What's In A Name?

[François Laffont]

Franck did not even bother to knock. If the door was to be closed, he would assume Frank "Sunny" Laffont was not there. Only it happened. So she had to be around her dorm. The fact there might be other roommates of hers in there did not even come to his mind. Or that she might be working on something. Or having fun with multiple copies of her. No, he just thought that he needed to talk to her and knew where she resided so he went there. He would still have time to text her and inquire on her whereabouts if he found out she was not around.

The door opened to a passably upset Franck. Nothing major but Franck was not one quite known for frowning so it might give pause to anyone who would pay attention. Something he didn’t quite expect his friend to notice. “Seriously, you have to stop using my name. I’m not even sure you can do that and you’re just messing with people’s head,” he said once he noticed golden locks attached to one very familiar person. Frank, Sunny, whatever she wanted to be called. Except that now she enjoyed calling herself Laffont. Because having Franck and Frank was not confusing enough at times, now both were called Laffonts! And one was not even supposed to.

He came towards her and showed her the box he had in his hands. “I’m guessing that’s your delivery since I didn’t order anything. And I have it sent to François,” he said. Yes, that box was the reason of his presence here. He could have told them to give it to her directly when someone at the reception said a package had arrived for him. He explained the mistake, pointed out anyway that the name Franck was not even written the way he did but that was not really relevant as the person could have not known. Still, he was sure it was her package, not his. He was done opening mystery packages. He already received the Big Book of Erotic Food, he didn’t need to get it twice.

Once the package was delivered, he sighed as he let the frown wash away from his features. He was not really upset about it, it was just very confusing. “Seriously, what is wrong with your name?”

[Frank "Sunny" Laffont]

A Frank opened the door, grinning at Franck. "Hiya---" she managed to get out before Franck spoke. The sounds of another Frank calling from further into the room could be heard, something asking about who it was. This almost ran right over with Franck's talk about using his last name and how she was using it to mess with people. "It's our hubby!" the Frank at the door yelled. She turned and got the package that was practically shoved into her hands, something about ordering and talk about names and stuff like that.

"What's he want?" the Frank further into the room asked.

"He's got a package!" the Frank at the door called back.

"Well, we know that!" the Frank from the room called. The Frank at the door (we'll call her Sunny because it's getting a little excessive in here) started looking through the package, trying to remember what she'd ordered. It was entirely possible that she'd done it while hyped up or that another of her had ordered it and not clued her in. It was also possible that Sunny had sent it to Franck's room on purpose.

"C'mon, Franck, isn't it obvious?" Sunny asked, rolling her eyes. "It was Cox, like penis. And who wants to go around being called that forever? Plus, like, everyone was getting married. If we didn't do it, we'd totes be behind everyone else. Actually," Sunny tilted her head to the side, "we should probably consider getting an adorable baby. I'm thinking we should go Chinese. Order one in. They do that, right?" She turned to yell back to Frank. "We can order Chinese, right?"

"Is this about babies or chicken?"

Sunny paused. "Is there a difference?" She looked to Franck. "They come from the same place, right?"

[François Laffont]

It didn’t take long for Franck to hear another Frank talk. Great, there were copies. It was pretty much impossible for Franck to tell exactly which one was the original one when that happened. And he really wished he’d talk to this Frank and not her copies. There was also the fact that one Frank was emotionally hard to handle, even if Franck had gone pro at that, but two or three was near impossible.

He sighed softly as the one before him announced him as their ‘hubby’. “Ex-hubby. Remember? I’d be more comfortable if you just call me Franck,” he said, glad the whole ‘Gilly’ was over. Although, the fact it was replaced by Hubby was not exactly what he’d call an improvement. He followed the conversation these two were having. Normally, he shouldn’t find it too weird. He dealt with enough twins in his life, including some pretty closed ones, to be fine with it but it was still so strange to see that phenomenon happen with Frank that he was still not used to t. He didn’t really care what was inside that box but judging by the curiosity he got from this Frank, she didn’t seem to remember she should have a box delivered to her. “You have no idea what’s inside either, do you?” Now, how could he kindly ask if she was the real one or the copy? He knew Frank would never care if he talked like that but he would.

Then there was this talk of Cox and penises. And marriages. “You know I considered even getting an annulment instead?” Was she even able to understand the difference? She didn’t seem aware that marriage was a very serious thing for him and the fact he did it, while being drunk, to a girl, was not something he dealt really well with at first. Even now, he was a tad embarrassed about it. Ok, very embarrassed. It seemed so natural to everyone else. How many did that before him? And how many would after? But they did not matter, he was not thinking like that.

And now she was talking of baby. “Frank,” he began, holding her hands that were holding the box to try and calm her and have her focus on him. She talked of this as if she meant to order Chinese food. In fact, the other one even made that comparison and that didn’t strike her as wrong. “I think if I wanted to adopt, it would be with my boyfriend... when I’ll get a boyfriend. And we shouldn’t do stuff like everyone else. How about being avant-garde?” Hey, she brought being ‘fashioned’, he might as well keep going down that line and point out you have to be one step ahead, not follow blindly.