The city lights twinkled outside the window like stars scattered across Earth.
Lucas stood silently, gazing down at the quiet street below.
"So much to take in…" he whispered.
Then his eyes widened.
"Sh*t—it's already 10 PM?!"
He grabbed his jacket, snatched his phone off the table, and bolted out the door.
The hallway was still unfamiliar. He turned a corner too fast—
Crash!
He slammed straight into someone.
"Oof—!"
Books flew. A purse dropped.
Lucas stumbled back. "I-I'm so sorry!"
In front of him stood a stunning girl—maybe early twenties.
Pale white skin, long blond hair, and wide, surprised eyes.
"No, no! I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I was in a rush too. Wasn't looking!"
Lucas shook his head. "No, it's definitely my fault. I was running without thinking…"
She tilted her head, looking at him curiously. "Why are you still here this late? The club usually closes by 9."
Lucas scratched his cheek, trying to sound casual. "Just… football stuff. Lost track of time."
She chuckled. "I can tell."
Then, after a pause—her cheeks turned slightly pink. "Hey, want a ride? I'll drop you off."
Lucas blinked. "Really? That'd be amazing. Thank you."
Thank God… I still don't even know where this guy—err, where I—live.
They walked toward her car together.
The silence between them wasn't awkward — it was warm. Quiet. Strangely comfortable.
As they both slid into their seats, Lucas glanced sideways at her.
If I remember correctly from the diary… this must be Sophie Laurent. Daughter of the school's founder.
And this guy—this Lucas—wrote about her a lot. His crush, most likely.
He quickly looked away, clearing his throat.
But me? I'm a 40-year-old bastard stuck in a kid's body. I'm too damn old for this… LOL.
"Hmm?" Sophie turned slightly toward him, her hair brushing her shoulder. "What are you thinking about, Lucas? Are you okay?"
"Y-Yep! I'm good. Totally fine," he said quickly, trying not to sound like he was panicking.
Sophie smiled softly. "I'm really sorry about your team's loss. I know how much that cup meant to you guys. You worked so hard... day and night."
Lucas froze.
Ah, crap. I need to look sad now. Come on, Lucas. Look sad. Be sad... Damn it, I suck at acting!
He let out a slow, dramatic sigh, channeling all the fake solemn energy he had.
"You only lose when you stay down. I'm still standing."
Nice. That one's from my previous life.
Next time… I'll win everything.
Sophie's eyes lit up. "All the best, Lucas."
Lucas quickly looked away, feeling his cheeks burn.
"Th-Thank you…"
Why the hell am I blushing?! I'm forty! FORTY! This is so wrong!
Sophie blinked, then smiled. A soft blush colored her cheeks too.
"You… sound different today," she said. "Like a totally new person. Did something happen? You're usually all nervous when you talk to me."
Lucas laughed awkwardly. "A-Am I? Hehe…"
Why is my heart pounding like this?! Stop it, body! I'm not a teenager anymore! Obey your real age!
The car slowed to a stop.
"Well, here we are. Your place," Sophie said gently.
Lucas blinked.
Thank God… I had no idea where this guy lives.
"Thanks for the ride," he said, unbuckling his seatbelt.
"No problem," she replied warmly. "Rest up, okay? I'll be waiting for your next victory."
Lucas blushed again. "O-Okay…"
He stepped out and shut the door gently, watching the car roll off into the night.
The cool breeze brushed his face.
He stood alone for a moment—heart racing, face flushed.
This body… this life… is gonna be a wild ride.
Lucas stood frozen at the main gate of the house, heart pounding like a drum in a championship final.
Damn… how am I supposed to face his parents? What if they find out something's wrong?
He took a deep breath.
Okay. Deep breath… steady… I got this.
Click.
"I'm home!" he called, trying to sound casual. Then muttered—
"Tadaima… or whatever they say in those anime shows…"
Heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway.
A woman in her 40s appeared, arms crossed, eyes sharp. She wore a look that screamed: You're in trouble, mister.
"Where were you, Lucas?!"
Ah crap.
That must be his mom — Marie Moreau.
"We were worried sick! We called you over and over — why was your phone off?!"
Lucas fumbled for his phone. "Oh… uh, sorry. Didn't realize it died. I was at the club. Lost track of time."
A calm voice called from deeper inside the house.
"Marie, it's late. He's back. Let him rest," said a man. "I'm heading to bed."
A tall figure leaned out from a room down the hallway. He looked older—not stern, just tired. Kind, in that dad-like way.
That must be his dad… Philippe Moreau.
Funny. In the diary, Lucas wrote about him like he was cold and distant. But maybe… he just didn't know how to show love.
Marie sighed. Arms still crossed, but voice softening.
"…Are you hungry?"
On cue, Lucas's stomach growled.
"…Yeah. Starving, actually."
Without a word, she gently took his hand and guided him to the dining table.
A few minutes later, a warm plate of food was placed before him, steam rising into the air.
Marie sat across from him.
"Well? How is it?"
Lucas took a bite—
—and froze.
His eyes stung. A warmth spread through his chest, catching him off guard.
"…It's good," he whispered, voice trembling.
No… it's more than good.
I never had this. Not once. No family, no warmth… just cold takeout and colder nights.
Is this… what having a mom feels like?
He blinked quickly, hiding the tears.
"It's so good. I'm gonna eat everything!"
He grinned through the tears and dug in.
Marie smiled — not the scolding kind, but the kind that made your heart ache in the best way.
This Lucas… he had it good. Real good.
I don't know why I ended up in his body, but I swear…
I'll protect this life. I'll make them proud.
Marie chuckled softly, shaking her head.
Lucas laughed too. The warmth in the room wrapped around them like a gentle blanket.
For the first time in a long time, the house felt full—not just with people, but with something deeper.
Laughter echoed through the kitchen, light and genuine.
In that moment…
They were simply a mother and son, sharing a quiet joy.
End of Chapter 2