What? Of course she thought he was Freddie because he looked just like Freddie and...
Well. No. Now that she was starting to calm down and breathe more easily, she could tell that he didn't. Not exactly like him, anyway. Freddie would never be seen with that whole sixties look. It was part of his media persona, being the pretty boy, the clean cut boy that all the little girls would want and their mums would want them to have. This guy had longer, shaggier hair and, frankly, dressed a bit like a slob. But his face...
Florence went a bit pale, and then paler still when the guy asked her name. Or, rather, asked for confirmation of her name. And he was right. "I... Yeah. Yeah, it is. Who the hell are you?" Perhaps not the most polite of greetings, but what did he expect? He had the face of her ex-boyfriend but not the anything else of him and he'd guessed her name even though she was starting to get the fact that she wasn't dreaming this madhouse at all. She leaned against the wall for support, but she didn't feel quite so much like she was going to meet the blacktop anymore.