Noodle was lounging in the living room in sports bra and shorts, fanning herself with a pamphlet of a nearby tourist spot and unsticking her back from the couch. Ace was the only one seemingly unbothered by the heat, fully dressed and alternating between finding their suffering funny or feeling pity for them.

That had been hours ago, though, and now under the dying light of the sun, freshly showered with hair still damp, 2D sits by the fire outside, plucking at the strings as Russel goes back inside to tend to dinner and Ace takes his turn in the bathroom. The summer heat isn’t as oppressing anymore and the growing flames don’t really bother him, flickering and dancing as they spread around the pile of wood. Noodle doesn’t say anything when she sits by his side, putting away her acoustic guitar for a moment to snap a picture of the sunset before joining him.

She follows his pace easily, predicting the notes and together they play some nameless song. “2D,” she says later when they stop to flex their fingers. “What do you think of doing a live? We don’t have to say anything, just let our followers appreciate the music and scenery.”

“Sounds fun,” he agrees with a shrug and easy smile, and two minutes later Ace becomes their camera man.

Ace does speak with the followers, gives them a brief intro, and the duo only acknowledges the camera with a nod and wave and go back to playing some of their own songs. Russel comes back to set the table and Ace is there, filming the food and letting the drummer proudly describe his personal recipe of summer salad to the sound of Slow Country.

It’s easy to tune them out as they sit side by side on stools and soon 2D is singing, the lyrics of Don’t Get Lost in Heaven and Demon Days being carried by the wind, making blades of grass sway and blowing away harmless embers. Their eyes meet and they smile at each other, fingers moving deftly and transitioning to another song, the familiar vibe of their third album sounding in the air around them.

Empire Ants comes and goes, leaving shivers on their skin in its wake, Noodle filling in for Yukimi as she’s done sometimes in the privacy of their home. On Melancholy Hill takes the breath away from their lungs and forms knots in their throats, they choke on the words and give up on singing, Ace recording everything from the other side of the campfire where he’s drinking his beer. Noodle doesn’t join 2D as he sings broken, content to play and watch his mouth move around the words, his throat work to get the notes in the right pitch.

Russel stops them for a moment, shoves bottles of water in their hands and tells them to take care of their vocal chords. Some sips of water and a quiet conversation later, they move on to To Binge and this - oh, this is how 2D wishes they could have rehearsed this song years ago, him and Noodle together sitting on the shores of Plastic Beach, backs turned to the clutter of trash, facing the sea and the sparkling water and the sun dipping into it, turning everything red and yellow and the shades in between.

It’s easy to get lost in her eyes, too, as they look at one another and sing this duet, fingers moving with practiced ease over the strings, the melody cradling them. Noodle looks at him with so much love in her eyes that he doesn’t need to hear her say the words to assure him, but they sound wonderful in her voice, whispered in dimly lit rooms when they’re curled together, brushing fingers over exposed skin.

“There they go,” he hears Ace say, distantly, in that half-dismayed voice of his, setting the phone down on the table, held upright by one of Russel’s dishes. “In their own little world again.”

A good world it is. He doesn’t know when the band will have a break again and until then, until he and Noodle are free for a while to travel and do as they want together, all they can do is ignore everything else in moments like this, forget the rest for blissful minutes and pretend it’s only them, them and their music and their love, young but strong and blooming, growing with each passing day. 2D can write endless songs about her, about what they share and how he feels, enough songs that he can release a new album and its B-side by the end of the year. She makes him want to try his hand at drawing, so he can capture her smile with his own fingers, but he settles for a picture and kisses instead.

To Binge is over. Russel ends the stream before they can as much as put down their acoustic guitars, not that 2D is paying attention to any of it, too engaged in the silent conversation he’s having with Noodle. The flames dance in her eyes, skin aglow, cheek warm when his hand touches it, thumb brushing over a cheekbone, fingers curling on her hair and pulling her closer. He can almost feel the phantom sensation of cold metal on his skin, gold glinting under the stars, but the band is carefully kept in his bedroom, waiting for the right time.

The kiss is soft, chaste, a simple press of the lips that is enough to convey what he feels. She smiles into it, hand at the base of his neck, palm over his beating heart, fingertips tracing collarbones. He pulls away, lids parting open, lips curling into a smile of his own. With a last peck they separate fully, stand and walk back to the cabin to place their guitar away, pinkies interlaced in the space between their bodies.

She motions to the two people standing between her and 2D. “All the wigs and extensions for the photoshoot were horribly itchy and I got Rice to help me.”

Ace nods his head, slowly, but he still looks as disbelieving as he did five minutes ago. “Who is she again?”

“She’s me from another dimension.” Rice nods, unphased by his scepticism and the alternate dimension she’s in, pale pink hair falling over her shoulders to brush her ribs. .

“And who is he?” He points at the third man in the room, a carbon copy of 2D but with jungle green hair and good hairstyle. “From another dimension too?”

The man in question nods. “Yep. Wasn’t about to let her come over here by herself.”

Ace sighs, throws his head back and pinches the bridge of his sharp nose. “Okay - You know what? Just - Just get dressed. I’ll find Russel and explain what’s going on. Try to.” He looks at them again with furrowed brows, grimaces and takes his leave.

Noodle would sit them both down and explain the mechanisms behind opening a portal to another dimension to snatch away your counterpart and eventually tell them how they met in the first place, but the photoshoot is scheduled to begin in less than two hours and Rice isn’t ready for it yet. She grabs a box of hair dye from the shelf and takes the both of them to the nearest bathroom, instructing 2D and 2E to behave and try not to attract too much attention. Ace wasn’t supposed to know what they were doing until he entered the dressing room looking for his glasses.

Rice sits on the closed toilet lid and waits as Noodle clips up her long hair and slips on plastic, disposable gloves. She agreed to letting her dye her hair, though the job is going to be rushed and sloppy due to lack of materials and short time, but the staff can later retouch digitally any strands of hair that remain pastel pink.

By the time Noodle is done applying the dye, Rice is lightly scratching portions of her scalp with a comb, sticky hair twisted to the top of her head, worn out towel draped over her shoulders. Noodle peels the gloves away and tossed them into the trash, scrubbing her hands under the cold water of the faucet.

“Who was that man?” Rice asks as Noodle dries her hands. “Is he supposed to be Modell’s counterpart?”

Noodle shakes her head. “Murdoc’s in jail. That’s a replacement.”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows - damn, she forgot to dye her eyebrows - pinch. “It baffles me that Modell isn’t a sweetheart in this universe.”

“Well, your Russel is a buff gym rat, so.” Noodle shrugs, spreading dye over the brows. “There gotta be differences.”

“Like how 2E and I have been in a relationship for years, yet you and 2D dance around each other for just as long?”

Noodle groans and shoves her lightly on the arm. “Stop it. I told you, he’s not interested.”

Rice rolls her eyes, but lets Noodle drop the topic and she’s glad for it. Noodle busies herself with painting Rice’s toenails as they wait for the timer to go off.

Ace is back in the dressing room, watching from the sidelines as 2D and 2E chat like old friends. Russel wasn’t at all surprised to hear about counterparts from another universe, an alternate timeline or whatever, and it doesn’t settle well with Ace that he wasn’t told about this. It’s true that he’s been around for a handful of months, but they should have told him earlier about something of this… Magnitude. He’s seen a lot of weird stuff in his life, and surprisingly he has a lot of questions regarding this mess and portals between dimensions.

“So, uh…” 2E looks at him from where he’s sprawled on the couch, sipping soda from a straw. “How did you become famous?”

“Our first single went viral when we released the music video.” A loud slurping sound fills the room as he reaches the end of his drink and places the can away. “Three whole minutes of me singing in the shower using a bottle of shampoo as mic with Rice’s flowery shower cap on my head. Damn Tuss record me.”

Honestly, Ace doesn’t know if that’s better or worse than gorilla zombies, nor does he know who this Tuss is, but that’s an interesting story to say the least. “Is your name Stuart, too?”

“Nah, man, it’s Gilbert.”

Ace can’t smother his snort soon enough and lifts a placating hand once he finds himself on the other end of 2E’s glare. “Sorry. Are you really counterparts? Like, how does it work? Are you the same people?”

A knock on the door has 2D up and hurrying outside before anyone can enter and see him there. He leaves with a rushed goodbye, closing the door a little too loudly behind his back, making them flinch. Ace really needs to go, too, but he wants to hear more about this.

2E sits up on the couch, leans forward slightly. “Not really the same people. We are different. We have different pasts, appearances, personalities and tastes, but our worlds align pretty well, you see. Most of the things that happened there have happened here, the other way around works too.”

“That’s… Intriguing.” Ace wrings his hands between his legs anxiously, shifts his gaze towards the door, running out of time. “How - how is my counterpart like?”

The man across him stills, clamps his mouth shut and leans back to the worn-out cushions of the couch. “I have to admit, Ace.” 2E says, voice low, fingers curled inwards. “I haven’t met your counterpart yet.”

Ace ducks his head, frowns at the brown carpet, voices whispering in his mind things he’s tried to keep away for too long.

He should have known.

“Well - uh - our world is much - much nicer!” 2E scrambles to add, fidgeting where he sits. “We probably haven’t met you yet, but I can see it already. A band of five! Pretty cool, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” he says, but it doesn’t sound convincing to his own ears, and he’s already moving towards the door without realizing. “Pretty cool.”

Really, he should have.

The photoshoot distracts him enough from his insecurities, his poses and grins natural enough that the photographer doesn’t need to call him out too much. No one suspects Noodle is actually hiding in the back of the room with 2E, both dressed in horrible disguises complete with hats and sunglasses, and that there’s actually an imposter in her place, but after the fiasco with Cyborg Noodle a few years back, he thinks they’re used to having someone else in her place.

Rice acts exactly like Noodle. There’s not a single flaw in her charade, her speech is perfect down to the slight accent she still has, though she does move a little more elegantly. Noodle has too much energy in her body, but that’s something only someone that’s been living with her for weeks could pick up on. He tries not to think too much about their similarities as both Rice and 2D are pulled aside by the photographer and arranged into specific poses like two mannequins.

By the end of it, Rice disappears and Noodle takes her place, smiling brightly and walking around with her usual skip on her steps. No one notices anything.

Ace sets aside his bass and walks away from the group, scrubbing his face on the way to the restroom, hoping washing his face will be enough to wash away most of his sour mood. He stops midstep when a clang sounds from within a darkened corner, followed by shushing sounds and muffled giggles. An eyebrow twitches. Really. Who in their right mind is making out in the studio?

Someday he’ll learn to mind his own business. He’s trying, but sometimes curiosity is stronger than him. Years in the Gangreen Gang have made him light on his feet when necessary, so he inches closer and peers into the darkness from behind a stack of boxes.

“You really like the blue hair, don’t you?” He knows this voice, now low and… Sultry. “With his black eyes. Really mysterious, wouldn’t you say?”

His eyes adjust to the darkness, two bodies tangled together, a smaller frame pressed into the wall, hand combing through the other’s hair. “It fits,” a feminine whisper, cut short as the taller figure sweeps down in a searing kiss.

Oh.

This is new.

Ace backs away, leaves them to enjoy this moment.

In the living room of their home, Noodle cuts open thin air, earing like a ripped seam, revealing the glowing edges of a portal that shimmers and swirls until the other side takes shape. Two figures, a young man with neatly combed hair, dressed in a button up and tie. A taller one, muscular, his biceps easily the size of Ace’s head, snapback turned backwards.  

2E climbs through easily, waiting for Rice to turn around from her hug with Noodle, waving them all goodbye and she too begins to leave, her hand taking the singer’s easily and he begins to lift her up.

“Took you fucking long enough.”

“Welcome back!”

They turn around, the young man launches himself in their direction, skinny arms wrapping around her waist. Murdoc’s counterpart, he realizes, is a nice person that’s loved by his friends, everything Ace has wanted to be.  

Then Ace blinks, Rice's fluttering hair the last thing he sees of them, and the portal closes.

They walk to the kitchen, Ace sticking to the back, eyes glued on 2D and Noodle, both flinching when their hands brush, their skin flushing under the yellow lights, Russel dialing the number of their usual pizza delivery.

Later, he'll think about his bandmates, now able to see the signs he couldn't see before between 2D and Noodle, their counters' kiss flashing.

And he'll think, when he's lying in bed, wondering who his other self is and how they are. His eyelids growing heavy as the words the other singer said float by.

“-our worlds align pretty well, you see. Most of the things that happened there have happened here, the other way around works too.”

Dreaming of his other self and that they are happy, Ace sleeps.

“A band of five! Pretty cool, don’t you think?”