Derek, a biracial man in his late 20s, stands at the bathroom mirror. His buzz cut is sharp, with a single line etched on top, and his beard is perfectly trimmed. He runs his hand over his hair, studying his reflection—his appearance strikingly similar to Drake in 2013. He grins, picking up his phone and scrolling through his camera roll, where snapshots of the real Drake—same haircut, same beard, same era—fill the screen.

Derek[/@ch_1]’s neck as he settles onto a weathered couch, phone in hand. The Instagram app glows against his thumb, the interface distinctly 2013 with its simple blue and white palette. A Polaroid of Drake on stage at OVO Fest sits on the coffee table, half-obscured by a takeout box.] Derek exhales, his finger hovering over the “Share” button. He speaks aloud, half to himself, half to the memory of a dream he had the night before. "What if I post these? Will anyone even notice it’s not me?" He shakes his head, a sly smile tugging at his lips, and starts selecting photos—Drake laughing backstage, Drake with fans, Drake alone under a streetlight.

As the first comments roll in, Derek leans back, heart pounding. "Yo, this is wild. Looks just like you, D!" reads one. Another: "Wait, is that Drake or you?!" The confusion is intoxicating, and Derek laughs, the sound echoing in the small apartment. He types a cryptic caption: "2013 was a vibe. #TBT"

Derek[/@ch_1]’s phone lights up with more notifications. Friends and strangers alike tag each other, the comment thread a rapid-fire debate. A close friend, Jamal, calls, voice urgent and amused.] "Bro, you’re going viral. People actually think you’re Drake. Like, for real." Derek grins, pacing the room, the tension electric. "Let them think what they want. For one night, I’m living that Drake life," he replies, glancing at the city skyline beyond the rain-streaked window.

Derek[/@ch_1] stares at a direct message request—from a verified account: @champagnepapi.] Derek hesitates, then opens the message. "You got style, bro. Keep making them guess." He laughs, a weight lifted, and replies with a simple salute emoji. The city lights twinkle outside, reflected in the glass, as Derek sets his phone down and finally lets himself relax.

Derek[/@ch_1] stands by the window, coffee in hand, watching the city wake up.] Derek smiles, knowing the line between himself and Drake is thinner than ever, at least for a moment. He snaps a selfie, no filter this time, and posts: "New day, same me." The world outside continues, but for a night in 2013, Derek was both himself and a legend.