Alpha Swap

One day, Evan Robinson, a top actor, wore my face during an interview.

The host asked, "Kristine, what's your ideal type like?"

Evan replied, "Ideally, he's six feet tall, a double award-winning actor, born in July, with a three-syllable name."

I thought to myself, "Why not just shout out your ID number while you're at it?"

1

At the filming set, I wore Evan's face and nervously flipped through the script.

"Relax, don't stress," Evan's agent Jack Walton whispered, trying to comfort me.

Ever since Evan and I swapped souls, we hadn't found a way to fix it.

Jack couldn't hold off the director's pressure any longer.

So, he dragged me, trapped in Evan's body, to the set.

No way I was not nervous.

Evan was this year's newly crowned double award-winning actor.

I was just a small-time actress starting to gain some recognition.

Sure, I aimed for strong performances, but compared to Evan, I was miles behind in box office numbers.

"Three, two, one, action," the director called.

I snapped into character instantly.

In this movie, Evan played a martial hero plotting to assassinate a corrupt emperor for justice.

The emperor was played by Jackson Morgan, the hottest heartthrob of the month.

"You're a smart man. Join me now, and it's not too late," Jackson said, delivering his lines. "Drop your sword, and I'll grant you riches and a high rank. We'll rule the world together."

I followed the script, roaring back, "Shut it. Your end is near, so stop dreaming."

I strode toward the emperor and pressed the sword against his neck.

"Hand over the decree," I demanded.

The emperor trembled on his throne, his eyes brimming with terrified tears.

I had to admit, Jackson earned his heartthrob title.

That pitiful, teary-eyed look nearly threw me off as a fan.

"Cut," the director shouted, halting the crew.

"Evan, something's off with your expression," the director said, frowning.

I nodded, ready for feedback.

"Your look just now… it's hard to pin down what's wrong," he muttered, reviewing the footage.

"That's it. The expression's off. You two are enemies, not lovers. Why are you giving him that dazzled look?"

His words sparked a ripple of suggestive glances between me and Jackson from the crew.

I cringed so hard I could've dug a hole in the floor.

It wasn't entirely my fault.

Ever since marrying Evan, the jealous type, I hadn't dared watch handsome guys' videos.

This rare chance to work with my idol made my heart race a bit.

But I hadn't expected the director to catch my fleeting distraction.

"Adjust and let's go again," the director said.

"Action."

I dove back into the role, forcing myself to ignore Jackson's striking features.

I silently repeated a calming mantra in my head.

My skills kicked in.

After adjusting, the rest of the shoot went smoothly.

The director even came over to praise me.

"One last scene tomorrow. Keep it up," he said.

I patted my chest confidently. "Don't worry, Director. I'll nail it," I promised.

Tomorrow's scene involved Evan's character disguising as a woman to infiltrate a banquet.

While the emperor was distracted by beauty, he'd strike the fatal blow.

I chuckled to myself.

I might struggle with other roles, but playing a woman? That I could handle.

2

I returned to the hotel that night and video-called Evan.

"Babe, I miss you so much," came my own voice, dripping with sweetness from the phone. "I looked in the mirror 1, 528 times today just to see you."

I shuddered.

Was that how I sounded when I got sappy?

"Why's your screen dark?" I asked. "Why not turn on the camera?"

I glanced at the phone, seeing only my side of the call.

After a brief silence, my own voice sighed. "Flirting with my own face feels… kind of gross."

Fair enough. Same here.

I casually asked, "How'd work go today? Those bitches didn't give you trouble, did they?"

Evan, wearing my face, had gone to guest-star on a live reality show.

Several female celebrities joined him on the show, and some had given me attitude before.