The grass ain't always greener by Inyoface

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Story notes:

Body Swap fic set in the Beyblade Universe. Does not require previous knowledge of the series. 

Chapter notes:

Disclaimer: This is fanfiction, I don't own the characters or the affiliated universe.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1: Teaser

 

When Max opened his eyes that morning, he believed himself to be having another migraine. This one, he feared, would be a particularly strong one. Colours were bright and appeared to be bursting out of the frame. Amongst these there were some he had never even seen before or ever expected to exist in nature. He found himself in Ray's bedroom but with no recollection how he had gotten there. Another memory glitch. Those only happened with the bad ones. The pain had not set in yet, but that wasn't all that unusual. He knew it was best to get home fast and take his medication.

 

His clothes were nowhere to be found, instead he was wearing one of Ray's pajamas. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to them. Stupid memory glitch. He reasoned that they were most likely in the washer. As he stood up he felt taller than usual. When he looked down on his arms they looked longer too, and the skin on his hands appeared darker and the shade greener. The unusual colour made them look like they weren't even his hands. This migraine was starting to feel more and more like an acid trip. Better get home. He called out to Ray, telling him that he was going to borrow some of his clothes. There was no reply. He was probably out getting groceries. That, or washing his clothes in the building's laundromat. Max tried to piece together a likely timeline. He could still recall the events of the previous evening and going to bed, so most likely he had come over to Ray's place that morning and experienced a sudden migraine attack, puked all over his clothes, then asked to lie down. He looked outside. It was still bright out, but the trippy colours made it hard to tell what time it was. Maybe afternoon.

 

He took a pair of Ray's pants out of his closet and began to undress. That wasn't his underwear! Had he puked all over that as well? How embarrassing. Just like the arms his legs didn't look like his own. They were hairy, and the hair was …black. Was he hallucinating now? It was hard to tell, he felt he was drowning in the gushing colours. They were like background noise. That's why it wasn't until he pulled the pants up the leg that he noticed a pale but wide scar along the ankle, much like the one Ray had, a remnant of the surgery he had needed after injuring himself at the Russian Championship.

 

What the hell?

 

His fingers frantically grabbed his head. There was hair, more hair than he knew himself to have, tied up in a messy bun. He undid the bun and black stands dropped down like a curtain. His heart was racing, this couldn't be. This was impossible. This kind of stuff only happened in clichéd movies. He ran into the bathroom, only to find a familiar yet false reflection looking back at him.

 



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