I woke up to find Lola in my bed. My heart pounded hard in my chest as I instinctively reached for my face, where Cala's scar used to be, but there was nothing there, just the soft skin and my brow running smoothly over the temple bone, no deep scar dividing it. It took me a moment to register that. I breathed a sigh of relief and looked around. I was in my body, in my pajamas, in my bed. Why did I think this was anything out of the ordinary?

“Mmmmmmh!”

Lola stretched and turned over, making a contented sound. Everything appeared normal, like any other morning after we'd come home from a party and talked until we fell asleep. We'd done that many times over. But why couldn't I remember the last party? Instead, I recalled strange memories of being Cala, possessing superhuman strength, and singing in a successful band. I checked for other scars, but there was no trace on my neck or chest. Did I dream all of that, or was it real? Did I truly heal those soldiers and get captured by the army?

Was any of it real, or was my imagination just playing tricks on me? Was I going insane? I took a deep breath and looked around, searching for any clues to help me assess my reality. As I stirred, Lola stretched again, and her head popped up, a satisfied smile on her face. Her satin pajamas hugged her beautiful curves as she leaned over me.

"Good morning, Dol! Finally awake?!" she exclaimed, shaking me. "Now, tell me everything!"

I stared back at her, unsure of what to say. My mind felt foggy, and I couldn't quite grasp what she expected of me.

"Tell you what?" I asked dumbly.

She furrowed her brows and pouted. She looks sweet when she does that, and it always works with Tim, her boyfriend. I abstained from rolling my eyes and only mentioned:

"I need a coffee!"

She looked at me suspiciously, but I got up from the bed, put on my slippers, and headed to the kitchen, trying to postpone the inevitable: having to confess that I had no clue what I really did last night.

As I walked down the hallway, I tried to gather my thoughts and make sense of what had happened. Had it all been a dream? But it all felt so real. I remembered everything so vividly, but it was so surreal and strange!. It was overwhelming, and I couldn't think straight.

I started the coffee maker and leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the wall. What was happening to me? Was I losing my mind? Or was there something more to it? The memories felt too vivid to be just a dream, but at the same time, they were so fantastical that I couldn't believe they were real.

Lola came into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes and looking sleepy but still beautiful. She came up to me and wrapped her arms around me from behind, resting her chin on my shoulder.

"What's wrong, Dol? You look like you've seen a ghost," she said softly.

"I...I don't know," I muttered. "It's just...I can't remember everything that happened last night. It's all a blur."

Lola looked at me with concern in her eyes. "That's not good. How do you feel now?"

I shook my head. "I feel OK," - I shrugged - "Well, like I did many times after our parties."

Lola giggled, understanding. "Okay. I'm here for you; we'll deal with the mess together!"

I gave her a small smile and turned to her, embracing her tightly. "Thank you, Lola. I appreciate that."

Her warm embrace felt good and comforting.

We sat at the table, each with a coffee in hand, and gazed at each other. Her piercing blue eyes were fixed on mine, searching for answers.

"So, do you remember where the party was?" she asked.

I shrugged and replied bluntly, "No."

I glanced at my coffee cup, fearing the onset of a migraine. If this coffee machine ever breaks down, I'll be doomed to a life of sloth. The warm black liquid swirling inside the cup gave me a comforting sensation. Taking a sip of coffee, I shrugged again. I couldn't reveal anything about my fantasies. We had already gone through the tattoo panic; I didn't need another one.

Speaking of the tattoo panic, hopefully, I remembered that one correctly! I made a mental note to verify it later. She raised her brows, expecting more from me than just a blunt no.

I sighed. "I'm sorry, I don't remember anything," I said.

She burst into laughter. "What? You must be kidding me!"

I put my head in my hands and rubbed my temples. My voice unsure, I asked, "What day is it today?"

She stopped laughing and watched me with a pitiful expression. "Thursday," she replied.

I looked at the clock. It was eight-thirty in the morning. "And we're not going to school because?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Because it's a holiday! Today is a school-free day."

As she said that, she moved her hands too feverishly and spilled some coffee over the fresh tablecloth, but I tried to ignore that and focus on the situation at hand. "Uh-oh. So how many days have I been gone?"

"Last time I saw you was on Sunday morning and..."

As she replied, a song on the radio caught my attention. It felt like a hammer had hit my head, blowing away all other thoughts: It was my song. I recognized every note, even the background noise. It was from our second performance at Stavros. It was perfect, and even the background noise fit somehow into the song. My heartbeats accelerated as I tried to reconcile the song with my memory of me singing that song. That divine voice that I was hearing, was it mine?

I couldn't just ask that directly, so I wondered, "Who are they?"

Lola laughed, realizing that I hadn't been paying attention. "You have the attention span of a goldfish! The band is called Fata Morgana; they're new around here."

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My eyes fluttered in surprise.

"Fata Morgana?" I asked, still trying to shake off the haze in my mind.

OK, the band exists; that's a primer! What else is accurate from what I remember about them? To my luck, she continued her talk enthusiastically:

"Yeah, it's a bit of a silly name, but they're really good. And get this: Matt's in the band!"

"Matt?" I asked, surprised. This is now the second point I remember correctly, but how could that fit with me being the band's singer?

"That's right, our Matt," Lola replied, clearly thrilled about the news. "Remember how you used to ignore him all the time? Well, now it's too late."

"I ignored him?" I asked, feeling confused. This didn't fit with my memory of things.

Lola laughed again. "Wow, you're really out of it, girl. Do you remember Joe and The Blue Cauldron concert? You dressed yourself up in that ravishing red dress and met Joe outside, not far from the school's entry. It just so happened that Matt's hours ended at about that time, and he was picked up by his mother not far away from you. His face, when he saw you two kissing there, was priceless."

"Oh, shit. Did he see us?"

Lola laughed again. "Yes, he did see you. You really don't seem to be very aware of your surroundings, do you?"

I gulped. Well, at least now I knew that the Blue Cauldron concert was real, and I was there with Joe.

I sighed. "The last two weeks are a blur for me..."

I put my hands over my face. What parts are genuine or just fantasy, from what I remember? I thought my going with Joe to the concert was just a fantasy: Joe was my dream boyfriend for years, so how did I really manage to go with him?

Lola let out a sigh. "Well, I'm afraid I can't be of much help, Dol, honey. You've been ignoring me most of the time for the past two weeks. What I do know is that you came back from the Blue Cauldron concert with someone, and I initially thought it was Joe. But it turns out I made a mistake," she said, looking guilty. "I tried to tease him the next day by asking why he didn't stay for breakfast, but he looked at me like I was crazy. So, it must have been someone else."

"Oh!" I gasped, my eyes widening in shock, but she continued without giving me time to say anything.

“I was so happy that you escaped unharmed from that damn concert, with all those people trampled in that catastrophic riots at the end! You did not tell us what happened!? Frankly speaking, you've been very secretive the last few days. Well, I've seen you once with an auto-mechanic and then with Daniel and Helen and their gang. That's about all I know; you behaved a bit like a stranger. Last Sunday, you told me you'll go to a party. I was happy for you and expected now to hear how it was."

Uh, oh. She seems a bit upset about that.

“Did Mom call?” I asked urgently, suddenly realizing that I may have bigger problems.

“Yes, she called on Monday, and I had to assure her that you were okay because you had mentioned going to a party on Sunday and might not be back until morning. But do you realize what you've put me through? That was four days ago, and you still won't tell me where you've been!” Lola scolded.

I searched for my phone but then remembered leaving it with Matt.

"I need to take a shower," I said, trying to steady myself as I stood up.

Lola laughed and said, "I'll make breakfast. It's just the two of us today; Clara's on a trip with her colleagues. How many eggs should I put for you?"

I thought of Cala and her insatiable appetite for eggs. "Three?" I suggested.

Lola raised an eyebrow. "Hungry today, are we?"

No, but Cala eats at least six, so I should be able to handle three.

As I went under the shower, I tried to sing that song. I know it very well. Lola came into the bathroom to wash her face. She snickered:

“It's a real earworm, isn't it; but gosh, you sing so false, honey! I love you, but you'll cause it to rain if you continue singing!”

After my shower, I got dressed and sat down at the kitchen table. Lola had made a delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, and vegetables. I ate slowly, lost in thought but could not go half through my eggs. I think my liver would go bust if I'd force it. I am not Cala. What was real from what I remember?

Lola looked at me with concern. "Are you okay, Dol?"

Instead of answering her, I asked. “You know who the singer from Matt's band is?”

She raised a brow, surprised by my question but then shook her head.

“No. Imagine some guys asked if it was you!”

She laughed heartily, and I joined her.

I'm not the singer, then? But why do I have this ridiculous idea in my head? I'll need to go see Matt and try to get my phone back from him, assuming he really has it. Will he even talk to me? What should I say to him?

"Why would they think it was me?" I asked.

"That's a great question. Nobody knows who the singer is except for Matt and his band."

"But didn't they perform in public? At Stavros, I mean."

I hesitated to mention the restaurant, but I decided to give it a try.

"Yes, they did, but she wore a mask."

So the Fata Morgana band performed at Stavros. How did I get the idea that I was the singer? Perhaps I had some involvement with the band and accompanied them in some way.

"Can you tell me if there was some...incident with Bounty County last Sunday?" I asked, struggling to find the right word.

"Ah, so your memory is coming back, huh? Yes, there was a huge uproar on social media. Stories of war and wounded soldiers, and even a tale of a miracle healer at Saint Ana hospital. But can you believe it? It was all fake."

"Fake?" I asked, confused.

"Yes, fake. There were conflicting reports, but the official explanation is that the terrorists released hallucinogenic gases and then launched a media campaign on social media."

"But how could hallucinogenic gases create fake video recordings?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Those crazy lunatics made the fake videos. It's not that hard to do."

She looked at me and said, "You don't look well. You've really done it this time. Look, I can't keep lying to your mother. It's not fair to her or to you. I would have told her the truth if she had called me yesterday. I would have said that you've been missing since Sunday. How could I ever face her again if something had happened to you? I understand covering for you for one night, but several days in a row is too much. Please don't take those drugs. Just look at yourself - you don't remember anything. Who knows what else might have happened that you can't recall."

That hit me hard. I sighed, walked back to my room, then lay on my bed and looked up at the ceiling. I needed to sort out my thoughts. What was real, and what was just my imagination? I don't use drugs or drink. I don't even smoke, so how could I explain the fantasies in my head? Had someone slipped something into my drink? I doubted it, but what else could it be?

Maybe the simplest explanation was that I was going insane. I pondered that for a moment and closed my eyes, my heart beating, accelerating. Fuck, that's a pretty shitty thing; how could this happen to me?

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

For now, I seemed to be fine - no hallucinations, no voices in my head, no dreams of having superpowers. Maybe there is still hope? Should I see a doctor? It might be the best option, but then I would be labeled as crazy for the rest of my life. Maybe I should try to assess my own mental state first. Did I do anything too extreme? Lola didn't think I was crazy, so maybe I was just overthinking things. It was perhaps a temporary blunder.

I decided to act inconspicuously and wait for more clues to come to me. What was the last thing I could remember? Chasing harpies and drinking the youth elixir - that was obviously not true.