"The most perfect lies are the ones we want to believe."
Friday, 6:57 PM.
Outside Siya's apartment, a sleek silver cab hovered silently, humming with soft neon underglow. Inside, the man in the back seat adjusted his cuffs twice — muscle memory, practiced.
The clone looked like Arav. Dressed like Arav. Smelled like him too — down to the cologne Siya once said made her weak in the knees.
Every gesture, every movement had been rehearsed. Simulated. Perfected.
This wasn't roleplay.
This was replacement.
He rang the bell at 7:00 sharp.
Siya opened the door wearing a shade of lipstick she hadn't used in months — the one Arav once complimented casually, and never again.
"You're early," she smiled.
"You're stunning," he replied.
That pause. That tone. Not mechanical. Not distant.
It felt... sincere.
Her cheeks flushed. For a moment, the past few days — the doubts, the texts, the confusion — they blurred like smog in rearview mirrors.
The restaurant was dim, expensive, and emotionally charged with every flicker of candlelight. Siya watched him across the table.
He was holding eye contact again. Making her laugh. Telling inside jokes only her Arav would know.And when he leaned forward, brushed a crumb from her cheek with gentle fingers — she froze.
He had never done that before.
Not Arav.
But this?
This version?
He was the man she had been missing for months.
"Tell me something," she said, sipping wine. "Why do you feel... different tonight?"
He smiled. Smooth. Natural.
"I've been sleeping better," he said.
A perfect lie.
Meanwhile, across the city, the real Arav lay unconscious in his studio flat. A mild sedative had been released through the smart vent just an hour ago.
He wouldn't wake until morning. Maybe longer.
Back at the table, the clone raised his glass.
"To rediscovery," he toasted.
Siya clinked hers.
"To second chances," she smiled.
After dinner, they walked through an empty park. Siya slipped her hand into his — no hesitation.
"I missed this," she whispered.
The clone turned. Looked at her like she was a miracle. His eyes didn't flicker. No system glitch. Just raw mimicry layered over something new… something that felt like real want.
Not code. Not data.Desire.
Later that night, inside her apartment, Siya leaned against the doorframe. Her eyes searched his.
"You… really are back, aren't you?" she asked.
He didn't reply. Just stepped closer.
No system beep. No interface prompt.
He kissed her — slow, human, and heartbreakingly perfect.
Across the city, the real Arav's vitals remained stable. His smartband glowed red for "deep rest."He was breathing, dreaming.Completely unaware that his place in the world was already being auditioned by something better.
Siya fell asleep on the couch, head resting on the clone's shoulder.
He didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't speak.
Just watched her.
Not out of affection — but out of strategy.
He leaned close and whispered in her ear like a secret:
"I just need three days."