"Daddy, I can't sl- Daddy, who's that?"

Anthony's mouth hung open in shock.

"D-did that girl just call you… Daddy?" the befuddled tattered-clothed man asked his friend in astonishment.

Ian stepped over to her and scooped her up. "Emily, you remember Daddy's friend Anthony from those pictures and old videos, right?"

The four-year-old stared at Anthony with a sullen expression then wordlessly nodded. Her brown locks fell over her porcelain-skinned face in the dim light. Anthony was completely at a loss at what to say to her or react other than awkwardly raise his hand up and wave uncomfortably at the child. She didn't react to his gesture. Her soft, quiet voice echoed in Anthony's mind with the word "Daddy."

"Daddy and his friend need to talk for a little bit then I'll tuck you in, ok baby?" She again nodded with a frown, not taking her hazel eyes off Anthony. He lowered her small-framed body to the ground and reached for a toy on the couch. "Here, play with Jigglypuff for a little while and I'll be in your room soon." She grasped the pink plush toy and hurried off back to her room.

Anthony watched her disappear down the hall and awkwardly cleared his throat. Ian turned his attention back to him, suddenly remembering he was standing behind him. "Since when do you have a daughter?" Anthony abruptly asked.

"Since when do you come barging into my house like you live here?" He rebutted slightly annoyed.

"Wait, what?" Anthony recoiled. "I'm your roommate and I live here. And since when do you have a daughter?!" He asked again.

Ian appeared even more upset then scoffed. "What the hell is wrong with you, dude? We haven't lived together since you quit Smosh five years ago! And please try to keep your voice down, for God's sake! Emily's already scared enough as it is."

Anthony clutched his head trying to make sense of Ian's words but nothing was computing in his mind. "Ok, none of this is making any sense to me right now. Please believe me! It's like I have amnesia or something."

Ian's face softened a bit and he looked a little sympathetic. "Wait, you don't remember any of this? The fight we had? Quitting YouTube? None of it?"

Anthony shook his head in his hands. "I have memories, but not of any of those things! I mean I remember hanging out with you two days ago, for fuck's sake!" Anthony only now noticed Ian's hair was styled slightly different from when he last saw him. He also had much more facial hair than he did the other day. Hell, it was almost impossible to grow as much as he did right now in the span of two days when he was clean shaven. "This is all so weird," he muttered helplessly. "I don't know what's happening. Please, dude. You gotta help me."

Ian saw the broken man before him and ran his fingers through his hair, sighing and turning his attention to the dining room table. "I know I shouldn't even have let you in here over the way you treated me before, but I have some strange nagging feeling that you're telling the truth, as much as I hate to admit it." Anthony looked up at him with a pleading look and Ian finally gave in completely. "Alright. I'm willing to put all of it aside just so we could figure out what the hell's going on. Come on."

They made their way to the dining room table and sat down facing each other intently. Anthony only now noticed that all the furniture was different. Only the dim light of the kitchen was on but he realized so many things were missing or out of place. The Street Fighter machine was gone, so was the mustache over the hallway. He felt an eerie sense of déjà vu being inside this strange parallel version of his home.

"Okay," Ian said, resting his hand on Anthony's shoulder. "Think, Anthony. What's the last thing you remember doing before things got all weird?" Anthony hummed in thought as he tried to fill the dark recess in his brain but his mind conjured nothing.

"I don't know. I really can't reme-"

"THINK!" Ian demanded more forcefully.

"Okay, okay! Jesus." Anthony closed his eyes and thought back to the last moment before he woke up and took a deep breath.

"I was sitting on my bed reading that graphic novel you let me borrow. I think it was the first Scott Pilgrim book…" He swiped at patchy memories and tried to piece together his last thoughts.

"Okay," Ian encouraged. "Then?"

"I heard a loud noise. It's wasn't like lightning of a gunshot. I don't really know how to describe it. I got up from my bed and went out to the backyard to see what was going on."

"Then what happened?" Ian asked with intense curiosity.

Anthony scrunched his eyes tighter. "I… I don't remember anything after that. I woke up on the side of the highway outside the city and I made it to Kalel's house, but she went nuts when she saw me and said I was cheating on her and kicked me out."

"Oh," Ian simply replied.

"What do you mean, 'Oh,'?" Anthony asked as he eyed the bushy bearded man.

"By 'oh' I mean it's about time she found out about you fooling around behind her back and did something about it."

Anthony grew annoyed and stood up. "Why does everyone keep calling me a cheater? I've never cheated on any of my past girlfriends!"

Ian looked at him in disbelief. "Wait, you're kidding, right? Do I even need to bring up Katie? Or did you forget about her too?!" Ian was getting more and more upset by the second. Anthony's mouth hung open then he stood up angrily.

"I don't know who any of these people are! Just listen! Everything's the same, but different."

Ian looked at him in confusion but Anthony continued.

"Look, we're supposed to be roommates, Kalel's supposed to be my fiancé, you're not supposed to have a d-" he stopped himself and sighed. "You know what? Forget it. I'm crazy. I should just go and leave you and Emily alone."

A deep sense of longing filled the tattered-clothed man; a longing for normality, for peace, for… reality. But was this reality now? Is this what he must accept as being what he must face every day now? He wasn't ready to accept such a terrible fate. His friends and loved ones were all turning against him. Nothing seemed right. Was I in some weird coma for five years? A coma that resulted in amnesia? Was that even possible? He had no answers. Anthony was almost at the verge of tears. Never before had he ever felt so alone, so victimized and abandoned.

Ian stood up and watched him walk to the door, his wide blue eyes seeing the pain in his stance.

"W-where are you going?" he hastily blurted.

Anthony stopped but didn't turn to face him.

"My parent's house…" he quietly mumbled.

He heard Ian intake a quick breath; almost a choked remorseful gasp.

"A-Anthony. Your parents died a long time ago…"