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Authors: Mia Castle

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‘Okay, I’ll look around for the collar
which is what must have been used to create the other Jazzy D. It must still be here as it isn’t in my pencil case.’

Jason
creakily rotated a thumb upwards, and I checked the place out. The Vortexicon was not whirling as it had been on the night of the Worst Ever Party, so it was easier to get close to it. Sure enough, a little strand of Jason’s vintage Fred Perry was clinging to the doorway.

‘It’s here, Jason.’ I skewered the thread onto the end of a pencil and trekked across the room to him. ‘It’s hard to believe, but I think you were duplicated
by the Vortexicon.’

‘T … two of me. Wow. One’s b … bad enough,’ he stuttered. ‘S’okay, I’m warming up now. Nearly normal again.’

Which was the perfect moment to ask him his questions.

‘Jason, I don’t know how much you know about science and DNA and all that, but clearly the Vortexicon extracted your genes from your disgustingly sweaty collar and created the other Jazzy D from your own molecules.’

Jason let out a long whistle. ‘Yep. Far out. I can just about get my head around it because of the splicing and creation of new strains of plant that my dad used to do. Fascinated me, actually.’

This was too much. ‘You like biology?’

‘Love it.’

Too, too, too much by a very long way too much. ‘See, Jason Divine Jazzy D Devaney, if I may call you that, this is where it’s all getting very confusing for me. You love biology, use long words and discuss gene splicing, and yet the other Jazzy D is a naked idiot
who sings incessantly about household items. But you’ve got the same DNA. How is that possible? This must be a mistake.’

Jason chewed his bottom lip for a moment, thinking, and then sud
denly he pushed back his chair with a very determined gleam in his eye. Jumping onto the table, he wiggled his hips in a quite disconcerting manner seeing as they were at my eye level, dropped his leather jacket down onto his shoulders, and stuck his arms out either side as if he was being crucified as he performed some kind of hip roll manoeuvre. Then – it was very hard to watch, to be fair, so I can’t be sure I’m getting all the details right – he paraded up and down the tables, stripped off his jacket, and flung it at me.

‘LAYDEEEEEEEZ!’ he hollered. ‘Are you ready to PARTAYYYYYYY?

And then, dear Dawkins, he hitched his tee-shirt up into a ball to expose his ripply stomach, then pulled it tight across his broad chest and twitched his pecs at me.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Rank. Vomit-worthy. Utterly unacceptable.

‘That’s him,’ I said. ‘That’s completely him. But how’s that you? Are you … you are really bi-polar, aren’t you? It’s like Jekyll and Hyde pop stars …’

He leapt off the table and I screamed, but he was only coming over to me to retrieve his jacket. 

‘They’re both me, sadly,’ he said, tucking his t-shirt back in and huddling back down on the chair, looking normal, grubby and tatty-haired again.
Not shaved, I noticed, which was a bit maddening considering all the trouble I’d gone to in de-hairing. ‘But only one’s the real me. The stage Me is the one that Stephen’s cultivated. The one that fits the image of the band. The one that has to go to the gym three hours a day to get these,’ and he demo’d a large and bulbous bicep, ‘when I’m supposed to be song-writing.’

It made a strange sort of sense. ‘So because you were wearing the collar when you on stage, being Stage Jazzy, that’s what was re-created. Stage Jazzy.’

Man, I had to let Dean know. This machine was a monster!

‘I guess so.’ Jason appeared to be on the verge of saying something else when his eyes darted to the door. ‘Someone’s coming.’

‘Probably not such a good idea to shout at the top of your voice. Particularly when Dean hates that other Jazzy. He’ll lynch you if he finds you here.’

At that we ran around like a pair of imbeciles, trying to hide under the completely open table formation. The voices were horribly close when we finally realised that what looked like blank walls were actually handle-less cupboards; we chose the nearest one and crammed into it, hunched under
a pile of lab coats and what looked like an ECG machine for checking out heart attacks and stuff. I was nearly having one at that very moment, pressed into Jason Devaney’s bulgy bicep and trying to get my head around the creation of fake Jasons.

The door opened and Janice’s voice said, ‘Oh, there they are. I must have left them there this morning when I was checking it over for the visitors.’

‘But you said you heard shouting.’ That was Dean. ‘Cat? Cat, are you in here?’

No. Not here. Not here at all. Not hiding in a cupboard in your most precious room with the guy who has caused the biggest load of trouble EVA. Not me not me not me.

‘We’d better find her,’ said Dean with a sigh. ‘I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on her, not losing her the second my back’s turned. I have to get back to the boardroom. Lock up properly, Janice, and please go check the ladies’ toilets.’

‘Actually, that’s what the shouting was. Ladies. She’s probably stuck in there,’ said Janice. Her voice faded quickly and then there was the ominous rattling of the keys in the door.

‘We’re trapped in here, aren’t we?’ said Jason.

‘Guess so.’

‘And he’s not here.’

‘Who?’

‘The other Me. The whole reason we’re here.’

‘Oh, yes. No, he’s not here.’

I’d sort of forgotten that we were supposed to be tracking down Jason’s double. Once again I’d got all caught up in the sciency moment and lost sight of the really important thing. Clever but stupid, you see?

A bit like the two halves of Jason. 

Chapter 13: No Matter What (Boyzone)

 

We pondered what to do. If I rang to tell Dean where I was, he’d have a tanty. If Jason rang, he’d have three tanties. Then if he realised we were together he’d have a coronary, and possibly lose a fiancée. There was nothing to do but sit and wait until the door was re-opened and sneak out. It took us a while to realise we didn’t have to stand in the cupboard the whole time, though. Eventually we popped out into the gloom of the lab, and sat back down at the table.

‘They’ll have to come back soon,’ I
said. ‘The Japanese have to inspect the Vortexicon.’

‘What, all of them?’ said Jason. ‘That’s going to be a squeeze.’

Hmmm. That was what I’d thought too. Was there something in the V room that was swapping our brain cells? ‘Nooooo, not all of them. Just the ones who might want to invest.’

Jason’s face turned serious. ‘It’s a bit dangerous, this machine, isn’t it? I’m not sure anybody should be investing in it.’

I was starting to think the same thing (again), but suddenly felt very disloyal for thinking it – to science in general, and to my step-dad-to-be who was doing brilliant things in genetics. Apart from the Other Jazzy. That was probably a low point in genetics. I changed the subject.

‘So what would you inve
st in if you could? Oh, you can! Keep forgetting you’re super rich.’

Jason let out a short laugh. ‘Not really. I’m
very comfortable, of course, but Stephen’s got hold of the purse strings. And I’m tied in to a three year contract, so I couldn’t …’ He stopped short. ‘I’d go back to college and re-train, as a horticulturalist. And buy a nursery – the plant kind, obviously. Maybe a chain of nurseries.’

Now I knew there was something weird about the V room. It was turning ridiculous Jason Devaney into a perfectly decent human being. One who thought like me! ‘You’re kidding, right?’

‘Nope. I loved Dad’s market garden, especially all the seedlings. There’s something honest about it all, and it would be a tribute to him since he died. Of course I love my music, and I thought Double Vision would be it for ever, but it’s all a bit …’ He shrugged.

Then I remembered something. ‘
That nursery idea must be a really strong instinct in you, or something. Even Other You liked the smell of slugs.’

‘Cool,’ said Jason. ‘What about you?’

‘Yeah, actually I quite like the smell too – earthy and damp.’

He laughed.
‘No, what would you invest in?’

Well, And well again. That was a puzzler. ‘Um, my
university education.’

‘New car for your mum?’

‘Ah, yes. And then … this, I suppose.’ I waved a hand around the Vortexicon lab. ‘I think all this is brilliant. I’d just make sure it was put to the proper use.’

Jason smiled, his teeth glowing. ‘You’d use your power for good?’

‘Of course. I’m nice. I’m a really nice person.’

Jason suddenly looked like he was going to say something
, but had a little internal struggle and stopped himself. Then he said, ‘Why did you call yourself Big Bird in your text?’

‘Well, duh,’ I said, holding out my hair wings. ‘All I need is to be yellow and I’d look just like him.’

‘No, you wouldn’t.’ For the first time, he stared straight at me, and I could feel myself blushing like a complete idiot. ‘You look … fine.’

And this was the perfect, the PERFECT opportunity to point him towards what I needed him to focus on. ‘I’ll tell you who looks fine – my friend Dolores.’

‘Scary collar girl? I only really saw her fingernails.’

‘Well, she really lerrrrvs you,’ I said, not letting him off that easily. If I was going to help him find the other Jazzy, he could darn well help me get Freddie the Ferd Nerd. ‘And she’s totally gorgeous. In fact, tonight I’ve got this do
uble date with the most beautiful boy ever and his geeky buddy, and Dolores is going to be looking so fantastic without even knowing it that Freddie will be all eyes for her and won’t even notice me …’ Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up. Why was I blithering on to him in this ridiculous way? And why could I not stop? ‘Thing is, Freddie’s the one I like even though he barely knows I’m alive, and his nerdy mate likes me, and Dolores loves you, and these chemical reactions are just all wrong. Just all completely wrong.’

At several points during my little monologue, Jason had held up a finger to interrupt, but at my last sentence he dropped his hand into his lap and cocked his head at me. ‘These
whats
are all wrong?’ he said.

‘The chemical reacti
ons of the brain,’ I said. ‘The things people mistake for love. It’s just a chemical reaction in the organ of the brain. A powerful one, I’ll grant you, and that’s what I might think I have for Freddie and his attractive upper lip, but it’s just surges of serotonin and dopamine and that kind of stuff. Love,’ I added in case he wasn’t following me properly.

He stared at me as if he’d never heard anything quite like it in his life. Which I could quite understand as I am more than usually clever. Then, ‘No, it’s not,’ he said. ‘Well, it might be what Dolores mistakes for love for me
as she doesn’t actually know me, but love is not a chemical reaction. No way.’

‘It is. I even thought of a t
-shirt for it. I CRY. I Chemical Reaction You.’

Jason slapped his hand on the table emphatically. ‘It’s not! Love is … a feeling.’

‘Well, that’s original.’

He looked quite annoyed at that. ‘Not a feeling of “ewww, I really want to kiss your attractive upper lip”’, he said sarcastically, and so accurately
that I now knew he was reading my mind. ‘It’s a feeling of … of knowing you’re safe. Of coming home. Being surer than you’ve ever been that this person is never going to let you down; never going to leave you alone again. It’s a feeling of softness, and easiness, and happiness. It’s not just a … a nuclear reaction in your frontal lobe.’

S
o now he was trying to be sciency. ‘Frontal lobe, eh? Aren’t you the clever one?’

‘Well, I’m not thick,’ he snapped. ‘Just because I’m a pop s
tar doesn’t mean I’m uneducated or illiterate. I’m pretty smart, actually.’

And I could quite clearly hear that pretty smart was what he was. Pretty and smart, actually. Not as pretty as Freddie (far too muscly) and probably not as smart, thought I didn’t have much to base that on, but definitely a different kettle of fish than Other Jazzy.

Also large and angry and two feet away.

‘Okay, okay,’ I said, as much to myself as to him. I felt strangely fluttery and panicked, almost as if I might cry. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t think you’re thick.’

‘No, I’m sorry, I over-reacted,’ he said. ‘I just thought … I thought you were different.’

‘Oh, I am definitely different,’ I said. ‘Different to what?’ Just needed to be sure.

‘To the rest of them.’

I didn’t quite know what to say to that, so we sat in silence for a while as I thought about how different I am to the rest of them … Always different. Different and
an outsider, and tall so that I hunched over to try to make myself the same height as everyone else (and my mum had to send me to ballroom dancing lessons to combat the hump that was appearing between my shoulder blades). Clever and knowing the answer but realising that saying the answer aloud didn’t make me any friends. In fact, it could cause more problems than I could ever imagine.

Yeah, I was different, all right.

I thought of something. ‘Do you know, at the school in Jersey, I didn’t speak to anyone but the teacher for the whole six months I was there. There’s no way I would have spoken to you, even if you’d been at the same school.’

Jason lifted his head. ‘Nobody at all? That’s awful.’

‘Well, once …’ Gosh. I hadn’t been into this territory for a very long time. ‘Once I got a question right and then kept talking to the teacher, and one of the other girls punched me in the playground. Called me an alien because I was so tall and knew things the others didn’t. So after that I kept my mouth shut, and only spoke to Gemma.’

Ouch. There it was. Out in the open. The name I swore never to mention. She-who-shall-not-be-named.

It was bound to come. ‘Who’s Gemma?’

‘Nobody.’

‘The only person you dared to speak to for six whole months was a nobody? I don’t think so.’ And then he did a really weird thing, Jason Devaney from that same Jersey school. He reached out and took hold of my hand. ‘Come on. I showed you my outrageous stage self. You can tell me who Gemma is.’

H
e squeezed my fingers encouragingly, and somehow the words popped out of my mouth. ‘She’s my sister. My step-sister.’

Jason looked surprised. ‘Omigod, is she … did she die? I’m so sorry.’

But she didn’t die. That would have been bearable. ‘No, she’s alive. She just left with Dad when he went. Divided up the family unit. And she … she blamed me for splitting up my mum and her dad, because I was such hard work and Mum had to worry over me so much. She said it was my fault, and she never wanted to see me again.’ And suddenly I was crying. ‘I was only ten. She was sixteen – the age I am now. It really really upset me.’

So Jason did what any normal nice guy would do and pulled me into his shoulder and patted my back
in sort of a comforting rubbing motion with his mouth in my left hair wing, going ‘Oh, Cat,’ and ‘Never mind,’ and ‘Poor little Catherine Melissa Andrews’ until I stopped crying, and then he said, ‘You’ll be ruining your make-up.’

‘I don’t wear make-
up.’ I sniffed. ‘Oh! You didn’t shave your head.’

‘No. Decided I like my hair,’ he said with a grin.

I looked up at the top of his head. ‘I like your hair too. Shame to be bald at your age.’

We were just looking at each other, me studying his ha
iry head and him apparently observing what a naked, make-up-free face looked like, when the door rattled again. We dived for the cupboard, and then when the Japanese presentation was in full flow about ten minutes later, we crawled out under cover of darkness, trying not to giggle.

Jason lingered at the emergency exit for a moment as he looked at his phone. The
n he held it up for me to see. ‘I think we’ve found the other Jazzy D,’ he said.

Sure enough, there was J
ason’s double, large as life though wearing half the clothes, with his arm draped around an actress and flash bulbs going off all around him. Dolores’ plan had worked.

‘Is that Keira Knightley?’ I said. I didn’t remember her being that auburn haired.

‘No. Keira’s married, anyway. I’ve no idea who that is,’ said Jason, with an expression on his face that suggested he’d prefer to keep it that way. ‘But at least we know where he is.’

He pointed to the sign above their heads. ‘He’s gone to Stephen’s offices. I’d better …’

‘Yes, you’d better …’

Scanning the area quickly, Jason was about to set off when he suddenly turned back on himself. ‘You know your date tonight?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Just be yourself.’

Wow. Well, that was rich, coming from Jason Jekyll and Jazzy D Hyde. And what kind of advice was that? ‘Be myself? You must be kidding. What, do you want to be alone forever?’

He laughed and shook his head at the same time. ‘You won’t … He’s not going …
The guy sounds like a prat, to be honest. But I promise you, Cat. Yourself is enough.’


Oh, I know that. Two for the price of one, at my height.’

‘Stop already.’

For some reason, it bugged him when I made jokes about myself. ‘Okay.’

Satisfied,
he sneaked off back through the trees, and I sauntered casually back to Reception and told Janice I’d been out for a look around the university, and sorry if I’d alarmed anyone, and then I got a lift with Dean back home so I could get ready for my date with Freddie. Or rather, my double date with Freddie and Nerdy Mate.

That Vortexicon must have been giving off brain-frying radiation or something, because no matter how hard
I tried, I could no longer remember what Freddie’s attractive upper lip looked like.

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