Obsession

I do have my best panties on, though, just in case. A girl has to be prepared for all eventualities after all.

“And no sex either”, Alice says, at the virtual precipice of my immediate future, thus stomping all over that possibility. “Make them leave wanting it tonight, and the next time will be like a thunder storm in a firework’s factory.”

We’re outside the bar, late enough that it’s inevitable they’ll already be inside, and far too committed to turn back now.

“Are you ready?” Alice asks.

I checked the front door of the apartment six times before we were finally able to leave. After getting here, and the reason that we are now much later to arrive than expected, I had to get Alice to go all the way back home again to check I hadn’t left on the gas. In the ten years or so my OCD has developed into something more than an inconvenience, I’ve never had it as bad as it is right now. Of course I’m not prepared. There is no amount of sexy panties, Avengers T-shirts, nail polish or forbidden desires so hot they’d melt Superman’s morning boner that would make me feel ready, but I’m here now, I’m doing this and there is no way that I’m going to let my inner voice convince me otherwise.

Inside this bar, there are two identical looking men perfect in every way for me, and my mission tonight is to make sure they both want to take me home. I just hope I know which one is which.

“No”, I say.

“Good”, Alice says. “That means you know this is real.”

I take a deep breath, think of the largest, palindromic prime number I can remember and then follow Alice through the heavy swing doors that separate me from my destiny, and onward into the heat of battle.

I imagine patrons to be patrolmen, standing guard at the border that separates two countries at war, ready to scrutinize my papers and not only deny my request to pass through but stand me up against a firing squad for even thinking about deceiving them. Innocuous glances turn into suspicious looks as Alice and I advance towards the centre of my invented showpiece, in order to get a better look at the hidden corners of the gargantuan bar, where Jack and Logan are undoubtedly sat.

I’m literally terrified, but pretending I’m a double agent trying to smuggle secrets out of one country and into another, where my lovers have been waiting years for my return, under the pain of death if anyone gets a whiff of my plans, seems to make the whole thing a lot easier to take.

I know this is Brooklyn not Checkpoint Charlie, and I’m Penny Breen not Ellen Rometsch but I can’t help but imagine a suitable scenario to make the reality of what I’m actually doing here, way easier to take. Trying to get from one side of Berlin to the other would be a piece of cake compared to walking through a packed bar looking for two versions of exactly the same man, unsure whether you’re likely to see them first, or the other way round, and what the hell you might do if they didn’t recognize you.

That sinking feeling of self doubt comes in waves as Alice and I side-step, zig-zag and push our way through the gathered crowd, the more time that passes before we make contact, more time for me to worry about what might happen when we finally do.

Eventually, when I’m beginning to doubt if they are here at all, I see both twins smiling at me in synchronization, a look of solidarity shared amongst them equally that can mean only one thing: they’ve been watching me all this time without me even realizing it.

Seeing them there, shining like a pair of suns breaking through the grey thickness of a rain cloud, I can’t help but stop dead in my tracks like a racehorse refusing the final jump.

Alice pulls up alongside me, her eyes as big as dinner plates and fixed on the incredible pair.

“Fucking hell”, she says, loud enough for the entire bar to hear it.

“Yep”, I simper. “That’s them.”

We approach the table slowly, holding onto each other for support, in case the sheer beauty of these two might be enough on it’s own to literally knock us off our feet.

“Hi, Penny”, Jack says, the first to rise from the table to greet me.

At the interview it was a firm handshake and a designer suit, here it’s casual clothes and a double kiss, just how I like them. He’s clean shaven with a hint of stubble, and he smells so good I can’t help but picture long Saturday afternoons curled up in bed, which makes me hold onto him for way longer than I know I should.

When I finally let him go, I feel like I’ve been standing too close to a bonfire. My cheeks are red, my chest is rosy and my belly feels like a furnace. Thankfully everyone’s too busy saying hello to pay any attention, and while Jack introduces himself to Alice, Logan comes over to me.

Not to be outdone by his brother, Logan pulls me into him, gives me a solid kiss on each cheek and a strong squeeze just for good measure. When he’s done, not only do I feel dizzy, I’m practically burning up.

“I’m so glad you called”, he says.

“Me too”, I say, trying to pretend he hasn’t just melted my panties.

“It’s nice to finally do this properly.”

Any hotter and I’m going to explode. How am I going to get through this evening without rushing to the restroom every five minutes to calm my nerves, splash water on my face to cool myself down and distract myself by scribbling my fantasies out on the wall? There’s only so much one woman can take, after all.

With the introductions complete, we sit down around the table, the semi-circular seat such that we’re all pretty much sat on the same side, myself between Jack and Logan, while Alice and Jack take the flanks. I am literally wedged in, each side of my body in contact with one of these two twins, and I wouldn’t be anywhere else in the world for all the money you could pay me.

Alice looks just as awestruck as I am, choosing to position herself as close to Logan as possible, despite there being a sufficient amount of space on the other side of her for them both to sit comfortably without touching. I don’t blame her at all, though. That’s exactly what I’d be doing if the situation were reversed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier. I wanted to”, I say to Logan.

“That’s okay”, Logan says. “I just figured you weren’t all that interested. It was kind of a weird thing to do, appear out of nowhere, give you my number and disappear again without saying anything else.”

“I thought it was cool”, I admit. “I was gutted when I thought I’d never see you again. And then I did, or at least I thought I did, when Jack walked into the office to interview me.”

“That must have been weird”, Jack says.

“And disappointing”, Logan adds. “When you found out he was essentially an inferior version of me.”

Jack can’t help but laugh. “Always compensating”, he says. “You’ll have to get used to that.”

“I didn’t know he wasn’t you”, I say, “that was what was so weird. I thought he was pretending not to know me, or, even worse, that he’d forgotten what I looked like.”

“I wouldn’t forget what you look like”, Logan says.

“And I wouldn’t do that”, Jack adds quickly. “But we’d never met before, so I didn’t know you thought we had.”

“I have a question”, Alice says, her hand in the air. “You guys are, like, exactly the same as each other. You know, for all intents and purposes, identical. If you both disappeared for a moment and then came back I wouldn’t know who was who, which could be a bit embarrassing. How are we meant to tell you apart?”

“I’m the attractive one”, Logan says without hesitation. “And the most intelligent.”

“If this were a film,

and you had to shoot the cyborg version”, Jack says confidently, “You always shoot the one that speaks first. And you’ll notice it’s usually to talk themselves up too.”

Logan’s shaking his head. “In every film I’ve ever seen, the first person to talk is the real twin. When your life’s in danger, humans are always faster than robots”, he says.

“It’s easier than that”, I cut in, this kind of conversation my bread and butter, “but you have to know what you’re looking for. We’re not trying to distinguish between a real version and a copy here, we’re trying to distinguish between two copies of something real. You can’t just look for something human in that case, you have to look for something specifically human for each character.”

“Sherlock Holmes it”, Alice says, excitedly.

“Exactly. Jack and Logan may look exactly the same to the casual observer, but there are a million different things that are specific to them that make them stand out as different people. It’s those subtle differences specifically that make them unique as individuals.”

“Such as?” Logan says.

“I don’t know yet”, I beam. “I haven’t had long enough to observe you both.”

“Our mother still gets us mixed up”, Jack says. “And she’s had a quarter of a century. It would take someone very special to know how to do it without making an error.”

“Penny has some weird talents, believe me”, Alice says. “It probably wouldn’t take her all that long in your company.”

“Well, if her powers of observation are anything like her drawings”, Jack says, “then she’ll probably be able to tell us apart by the end of the evening.”

I’m not exactly sure which drawing Jack’s referring to but my mind’s so close to an orgasmic menage anyway, it goes there naturally.

“Jack told me your drawings were amazing”, Logan says excitedly. “I’d love to see some of your work some day.”

“I don’t know if amazing is the right word”, I say modestly. “I do get a kick out of it, though.”

“What kind of stuff do you do?” Logan asks.