"So it's pretty clear you're all different versions of me," I started, once we'd all squished onto the couch that definitely didn't fit four. "And right before this happened, I was complaining about my life and how much it sucked. So maybe you're my options, and I'm supposed to figure out which of you I want to be."
"Well, that's easy, then." Of course Glamorous Me was the first to speak up. "I'm getting out of this tiny apartment. I'm marrying rich, and I'll never have to worry about money ever again."
"Your fiancé," I said. "Tell me: what's your favourite thing about him? Other than his wallet?"
She instantly looked flustered. "Well... we haven't actually spent much time together. He's away for work a lot. But once I move in, I'm sure I'll get to know everything about him..."
"She doesn't even know who she's marrying," Arty Me piped up. "Sure, she'll be rich, but what's she going to do all day? I've got a job I love. What could be more fulfilling than that?"
Businesswoman Me gave her a look. "And you make enough money from it?"
Arty Me flushed, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, I may be a few months behind on my rent..." she admitted sheepishly. "But like I said, I know this painting's going to be the one that sells! It'll turn everything around."
"Don't listen to her." Businesswoman Me turned to me. "A job can only be so 'fulfilling' if you don't make enough to live. I've got the best of both worlds. A career I love, and enough money to get out of this place. I just haven't got around to it yet."
I studied her for a little longer than the others; she did have a point. But I had one question. "What do you do outside of work? For fun?"
This seemed to catch her off guard. "Outside of work?" she echoed. "Well, I mean, I don't really have time to focus on anything else..."
"OK, OK, so we've all got our flaws," Glamorous Me cut in, gesturing around the room. "But who's perfect? I mean, you can't honestly say that you've got your life together."
She pointed at me, and my gaze dropped to the stain still seeping into the front of my shirt.
"Point taken," I said. "My life isn't all fun and games, either. But if I'm supposed to be picking the person I want to be... well, no offence, but I think I'm going to need a little more time."
The tail end of my sentence was interrupted by a knock on the door. I looked at the three of them questioningly, but got equally confused expressions back. "Stay there, out of sight," I said, because I really didn't want to explain to the unexpected visitor why there were three replicas of myself on the couch.
I opened the door carefully, blocking the view into the room.
When I saw it was Sam, my heart didn't know whether to skip a beat or sink.
He smiled nervously. "Hey. Sorry. Didn't mean to disturb – just wanted to let you know you left your keys in the door."
I looked down, and there they were: still swinging in the temperamental lock. "Oh! Lifesaver. Thank you."
"I thought I'd also seize my opportunity, though."
"What do you mean?"
He scratched the back of his neck. "I've been wanting to do this for a while, and maybe it's a bad time because you've clearly not had the best day, but... would you maybe want to grab a drink sometime? The two of us?"
My eyes widened. Was he really doing this now? I'd imagined it so many times before, a dizzying array of potential scenarios – but none had involved me here, flustered, covered in cold pizza and with three other versions of me hiding in the living room.
It wasn't what I imagined, but really, what did that matter?
Maybe this version of me wasn't so bad after all.
"Yeah," I breathed, breaking into a smile. "I'd love that."
Once we'd exchanged numbers and said goodbye, I closed the door and leaned against it, a giddy excitement washing over me.
That's when I realized the room was empty.
It was just me.
