“Do you remember when people would say you and Max were more identical than most identical twins? Even strangers in the street. You know? You look more alike than most. There are some twins where you can see they're twins and there are similarities but it's not always that they’re impossible to tell apart. I’m talking beyond just wearing the same clothes or having the same hair style. You know? I’m talking where the shape of their faces is exact. Eyes, nose, mouth, it’s all the same. That's you and Max. One leaves a room and the other enters, you wouldn't know if it's the first one returning or the other one arriving; all of that. Of course, you put that to the test from a young age.
“When you weren't fighting you were fooling the parents into thinking you were Max or Max was you. It became a game and soon, I’ll admit, it became, at least for you, an obsession. Sometimes it was as easy as just changing clothes and answering to the other one’s name - that's how it started of course. Soon it became difficult to keep up because it was more and more elaborate. You once visited relatives and spent the whole week playing the game. You never once broke character.
“Preparation became key for the game. Sometimes the sharing of certain details that you’d need to know about the other was all that was necessary. The talks you had were usually about your interaction with the person you were trying to fool. If it was the parents then you'd let the other know if they had said anything you should refer to. Those little things that only the two of you would know but would be a subconscious hint to confirm to them that this is the brother they think it is.
“Letting the other know about a significant event or something that you could mention became a source of confidence for you as well. You got to a point where you'd spend entire weeks at school fooling teachers and friends. You got Max suspended once. He wouldn't have cared if he actually did what he was being punished for but, because you did it, he was furious. It was those times of just being someone else that made you feel alive. The thrill. There were none too few times when, in the middle of the game, your heart was racing and you had to grip your hands together just to fight the shakes. A mix of nerves and excitement.
“You stopped the games in your late teens though. Max grew out of it apparently. It was fun. You were good. It took bravery, I think, because you were very different people. Where he was loud and out-going, you... well, you weren't. He was friends with more girls than you but in the middle of a game you had to approach them like you had known them for ages. That wasn't so easy. You were better at it than he was though, for sure. You prepared yourself. You would watch him, at home, at school, out with friends. You'd follow him without him knowing. You'd watch how he interacted with different people. You knew that if you got one relationship wrong, if you treated one of his friends in a way he didn’t, you’d have lost. You were good. In fact I remember you would sometimes wait for Max to be at home or away and you'd meet up with one of his friends without telling him. He'd come to you later and yell ‘cause his friend would talk about something they did that he didn't remember doing and he knew it had been you.”