No Two Are Alike

15 | the way the cookie crumbles

Things were not going to plan.

Logan glanced desperately towards the corridor, his eyes flicking to the clock. Shit. Ten minutes to show time. And exactly 40 minutes since he was supposed to meet Jack outside the studio. Which he would have done, if it wasn't for a very angry man with a mustache and questionable taste in loafers.

He was beginning to hate this Victor bloke.

"Look, mate," Logan said. "I just need to use the toilets. It's an emergency."

"What if they call us?" he hissed.

"I'll only be a moment."

"No way." Victor crossed his arms. "You can wet yourself on stage for all I care."

Logan closed his eyes. Oh, god. He was having "Third Wise Man" flashbacks. Nah, mate; screw this. He was going to find Jack.

He moved towards the exit, and Victor dived in front of him.

"Nice try, Winters," he snarled. "You're staying."

Logan gritted his teeth. Nice, he reminded himself. Be nice.

"Mate, I really don't feel well," he said. "I just need some air."

This, unfortunately, had the opposite intended effect.

"Don't let him go!" The dark-haired girl — Priya? Preeta? — sprang to her feet. "He's going to do a runner."

Victor looked alarmed. "Are you going to do a runner?"

"I wish I could a runner," the Asian boy — Eddie — groaned from the corner. "God, I feel ill." He clutched his stomach, looking slightly green. "That last pint really isn't sitting well. Do you have any Paracetamol, Priya?"

Logan closed his eyes. "I'm not going to do a runner."

Well, not technically, anyways; he would only be switching places with Jack, who would reappear within minutes. He was hardly pulling a Houdini. Victor's mustache quivered as he jabbed a finger towards a chair.

"Sit!" he barked.

Logan took a deep breath. Oh, sod it; he was coming clean.

"Okay, look, mate," Logan said, "I'm going to be straight up with you." He braced himself. "I'm not Jack. I'm his brother, Logan."

Victor stared at him for a long moment. Then he snorted.

"Sure," he said. "And I'm Christina Rossetti."

"No, really!" Logan darted towards the door, and Priya leaped in front of him like a hockey goalie. "We're identical twins! We switched places."

"Uh-huh. Okay, Jack."

Logan massaged his temples. Shit.

"Mate, if you'd just let me call him—"

"King's College?" A dark-skinned woman wearing a headset popped her head into the room. "We're ready for you."

Logan's stomach plunged. Double shit.

"You heard the woman," Victor said, seizing Logan's arm. "Let's go."

Logan hardly had time to think as Victor frog-marched him through the corridor. Behind them, Eddie was still whinging about his stomach to a rather unsympathetic Priya. Logan was dimly aware of the crew member rattling off a series of instructions, but he was no longer listening.

Holy hell.

What had he gotten himself into it?

Bright stage lights hit him. The audience didn't cheer as they walked in — this was England, after all, not America — but there was a light round of applause. Logan took a seat in the third chair and Victor practically shoved him out of it.