"Let's see what being Vivica Winters is all about," Bell muttered, staring at her reflection once more. She wasn't sure how this happened or why, but if she was going to be stuck in this body, she might as well dive into the chaos headfirst.
But as soon as she said the words, a new wave of panic hit her. She was in a completely different world—Vivica's world—and knew next to nothing about it.
Diving headfirst into this would be stupid. I need to get my bearings first, she thought. She glanced at the papers the woman had dropped off on the bed, but her eyes darted past them to the sleek phone sitting on the nightstand. She grabbed it, her fingers moving clumsily over the unfamiliar device.
Let's start small, she told herself, pulling up the search bar. VibeNation Magazine? Sounds like something big… She quickly typed it in, a series of headlines and images flashing across the screen. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw Vivica's face plastered all over the site. Apparently, Vivica was one of the most iconic figures in the music world, her influence extending far beyond just albums—fashion, activism, endorsements. Bell could hardly wrap her mind around it.
Scrolling through articles, interviews, and photoshoots, the weight of her situation sank in further. I'm supposed to be this woman? How am I going to pull this off?
But then her eyes stopped on a single line from an article: "Vivica Winters is known not just for her talent but for her ability to dominate every stage she touches. Her voice, her charisma—she's in a league of her own."
Her voice, Bell thought bitterly. Her hand shook as she set the phone down, the reality hitting her hard. I can't sing. Not even close.
Her mind flashed to the woman's earlier words: "The car's already outside waiting to take you to your recording session."
A lump formed in her throat. Recording session? She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. She could barely carry a tune in the shower, let alone in front of professionals expecting perfection. Bell dropped the phone and sank back onto the bed, feeling the walls close in around her. This wasn't just some minor identity swap. This was Vivica's life—a life filled with fame, expectations, and talents she didn't have.
"I can't do this," she whispered, the weight of it all crashing down. She covered her face with her hands, her mind racing. I don't even know how to pretend to be her. But then something inside her stirred—a determination she hadn't felt in a long time. She couldn't give up, not yet. Not when she hadn't even tried.
I'll figure this out, she told herself. But first, I have to get through this VibeNation thing… and that recording session. One step at a time.
Bell paced around the room, her nerves tangled up in knots. She had no idea how Vivica even sounded when she sang. She grabbed the phone again, scrolling through Vivica's social media. There must be something I can use.
It didn't take long to find videos—clips from concerts, interviews, and behind-the-scenes moments where Vivica's powerful voice rang out, captivating audiences. Bell's stomach flipped as she listened. There was no way she could fake that.
"Okay, okay… just breathe," she whispered to herself. But her mind was spinning out of control, and she couldn't stop the onslaught of thoughts. What if they find out? What if I embarrass myself? What if they realize I'm not Vivica?
A soft knock came at the door. She jumped.
"Miss Winters? It's time, the chauffeur is around" the voice on the other side called. The assistant from earlier.
Bell stared at the door, her heart pounding. Time to face the music… literally.
She swallowed hard and made her way out. As the assistant led her down the hall out of the house, Bell's mind raced, trying to think of a way to stall, to avoid being thrown into a recording session where she would undoubtedly fail. On arriving at the studio, she could already hear voices up ahead—the producer, the engineers, all waiting for Vivica.
When she stepped into the studio, the atmosphere shifted. Everyone's eyes were on her. The producer, a man with a pair of thick headphones around his neck, gave her a broad smile. "There she is! Ready to make magic?"
Bell forced a smile, her throat dry. "Uh… sure. Let's do it."
They ushered her into the vocal booth, the microphone gleaming in front of her. She stared at it, her hands trembling at her sides. Her head was spinning again. I can't do this. I don't even know the lyrics.
The door to the booth closed, sealing her in. The producer's voice came over the speakers. "Whenever you're ready, Vivica."
Bell looked down, pretending to fiddle with her earpiece, stalling. Her gaze darted to the sound engineer outside the booth, then back to the microphone. Come on… think!
Suddenly, the door to the studio burst open, a flurry of voices cutting through the tension. "I need Vivica, right now. There's been a mix-up with the VibeNation shoot, and we need her down there immediately," the assistant said, rushing toward the producer.
Bell's heart lifted at the interruption. The producer sighed but nodded, waving her out of the booth. "Alright, Vivica. Looks like we'll have to reschedule."
Bell exhaled, relief flooding her. She hurried out of the booth, her legs shaky as she followed the assistant. Saved by the bell, she thought, grateful for the temporary reprieve.
But as they stepped out into the hallway, her relief was short-lived. The assistant turned to her with an apologetic smile. "Sorry for pulling you out of the studio, but we'll need you at VibeNation ASAP. They're waiting for your interview."
Bell blinked. "Interview?"
"Yes, with VNM."
"VN.. ooh yeah VibeNation. That interview" She said in realization laughing nervously.
"Your cover shoot and interview. Don't worry, it won't take long."
Bell's stomach dropped. I barely escaped the recording session, and now I have to face an interview? She didn't know anything about Vivica's career, let alone enough to answer questions from a top magazine.