(no subject)

"It isn't me," I insisted, my face warm and red, as a young woman shoved a magazine in my face and asked me to sign it.

The magazine was the one Elio had done the photoshoot for, the October issue of Darrow News & Review, and for whatever reason, it was like the magazine cover with Elio on it had suddenly resulted in many more people realizing he and I looked alike. Even though we were terribly different in so many ways, our faces were nearly identical and people were taking notice.

"Oh, come on," the young woman says. She's a stranger, I've never met her before, and she rolls her eyes in an expansive way that make mine hurt just thinking about it. "This is obviously you, so just sign it."

"It isn't," I said again, feeling oddly meek. How strange that I could fight pirates and kill them, swim with sharks and keep just out of reach of ferocious mermaids, but I couldn't stand up to this woman who wanted Elio's autograph.

Then, from the corner of my eye, I spotted a familiar face. "Bill!" I called, practically begging. "Bill, please tell her I'm not Elio."