My eyes opened wide open. I felt like screaming, but didn't.

Which would easily classified as odd. Why wouldn't I scream after a dream about reaching out for my mother?

I closed my eyes, feeling like I was still dreaming. Mama's voice rang loud and clear in my head: Trovala. Trovatelo. Trova la mia famiglia perduta.

What lost family?

I wanted to think about it; but my family could be what she meant. "Him" could be Hades; not too hard to find, and "Her" might mean Bianca; maybe her reincarnation, which would be impossible. What if she came back to earth as a mannequin in Santa Barbara?

So I opened my eyes. No need thinking of things so trivial.

What my eyes saw, for example? That was definitely not trivial.

Sometime back in school, thus over fifty years ago, our teacher made us read Alice in Wonderland. My favourite part was when the Red Queen got angry about her roses. Chi ha dipinto le mie rose di rosso? Chi ha dipinto le mie rose di rosso?

Now I could totally relate to that anger. Except now it was my room. I would've said Che ha dipinto i miei vestiti di rosso? Che ha dipinto di rosso la mia stanza?

Instead I said, 'Connor Stolll!'

I stomped out of bed. If summoning the ghost of Beethoven didn't scare him the first time he told me to brighten up, maybe my look of death would.

But wait; I couldn't threaten him without my sword.

I threw my pretty pink pillow on the ground and saw…a cell phone?

Oh no. It wasn't a cell phone. The second I thought it was a cell phone it became a ringing cell phone.

The person calling was some guy named MightyNate plus a zillion heart emojis of different colours. They were asking for a video chat.

Video chat?

Cell phone?

Red Room?

Heart emojis?

No time for stomping. Time to shadow-scare that figlio della stronzo into Asphodel. I wouldn't dare let my boyfriend go through the enormity of touching that idiot.

I imagined the door to Cabin Eleven, them Connor Stoll's face.

That's right. I wanted to land right on his face. Them sleep on it. That should teach him.

After what felt like forever, I didn't feel the familiar cold, or the fatigue seeping into my bones. And when I opened my eyes I was still in the very red room.

And the dammed phone was still asking for a video chat.

Frowning, I declined. It was definitely Connor, so that was the least I could do while I thought of what was wrong with my powers.

My eyes widened. Did Will's lock-power pill actually work?

'Marcus,'

Instinctively, I startled. One: I didn't know that voice. Two: even someone outside the cabin didn't sound that close.

Had there been a breach of defences? Was that a monster? The voice sounded way too human. Maybe a Cyclops.

'Marcus, get your butt here now.'

'Show yourself,' I hollered.

Wait; that wasn't my voice.

'Marc Jacobs Anciel; you better not make me come up there.'

'I'm not coming, figlio di cane!' I concluded it was Travis with his voice changer. I also figured that my weird, half am octave high voice was from the silent paint fumes from the new room colour. 'Your fault, your punishment.'

Next I heard someone climbing the stairs. When in Hades did Hades Cabin get stairs?

A boy I'd never seen before—and wouldn't think up with an Imperial Golden sword to my head—came in. He had really red hair. Like, really red. It almost matched my new walls. If he could make it a buzzcut or a flattop, he would've blended as an Ares Cabiner. But no; his hair was so long it covered his eyebrows and one of his eyes. Sherman Yang would've helped the boy buzzcut it to make the cape he'd always wanted.

But he was kind of cute. So what if he crossed his arms; his pout was adorable!

'You're not even dressed yet, and you're blaming me for things I didn't do?' Redhead exploded. 'You told me yourself it takes you thirty minutes to properly shower, five to pick your clothes, and maybe ten for your makeup.'

I frowned. 'Come again? Not even Aphrodite kids take thirty minutes to shower.' I smelled my armpits. 'I don't stink that bad.'

'So you can go without showering? You're really, really, really late for school..'

My blood cooled. 'School?'

'Yes, school.' Redhead looked at me like the moron I was. Will would've called me dense. 'I know this akumatized kid made everyone kind of drowsy just a few hours ago, but school's on now. It's twelve in the afternoon.'

'Twelve?!' Even my normal voice would've changed. 'I didn't shadow travel yesterday. Why didn't Will wake me? I'll show him.'

'Who's Will?' Redhead shook his, well, head. 'I guess you slept too much. Since you're not showering, I'll get your clothes while you wash your face and start with your foundation.'

'Foundation? I'm not building a house.' I said.

'Building a house takes less time.' Redhead muttered. 'Off you go, or is dragging you to the bathroom faster?'

I headed for what I thought was the bathroom.

It was actually a walk-in closet.

Somehow, Travis and Connor had built a compartment in my room that had clothes in every shade of red and pink imaginable. Granted, most of the jeans were dull blue to even black; but the tops, hoodies, and pj's were appalling. Almost all of them had something to do with a rainbow.

'Did I just walk into Iris cabin?'

I found another door. Maybe Butch Walker would be there to explain things..

But nope; I'd finally found the bathroom.

Great. Now I'm in Poseidon cabin. My bathroom wasn't baby blue, nor did it have a whole bathtub.

My bathroom definitely didn't have a mirror. It was the one thing I didn't mind my interior decorators—who thought Hades' kids were vampires—leaving out.

And now I really wished I were a vampire. It was way better than what I was looking at.

Staring back at me from the reflective glass was a boy with blue-black rockstar hair, really thick eyelashes like he wore mascara, and red red pj's like the one's I wore. The worst thing about him was he almost didn't look like a boy. I just knew he was. He was that girly.

Dam, would I hate his life, I thought. Ares Cabin would pick on him all day every day. He didn't even have the Aphrodite's-your-dad's-girlfriend privilege.

I just realised we were in a bathroom.

'Hello.' I said.

No reply

'He-llo?' I waved my hand from side to side.

The boy mirrored me.

I watched his lips. 'Good af-ter-noon.'

His lips moved when I talked.

Enough being enough, I brought my hand forward.

My nails were suddenly painted with black nail polish. My fingers weren't so pale and bony anymore. My skull ring was gone.

Much worse was that the boy in the wall had the same expression as me. 'Porca puttana.'

I felt the rest of my body. The boy in the mirror, who may or may not have been me, did exactly as I did without hesitation.

I clawed my new hair. I didn't just get this girlyman's life; I got his house, his walk-in closet full of rainbows, his voice, and his super effeminate body.

I hoped I got the anti-discrimination rights too. Sherman was going to kill me.