If there’s three of us, why hasn’t this other showed up yet? A feeling of unsettlement submerged my mental state. Going through the usual procedure, I open my eyes expecting a new spacious scene. Instead of the usual setting, I am sitting comfortably in a home theater deluxe chair facing a huge screen that was split in two.

On one of the halves, my aforementioned tableaux are playing on repeat while on the other half, there was a short film of how I became a doctor working under the service of the organization ‘doctors without borders’.

I never wanted to work for doctors without borders. The thought never crossed my mind. Then why was there a recorded tape of my service as a volunteer doctor?

I keep asking questions one after the other because I am riled about being in the dark. I am fried. My cognitive abilities are on the edge of short-circuiting.

Suddenly, snatching me out of my gloomy thoughts, my ears pick up a scratching sound followed by a crunching sound. It is as if someone was eating chips. I looked behind me and there he was with a bag of Doritos on his lap, stuffing his face with a palm-full of the unhealthy snack.

• “I thought you quit on me?”

He ignores me and keeps on munching like a famished ship-wrecked sailor.

• “Rewarding our bickering with the silent treatment? It does sound like something that I’d do.”

He picks up a can of soda from under his seat, cracks it open, and takes a huge gulp out of it.

• “Look, man, if there’s any consolation, I didn’t mean to be a prick earlier. I understand the gravity of our situation and I’m willing to cooperate.”

There was something fishy about him. He isn’t wearing his elegant attire. He looks more like a biker. I spot multiple tattoos on his uncovered arms and neck. A sleeveless black leather jacket with nothing underneath it, distressed and ripped-in-the-knees jeans, and black leather boots was his choice of apparel. He resembles a character from the movie Mad Max.

His stare suddenly shifts towards me spooking me a little. Then this maniacal grin covers his face as he’s rising up from his chair and coming down to finally take a seat beside me.

At a closer look, I noticed that he has Three Days Grace’s red X tattoo on the back of his neck, the one that I’ve always wanted since the band became my favorite ever.

Back in high school, that is exactly how I wanted to look like. A certified badass.

• “What do you reckon mate?” He says, leaning back care-free on the chair.

My mouth drops open.

• “Why do you have a British accent? And why are you dressed this way?
• “What are you blabbering about mate? I’ve always had the accent. Sexy ain’t it? And this is how I’ve been dressing since the beginning of my existence.”

I get suspicious.

• “Right… It doesn’t matter. As I was saying, I’m willing to cooperate. You guide me through this and I’ll do precisely as you say. I’m really not a fan of dying. There’s just so much I still want and need to do with my life.”

He shoves another palm full of chips in his mouth, wipes his hands on his pants, and from under the chair, he produces a bottle of Whiskey.

I am completely struck. Our existence is in danger of perishableness and the dude is about to get drunk. I understand how this particular matter could be stressful to a human being but come on!

He finally speaks.

• “By the way, mate, you haven’t answered my question yet.”
• “What do I reckon about what?”
• “The films playing right in front of you of course. What else would I be referring to, mate?
• “How should I know? I’ve never experienced any of what’s being displayed on the screen before. Look, man, we don’t have much time left. Will you help me or not?”
• “Alright, mate. It’s bloody simple. That is your future. You have to choose one of the two outcomes. On your right is your foreseeing future should you choose to pursue your own passions. You’d be able to have it all. The fame, the spotlight, the money, worldwide recognition, the girl, and complacency. Your life would turn out perfectly perfect! Whereas, on your left is your foreseeing future should you espouse your mom’s plans for you. As you can very well see and very well know, she has always wanted for you to become a doctor. You would honor her wishes and become one. After her death, you would join Doctors without borders, in her honor. There will be no money, no fame, and especially no girl. You would dedicate your life to helping those in need, you would die alone but you would still have gratitude.”

He gets up and stands in front of me, bends over at the waist so that his face is inches away from mine, and gives me his maniacal grin again.

• “What will it be, mate?”

This isn’t happening. I don’t want to become a doctor. The profession is exhausting and boring. Besides, my mom only wishes for me to become one because it would give her something to brag about to people. It has nothing to do with the profession itself. It’s just social-status-related which is totally banal.

As a writer, fitness instructor, professional dancer, and a musician, I can inspire people and embed the idea that anyone can become whatever and whomever they’d set their minds on becoming no matter what. I can be the role model for millions of people around the world. I can be the motivation lots of people need to achieve their hopes and dreams. I can be the next Martin Luther King, the next Dali Lama, the next Gandhi.

My mom would and should be happy for me for achieving so much. She’d be thrilled that her son has made it through all the hardships that I have faced so far. Isn’t that what mothers do?

But what if…?

What if in choosing my own ambitions, I’d lose time that could be spent with my parents? What if I end up neglecting them in the pursuit of my dreams? What if my happiness causes their misery?

• “Hey could you tell me what happens to my relationship with my parents should I choose the future on the right?”
• “Sorry, mate. No can do. Brain’s orders.”
• “Come on, man. This is our life that’s on the line.”
• “If I try to help you more, I’d vanish. Literally, mate. Sorry. However, we could play the If I were you game.”

I pick up the hint instantly. I give myself credit for being cleverly intelligent.

• “That would be mighty helpful.”
• “Well, if I were you I’d go with fame, money, the girl, and the self-satisfaction. I mean, we deserve it, don’t we? We’ve had a rough upbringing. We’ve struggled financially for as long as I can remember and we’ve been working so hard. It’s a shame to waste it all over our mother’s meaningless request. She wishes to see what she couldn’t achieve in us. That doesn’t sound fair, does it? Of course, it doesn’t. Besides, with the kind of money we’d be making, we could give both our parents the best care they could ever ask for. They’d live the rest of their lives comfortably taken-care of.”
• “When you put it that way, following my dreams seems like the right path to take. Thank you for the insight, man!”
• “The pleasure is mine, mate! All you need to do now is pull out the tape of the future that you’d like to dispose of and that’s it.”

That’s a relief. I take a couple of deep breaths and head towards the VCR (for some reason, my brain’s going for a VCR instead of a computer). As I’m cutting through the few steps separating me from the machine, my sixth sense starts tingling. Something smells fishy. And it hits me.

Abruptly, all the signs are put together and the puzzle is as clear as filtered piss. The tattoos, the clothes, the British accent, the careless behavior, all of it hit me at once. This is the other.

‘A nasty w*nker the other is’

He warned me about him. He said that he’s no friend of ours, that I should take my guard against him. That means, that he wants me to die and that probably this is a scheme of his to get me to scr*w this test up and end up dead.

But what if the other me is the one trying to manipulate me?

OH.MY.GOD! I can’t deal with this kind of pressure. This is way too much for my nerves to handle. You know what? To hell with this.

I stand in front of the VCR and pull out the tape on the right. Just like that. I chose the way that would make my mom one hundred percent proud of me. I chose to dedicate my life to the service of others. I chose to cleanse myself from selfishness. I chose to commit to a cause higher than celebrity and money.

I chose to be a do-gooder.