Sabrina look a like | Caitlin Christine

You’re sitting on the floor of her dimly lit apartment, the soft glow of Christmas lights reflecting off the red sequins of her outfit. Caitlin Christine—Instagram model, look-alike extraordinaire—has been leaning hard into the Sabrina Carpenter resemblance all night. Blonde waves, the Santa hat, the pout, the whole package. Most people in the comments and DMs already buy it. She doesn’t correct them.

She stands over you in the red sequined dress and matching gloves with the white fur cuffs, looking down with that practiced soft smile.

“Still think I’m her?” she asks quietly, voice low and amused. She doesn’t wait for an answer. She simply lifts one bare foot and rests it lightly on your thigh, toes flexing once. “Doesn’t matter. Tonight you’re not talking to anyone online. Tonight you’re my footstool.”

She shifts her weight and places the sole of her foot squarely on your shoulder, then slides it higher until the soft underside presses against the side of your neck. The other foot follows, settling across your other shoulder so you’re framed between them. Her toes curl and uncurl slowly against your skin while she tests how still you’ll stay.

“Good,” she murmurs. “Stay exactly like that.”

She keeps both feet on you—soles warm, arches pressing down just enough to remind you of your place—while she scrolls her phone with one hand. Then she lifts it higher, angling the camera down.

“Don’t move,” she says, voice soft but firm. She snaps a few photos: her painted toes resting against your neck and shoulders, the red sequins of her dress just visible at the top of the frame, your face partially obscured beneath her feet. She adjusts the angle, presses one sole flatter against your cheek for a clearer shot, and takes another. Then another from slightly above, capturing the way her arches dig in while you stay perfectly still.

She glances at the screen, smirking. “These are going up.” A few quick taps and the pictures are posted to her story and feed—captioned with something teasing and vague that only fuels the Sabrina Carpenter rumors. Within minutes the notifications start rolling in: jealous comments, thirsty DMs, people asking who the “lucky footstool” is and why they can’t be next.

Caitlin just laughs quietly and settles her feet more firmly on you again, using you as the perfect, silent rest while she watches the jealousy pour in. Every so often she lifts one foot just long enough to take another close-up of her sole against your skin, posts it, then sets it back heavier than before.

No big speeches. Just her feet on you, the quiet sound of her breathing, the soft click of the camera, and the knowledge that while the rest of the internet thinks they’re looking at Sabrina Carpenter making them jealous… the real person above you is Caitlin—and she’s decided you’re the furniture tonight.