Freaky Sunday: Part I (Patreon)

Hi folks, thanks for being patient with me and welcome to October! This is another request from a patron, this time cicerosg2003 who wanted to see "Freaky Sunday swap: jocks; celebrities; musicians". I liked the idea so much I actually decided to make it a three part story with each part focusing on one of the involved parties! Here's part one and hopefully the following two parts will be with you very soon!

There was absolutely nothing Rex Burkhead loved more than Sunday Football. The New England Patriots were on a goddamn roll with Cam as their new quarterback and Rex himself was still riding the high of having a career best game the previous week against the Las Vegas Raiders, getting three touchdowns and a whole lot of rushing yards in the process. Even with all the complications going on in the world, football was still football and he relished every opportunity to play it, especially alongside guys who were like brothers to him. Not only getting to play but being an integral part of a winning drive, though? Now that was everything he had dreamed about since he was a kid and he was living that goddamn dream!

Of course, that wasn’t to say that football was without its difficulties. As much as he loved the sport, Rex wasn’t ignorant enough to say it was going to be his entire life. He left every game with an army of new bruises and, in more unfortunate cases, sometimes some more serious injuries. Playing at the running back position didn’t help matters much either, as he was a regular target for the tanks on whatever defensive team they were playing against that week. Sure, it wouldn’t be sustainable in the long run but he was going to enjoy it while it lasted without worrying about things that were outside of his control.

Despite the team all being in high spirits after their successful game against the Raiders, it became clear in the first quarter of their next match that they were in for a much tougher fight. They had expected as much - they were playing the reigning Super Bowl champions after all - but being down by twenty to nothing in just ten minutes of playtime was disheartening to say the least. Right from the first whistle Rex had done absolutely everything within his ability to try and push the Patriots offense forward down the field but he had accomplished nothing more than adding a few more aches to his already tired muscles.

Playing while physically spent was a dangerous thing to do but Rex never wanted to let his team down so he continued to soldier on, even when his body was begging him to slow down. Doing his best to silence those pleas, the running back focused on the play at hand and once the ball was snapped by the center, he accepted the quick hand off from their quarterback. Rex had made it all of three yards before he was tackled from both sides by gargantuan linebackers and was sent crashing down onto the grass at an awkward angle. The speed with which he collided with the two human walls caused his neck to swing back and bring the back of his skull thudding against the ground. The protection of his helmet could only do so much; a sea of stars swam in front of his eyes for a few moments before darkness started to creep over his vision…

Rex was fairly sure that he was only unconscious for a few seconds at most, but when he opened his eyes he was able to immediately identify that he was no longer laying down on the hard turf of a football field. There were a crowd of people gathered around him with looks of concern but they weren’t his Patriot teammates, nor medical staff, nor even from the team they had been playing against. Absently reaching up to pull his helmet off, he was stunned to find that he wasn’t wearing a helmet at all and his fingers instead discovered short bristles of hair! The sensation caused Rex to freeze up. Just how long had he been out in order to grow hair - it had to be weeks, at the very least! Then again, if he was just waking up from a coma, wouldn’t he be in a hospital rather than… where even am I?

Pushing himself up into a seated position as the various people around him gave him some more room, Rex glanced around to try and piece together where he was. He looked to be in some sort of warehouse that was illuminated by huge lighting rigs and featured a number of expensive-looking cameras. Was he on a goddamn film set? “Man, that hit musta really sent me for a loop,” he muttered to himself, still experiencing a dull throbbing in the back of his skull. If this was all a hallucination then it was feeling damn real. The concept that it might actually be reality… well, that was ridiculous. How could he go from a football field to a film set; from bald to a full head of hair; from surrounded by friends to complete strangers?

“You might have a concussion,” a meek-looking man with oversized glasses remarked, the concern etched into every line of his face. Yeah, that might explain it. “We’ve called for the on set doctor to check you out. Do you at least remember your name?” It was said in a tone that was somewhere between jest and fear and Rex was glad that he was able to roll his eyes without causing further head trauma.

“Rex Burkhead, duh,” he grunted with a scowl, trying to push himself back up to his feet. If this was some concussion-prompted hallucination he seriously hoped it would wear off soon. By the time he was fully standing though, the various faces around him only looked more concerned than ever. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Now that his head was gradually feeling a little on the clearer side, he finally noticed that his voice sounded off. 

The meek-looking man cleared his throat and cast nervous glances to the gathered crowd. “Your, uh-- your name is Brant Daugherty,” he explained in a timid voice, “You’re an actor and were filming a scene for a new action movie when the stunt went a bit wrong and you hit your head on your fall…”

Rex scoffed. His brain was seriously reaching into the very depths of his memory to give his hallucination a Freaky Friday plotline? That was definitely unexpected, but he supposed it would explain the hair and the film set. The name wasn’t familiar though, and, as he glanced down at his bare chest, he took in the sight of a much leaner physique that was clearly built for show rather than for athletic purposes. His washboard abs were picture perfect, his pale skin a deeper golden shade and there was even a small amount of hair over his usually smooth pecs. “You’re shittin’ me,” he murmured, reaching up to inspect his throat as the words were once again produced in unfamiliar tones.

One of the production assistants, a pretty girl with big brown eyes, held up her cell phone. “Do you at least recognise your own face?” she asked hopefully. The camera app was open with the front-facing view activated and Rex stared right into the shining blue eyes of a complete stranger. Designer stubble; thick eyebrows; perfectly coiffed hair. Every inch of his appearance was made up to perfection and Rex’s stomach did a somersault in response because who the hell was that?! Apparently the alarm showed on his face as the expressions of the film crew around him only grew more grave.

“I’m a goddamn pretty boy,” Rex breathed, still staring at his new reflection. Seeing himself operate another man’s face… there wasn’t anything weirder in the whole damn universe.

“What day of the week is it?” somebody else from the crowd hollered out.

“If it isn’t still Sunday, I’m gonna snap.” As much as he wanted to believe this was all just one crazy hallucination, the longer it lasted the more concerned Rex became. He’d never experienced anything like it before, nor had he heard any stories of it either from the countless teammates who had experienced concussions over the years. Then again, the notion that he was experiencing an honest-to-god out of body experience was so puzzling that it almost fried his brain! Was he to believe that this Brant Daugherty dude was now in his body? That could only promise disaster; hopefully he’d been taken right back to the locker room after enduring that nasty hit. As if Rex’s brain wasn’t already working overtime, now he had those thoughts to contend with too!

It was at that point that the doctor finally made his way through the circle of film crew and gave the man of the moment a sympathetic look. “Well, at least that’s one thing you’ve got right,” the doctor assured him. “Now, Brant, why don’t you come with me to the tent and let yourself get checked out?” With little else going for him, Rex agreed, only to find himself unsteady on much longer legs than he was used to. He was definitely over six foot now and probably looked like a buffoon staggering around in such a fashion. He could only hope that his impossible situation resolved itself soon, or he was going to have to start planning his journey from Los Angeles to New England to get back to his own damn body before anything worse happened!