There was a brief, wonderful moment when Link's alarm went off at six o' clock the following morning, when he was no longer quite asleep, but not yet quite awake, wherein Link felt immensely satisfied. The bed was small, clearly not meant for two people, but nevertheless there was someone sleeping beside him, someone whom he liked, and who liked him back in the same way, or at least had the potential to, if the previous night was any indication.
In that brief, wonderful moment, Link almost thought that Sol was the answer to all his love related problems. It felt uncharacteristically lucky, for Link to find someone so perfect for him on the very first day, but maybe his luck was changing. Then he was pulled out of that moment when Sol sat up and said, in a voice that sounded just a little bit off, softly, but meaningfully, "Ah shit."
Link was about to ask if something was wrong, hoping against hope that it hadn't just been the alcohol that made Sol act the way he did—he really hadn't seemed drunk. However, when Link opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that he was most certainly not looking at Sol's aura. This one was stronger, mostly grey and green but with thin, warm-colored veins running though it like cracks in fine china. Understandably, this surprised Link, and instead of asking what was wrong, he accidentally asked, "Who the hell are you?"
Once he woke up a bit more, and his bleary vision cleared, Link could tell that the man he was in bed with looked identical to Sol, with the same almond-shaped eyes, and olive skin, and slight frame, but Link had grown to trust auras far more than appearances over the years, and nobody's aura changed that much overnight.
It couldn't be explained by alcohol. Link knew from experience that alcohol only brought out existing personality traits, it couldn't change them, and it certainly couldn't make a charismatic yellow out of a dull grey. Sure auras could change a lot over time, but not that much that quickly. It simply wasn't possible.
"Ha ha, you're naked aren't you . . . and so am I," said the man who wasn't Sol with a mortified laugh and a pained expression halfway between a grimace and a hysterical smile. "That doesn't bode well. Please tell me you were too drunk to remember anything from last night."
"I didn't drink anything last night," Link said, adjusting the blanket over his lap, trying to remain calm. "But you're not Sol, are you? That's who I came up here with."
"Yeah, well, not exactly, no?" The man seemed to be pointedly looking anywhere except for Link, the ceiling, the walls, the bay-view out the window. "Really sorry, but uh, could you . . . clothes? Maybe?"
"Yeah, I'll get dressed and get out of your hair," Link said, getting out of bed while not-Sol turned his head away, ears reddening. "But could you at least explain to me what's going on, and why you look like Sol, and why I woke up with you next to me instead of him?"
"Uhhhh, well, that's kind of . . . wait, how could you tell, anyway?" Link froze with his underwear halfway up his legs.
"That's . . . because . . . you didn't act like him," Link answered, unable to think of a better lie on the spot. Luckily, the other guy seemed to buy it.
"I guess that makes sense. He and I really aren't anything alike." He sighed heavily. "Alright, fine, um . . . my name is Michael, and I . . . can't think of a decent lie this early in the morning, and I can't think of an appropriate preamble, so I'm just gonna come out and say it." Michael took a deep breath and Link could see his whole body tense up like he was about to say something terrifying that could ruin his whole life. "I have dissociative identity disorder, which basically means that I have multiple people—or personalities, or alters, or whatever you wanna call them—living in my head, and by extension, in my body, and sometimes they take the wheel, like Sol did last night."
"I see, so . . . Sol is one of these people?" Link deduced, zipping up his jeans and trying to find his socks. "And are you, like, the OG personality?"
"Yes and yes," Michael said.
"Are they still around even when they aren't behind the wheel?"
"Yeah. Currently, Sol is complaining about me ruining his 'morning-after plans' but he doesn't get a say after the shit he pulled last night." Michael cringed as soon as the words were out of his mouth, and Link very nearly joined him.
"About that . . . I'm really sorry man," Link apologized, buttoning his shirt. "If I had known all this last night, I wouldn't have done anything. That wasn't cool of me, and you didn't deserve that, so I'm sorry."
Michael swallowed and stared at Link, really looking at him for the first time since they woke up. "Thank you," he said, almost awestruck that an apology was even being offered. Then he shook his head. "But you couldn't have known. I mean, Sol didn't tell you, and he wasn't going to, I'm sure. I think he actually liked you. I try to keep him on a leash, but it never works. Sol pretty much does as he pleases, so I'm sorry about him."
"Gee, thanks."
"No, I mean . . . ugh, nevermind."
"Yeah," Link said, slipping on his shoes and not bothering to tie them. "I'm gonna go find my room. Nice meeting you, Michael."
"Likewise." Michael gave him a little wave and pressed his lips together with an uncomfortable look on his face.
He stepped out of the room, and frowned as he looked at the number on the door for the first time. He hadn't bothered to even spare it a glance the previous night. There had been other things on his mind then.
He pulled out the key that was still in his pocket which was engraved with the number 624.
He looked again at the number on the door. It was 624.
He looked back at the man he'd woken up in bed with.
"Your last name wouldn't happen to be Yun, would it?" he asked, squinting.
"Yeah . . . why?"
Link squeezed his eyes shut with a deep, awkward, sigh and tried for an apologetic smile. Whether or not his intention managed to break through his embarrassment, he didn't know. "Cause it looks like this is my room, and that means we're roommates." Michael flinched, like he'd been boxed on the ear. "Hey, you okay?"
"Yeah," Michael grumbled. "Sol get's loud when he's happy, and right now, he's ecstatic."
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