that she had something to hide. But then again, it wasn't really my job to snoop into other people's business.
'Are you sure you don't want to stay the night here?' Elise asked. 'You wouldn't be bothering us, and we have plenty of food for breakfast,' Joe promised. 'No, thank you, Father. We booked a hotel just a few houses down, by the main street. Vivian, what was it called again?' Vivian looked at her in-laws: 'La Campanella, I think. Written in big letters.' They said their goodbyes and left.
Alone with Mia in her room, she asked me if I had noticed anything unusual about the conversation. Dressed in her pajamas and ready for bed, she sat neatly on the edge of the mattress while Sophia was still in the bathroom. I shared her views. 'So I was right?' she asked. I agreed with her—I was being realistic—but was it really my job to meddle in other people's business? No! Was it my job to play the detective here? No! And yet, Mia wondered if a good life didn't require openness. After all, she just wanted to see her brother happy and prevent him from being disappointed. 'And who knows if this won't end up playing a bigger, more important role?' she countered. Only the fear that she might pose a danger to all of us shook me.
Mia lay down on the bed just as Sophia walked in. No one in the family had a picture of Vivian. If only I had that, I could have jumped into her earlier. Instead, I had to develop a new plan. I thought it over, trying to locate her with my halfway established abilities. I knew where the hotel was; I let my roots run free, and even though I had the entire hotel on my radar, focusing on where everyone was, I couldn't jump into any of the bodies. At least not the doorman, as I was truly exhausted from the incident with Charles. I had no choice but to jump from body to body to get to Vivian. I knew that until early morning, I would need an awake body, someone from the family. It was no use going to the hotel using Mia's body if she was just going to collapse sound asleep. I couldn't take advantage of that.
I held out for a few more hours until the first rays of sunlight appeared and I heard footsteps outside. I took over Mia's body, blinking a few times before slowly sitting up. I felt Mia's exhaustion, yawning and stretching briefly afterward. Barefoot and still in pajamas, I walked into the kitchen and found Joe. 'Good morning, Mia,' he greeted me, then looked out the kitchen window while sipping his coffee. 'Good morning!' I replied, but he was just watching the sun in the morning sky. I then sat down so that Mia's body wouldn't slump over when I left it. As Joe turned around and looked at me, I jumped into his body. Fully dressed and with a coffee cup in hand, I heard Mia's body thump onto the table.
In a sleepy, mumbling voice, she asked what was going on, but deep down, she kept on sleeping. Joe's body was different—finally, I had a penis, just like I used to. Finally, I felt this power inside me, this strength that I had lost. Joe's body was powerful. Even at over 50 years old, I was able to carry Mia back to her room. Everyone was still tired. It was only half past six in the morning. I could easily seize the opportunity to clear out. After leaving the villa and stepping onto the busy street, I already had the idea to sneak up on Vivian through the hotel staff. But when I arrived in front of the hotel, I spotted Vivian in a jogging outfit: white shoes with white socks pulled over black nylon leggings, paired with a blue shirt. She hadn't seen me yet, and keeping a safe distance, I followed her as she ran toward the beach. My plan was a failure. I was too late. Vivian had gone for a jog, or so I thought at first, but I preferred to jump into her body sooner rather than later. How could I, as Joe, argue that I had just run into her by chance? Pure coincidence looks different, and I had to switch bodies. While tailing her, I looked around and jumped into the body of an older woman, but her vision was increasingly blurry, and Vivian was about to run right past without me being able to lock eyes with her.
The street was narrow—a tight side street. Once again, I had to look for a body. As I caught a blurry glimpse of a schoolboy on his way to school, I strained my eyes, and at that very moment, I managed to jump into his body. His body felt much lighter, and my vision cleared instantly. Vivian had a head start, turning right around the corner. I ran after her, but in the narrow passage, I stumbled right into her. "Why are you following me?" she asked, catching me by the shoulder. I was now in the form of a twelve-year-old boy. "I… I don't know what you mean," I stammered, overwhelmed by the realization that she had sensed my presence despite the disguise of a different body.
'I go to school around here,' I said in broken English. Meanwhile, I had to seize the opportunity to jump into her body, hiding myself deep within her neurons. 'It's okay! I'm going to let you go now, and we will both go our separate ways. You don't tell anyone about this! Do you understand?' Crying, the boy nodded, and Vivian let him go. He ran away, utterly terrified of her, while she turned around and entered a tailor shop a few houses down, so that the final adjustments could be made before her jog.
'Hola Vivian, ¿cómo estás?' asked a dark-haired woman who was sitting at a sewing machine but turned to look at Vivian. 'Bien, bien,' she replied in Spanish before switching to English. 'A little nervous, to be honest,' she admitted shortly after. The tailor stood up, showing understanding. 'It will be an important day, an exciting day—just like it was for me and my husband back then!' she replied in perfect English, hugging Vivian and exchanging air kisses on the cheeks. 'I made the alterations. Try it on,' she said, pointing toward the changing room in the corner of the room.
Vivian's body felt balanced and calm, as if it were made less to stand out and more to maintain composure. Her shoulders were narrow but not fragile, carried with an ease that suggested inner strength. Her arms appeared slender. Her legs were strong, and her stomach was flat. Her breasts stood out, radiating their natural appearance. They easily filled an entire hand. She looked at herself in the mirror, feeling her upper body, her breasts hanging free from her bra. I felt their firmness, their elegance. The brown nipples that stood out, looking ready to be nibbled on. I wanted to touch them, to let myself get aroused, and yet I held back.
Changed into her wedding dress, she stood on a stool while the tailor, an older lady, worked on the finishing touches of Vivian's gown. Every now and then, the older lady looked up at Vivian to tell her stories about her own husband. Vivian listened, even though she didn't really want to; she just wanted her dress to finally be finished. Originally, David and she had agreed to get married in London, but she hated London—hated returning to the very homeland she had been forced to leave years ago. No one had ever asked if she had disappeared. When David asked her a few weeks ago if they should organize the wedding abroad after all, she hadn't hesitated for a single second to say yes. She would do anything just to be away from London. Filled with joy, she had packed her bags along with her wedding dress, boarded the plane, and come here.
Meanwhile, Vivian lost herself in her thoughts while the tailor kept talking. She found herself thinking about a specific person: the singer Mikka, who was holding a concert downtown tonight. But why was she thinking about that? Was she that much of a fan? More than twenty minutes slipped away without me digging deeper into her mind. But this curiosity drove me to delve into her memories. I glided through her neurons, jumping from cell to cell, until within a few seconds, I uncovered and pieced together her entire past. Shocked by the suffering and pain Vivian had experienced as a child, I learned that although she was born in England, she had been taken to an orphanage in Romania. Why?
Vivian didn't know herself. Under harsh conditions, she lived alongside other children until one day, a strange man appeared and inspected them. He looked them over thoroughly—clean teeth, neat clothing—and if they met his standards, he took them with him. Vivian was among those he took back then to train them as contract killers.
'How did you meet your fiancé?' asked the tailor, who needed a short break, snapping Vivian out of her thoughts. 'Me, David?' she had to ask herself briefly, and the tailor just nodded. 'We crossed paths on a business trip, he spilled something on my shirt,' Vivian beamed, 'and then he invited me out for a coffee.' That was only half the truth, because she had been forced to return to the place where she had been abandoned in order to liquidate a Russian oligarch. Her profession was risky, often depending on chance, and when she bumped into David, it was love at first sight. David, with a coffee in one hand and a phone in the other, had collided with Vivian and invited her for a coffee that would change her life. She hadn't seen such a handsome man in a long time and was left speechless, as if frozen. He gave her his phone number and disappeared, leaving Vivian with butterflies in her stomach. While she was torturing the oligarch to death, she kept thinking about David, about his looks, and what he might think of her. Ultimately, he texted her that very evening to arrange a meeting.
'That's beautiful!' the tailor said to her, as she could well imagine it. 'My Marcello and I met while on vacation,' she began, sharing her own love story. This time, Vivian listened more closely. I, however, delved deeper into Vivian's memories—into the world where she lived as a contract killer. Vivian wanted to quit, to truly leave it all behind. She loved David and could finally settle down. Finally, she could love someone and receive love in return. She had faked her own death to deceive the Russian state. Misha, an older secret police agent, helped her on the condition that Vivian would work for her. Vivian had been naive back then to believe that anyone would ever help her; she was being used once again. Misha turned into a monster unlike any Vivian had ever seen. After Misha and Vivian staged the death, which Vivian covered up as a car accident, Vivian had to help Misha kill her own father, whom Misha hated. Misha tied him to a chair, and when he woke up, she pulled the fingernails out of his hands. Misha felt pure joy hearing her father scream in her apartment. Vivian, on the other hand, watched in shock, hardly able to believe that Misha could be so brutal. After all, Misha was almost twice her age.
The tailor adjusted a few more spots until she finally set her tools down. By now, more than an hour had passed just standing there. 'I'm finished, would you like to look at yourself in the mirror?' Vivian stepped down, walked over to the mirror, and looked at her reflection. The dress fitted her well, highlighting her curves beautifully. Her long blonde hair fell naturally over her shoulders. 'Well, is it good? Does it fit? Is it comfortable?' the tailor asked after taking a brief pause. 'It's really good, it's beautiful,' Vivian replied, looking at herself from the side. Vivian was satisfied. Now she was ready for the wedding—she just had to liquidate this singer, and her debts would be cleared. She was happy. 'Good, then I will send it to your hotel,' the tailor said, and Vivian was finally able to change back into her clothes.
Once again, she stood in the changing room, slipping out of the dress. First, she opened the slit at the back before the dress fell away. It was one of those moments where the compulsion took over. Within seconds, control shifted, and the urge became irresistible, focusing entirely on Vivian's physical form. Every sensation was magnified—the weight of her body and the softness of her skin. The intensity of the connection grew, a deep fixation on the physical self that felt distinct from any other bond.
Eventually, the moment was interrupted by footsteps echoing from behind. "Are you finished, so I can take the dress?" the tailor asked. "Almost done," came the reply while pulling the dress off. The leggings were pulled on, white socks adjusted, and a sweater thrown over her bare skin, leaving the bra behind in the haste of the moment. Before leaving the room, control was handed back to Vivian, the memory of the transition made available to her as if it were her own.
She said goodbye to the seamstress, finally able to head out for some exercise. As she began her run and started her smartwatch, she realized the mistake of leaving her bra behind in the changing room. After several minutes of running, she noticed its absence. Her body moved freely, and though it wasn't painful, the sensation was clearly distracting. She tried to push the feeling aside, losing herself in thoughts about Mikka and the recent past. Despite being mentally elsewhere, the agility of her movement was evident. Each stride felt long and flexible, every step coordinated and purposeful.
Vivian was deep in thought, reflecting on the evening. It troubled her that she was about to destroy a human life. In the past, she had never expected to feel pity for anyone. But that was before David. While running, Vivian received a cryptic message on her watch. She deciphered the text, which stated that the mission had been postponed until tomorrow, everything as discussed. Vivian breathed in and out deeply as panic washed over her. The assignment was supposed to take place today; today, she should have been dead. And now Misha was postponing the mission until tomorrow? Vivian thought deeper, thinking about everything she stood to lose. She hated this job, the constant fear of being followed. She kept running her hand back through her hair, trying to calm herself down, which she only managed to do after ten minutes. She took another short breath in and out and ran back to La Campanella. She knew it was going to be a long day. Even more so, I knew that I could not leave her body.