The room felt wrong somehow.

When William's eyes fluttered open, confusion flickered across his features before the anger took hold. The velvet chaise lounge beneath him, the pale pink walls adorned with vintage lace curtains, the elaborate vanity mirror surrounded by fairy lights---all of it felt simultaneously familiar and foreign, like a memory viewed through frosted glass.

"Julie!" His voice cracked with indignation as he shot to his feet, the movement sending his tight black crop top askew. The sheer lace sleeves caught the afternoon light streaming through those same delicate curtains as he gestured wildly. "You can't just hypnotize me! I'll dress however I want, and you can't stop me!"

His high-waisted red leather skirt swayed as he paced, the form-fitting leather ending mid-thigh to showcase legs sheathed in intricate black hosiery. The stiletto heels---those glossy black beauties with their distinctive red soles---clicked sharply against what appeared to be marble flooring, though he couldn't quite recall when they'd installed that. The layered gold necklaces and chunky bracelet caught the light with each animated movement.

"I don't understand," Julie stammered, her hands raised in surrender. "Willi, I'm so sorry. I just wanted to help, I thought---"

"Thought what?" He cut her off, running a hand through his hair where it caught on one of his large hoop earrings. "That you could change who I am? I've always dressed like this! This is my style!" He gestured at the provocative ensemble, at the edgy flair that defined everything about him.

But somewhere in the back of his mind, something felt wrong. When had he bought this skirt? He'd had it for years, surely, but the memory wouldn't crystallize.