The clock reads around one in the morning when Wes comes near-crashing through the door to the gas station drug store in sheer panic. Still wearing his house robe made of soft, dark blue terrycloth (nothing but a white tee and pair of boxers underneath), the slippers on his feet ruined, drenched in mud, hair slapped across his scalp like that of a man who has been running through the night, glasses crooked on the bridge of his nose -- he stares around, bewildered, before his gaze finally comes to rest on her. It is not quite relief that washes over him, but something of the ilk, as he makes a quick dash for the other side of the counter, where the young lady stands, and cowers behind it.
“Please -- you have help me.” Clearly out of breath and out of shape, round little tummy bulging under the sweat-drenched fabric of his shirt, he whispers from his hiding place behind the counter, “There’s a man coming after me -- he -- he won’t hurt you -- but you can’t let him know I’m here. Please -- if you don’t he’ll --”
Just then, the door opens a second time, and the man cowering behind the counter falls silent and holds his labored breath, as though that alone might give him in; placing a hand over his own mouth and trying to curl into the smallest ball possible, to shrink himself. The person who walks through the door is...
... the exact same man. An identical twin. Mind, this one does not seem panicked, but rather calm; the exact same pair of glasses perfectly balanced in their place, sand-colored hair neat and tidy. Unlike his twin he is, at least, fully dressed -- sporting jeans (their knees stained with mud), a fleece jacket (elbows also stained) and a pair of sneakers. He allows his gaze to wander carefully across the little store before eventually coming to rest, just as it had mere seconds ago, on the young woman behind the counter.
“Excuse me,” he begins, offering a small smile, mostly devoid of actual humor and entirely polite (Christ, they even sound the same), “have you seen a madman running around in his underwear?”
