Dom's POV
The world tilted. The solid, expensive reality of my bedroom warped at the edges.
I'd been living in a state of controlled panic since I woke up here. When Max—that glowing, green-winged creature—had materialized and explained I was now inside a novel, I'd genuinely believed I'd finally cracked. In some complete psychotic break.
It took hours of silent screaming into a pillow that cost more than anything i once own to accept it was real. The rules were simple, terrifying, and absolute: act like Dominic Moreno, or suffer "the consequences". Play the arrogant, careless playboy. Treat life as a game I'd already won.
But I couldn't. The memories were there, the instincts, but they felt like a gross, ill-fitting costume. Every smirk I forced felt like a crack in my soul.
And Dave… he'd been off, too. Different. I'd noticed the subtle hesitations, the strange looks, the way he'd intervened with Audrey. I never, not for a second, let myself hope.
I'd just lied to his face, giving him the answer about psychic attacks. I was protecting myself. The guide's first rule was secrecy.
Then Max appeared to talk to me. And i ignored, thinking i was the only one that can see him.
Except…
Dave was staring. Not at me. At the space by my shoulder where Max hovered. His face was a mask of pure, unguarded shock—the same shock I felt the first time I saw Max.
My blood went cold, then hot. I followed his gaze to MAx, then back to his eyes. The truth slammed into us both with the force of a truck.
"You're a transmigrator."
We said it together. The words hung in the soundproof room, shattering the last pretense.
My heart hammered against my ribs. "You… you can see it?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. I gestured weakly toward Max. "Him?"
Dave let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-sob of pure relief. "Yes. I see the guide. With Four green wings." He ran a hand through his hair. "I can't believe it. I thought I was completely alone."
"Do you have one too? A guide?" I asked, my voice steadier now.
"I do," Dave nodded, but he waved a hand as if brushing the topic aside. "But that's not the main thing right now." He took a step closer, his intense focus entirely on me. "Which world did you come from?"
I blinked. "What kind of question is that? Our world. The real world."
"But is it the same real world?" Dave pressed, his eyes searching mine. "Think about it. The guides didn't give us a manual. They just dropped us here. For all we know, we could be from parallel dimensions, alternate versions of Earth. We need to establish a baseline."
Before I could answer, Max's voice chimed in, clear and conversational. "There are some certain information that are restricted to higher system tiers. So if you keep advancing in your system, you will find more answers to your questions."
I shot a look at Max, then back to Dave with a shrug. "You heard him. But… even if we are from the same world, the odds we knew each other are basically zero. It's a big world."
Dave pondered that for a second, then shook his head. "Maybe. But we're in this together now. We should at least know who we were. I'll start." He took a breath. "My name was Dave in my world, too. Dave Grant. I worked as a senior project manager for a big entertainment company called Sync Media."
My heart did a funny little stutter in my chest. Sync Media. That wasn't a coincidence.
"That's a wild coincidence. I've heard of it. It's popular."
"Popular is an understatement," Dave said with a faint, wry smile that didn't reach his worried eyes. "You seem like you are more familiar with it"
"Yeah," I said in a casual manner. "Who isn't? They produce some of the best talents. I am actually a fan of one of their singers. The name is Cruz."
I saw the flicker of recognition in Dave's eyes, followed by a hint of assessment. "Cruz. Yeah, I know the name. Not personally, of course. A prodigy."
He said it evenly, but I felt exposed. Cruz wasn't just a singer I was a fan of. Cruz was me. It was the stage name I'd built from the ground up, the identity that meant everything.
The singing, the acting, the relentless work to be the best—that was my old life. Letting Dave know I was the Cruz shouldn't be necessary. In this world of secrets and power plays, my real-world fame was a vulnerability I couldn't afford.
So I just nodded, keeping my fan story simple. "Yeah, huge star with amazing following."
Dave seemed to accept it. "Right. Well, it's something. We're from the same world. That's a start." he focused on me. "So, who were you, then?"
I'd already prepared the lie. It was close enough to the truth to be believable, but far enough to keep me safe. "My name was Dominic, too. Dominic West. I was more of a freelancer in the entertainment scene. Picked up gigs here and there—local shops, small venues, that kind of thing. Nothing as fancy as working at the Sync Media headquarters."
I braced myself for a look of disdain. The Dave of this world would have scoffed at such a small-time existence.
But the man in front of me just nodded thoughtfully. "That's cool. A lot of freedom in that." His lack of judgment wasn't what i expected. "What's the last thing you remember? Before you woke up here?"
"I was at a party. My friend worked at Sync Media, and he got me a guest pass to the company's big annual bash. I remember having a drink, talking to people… then heading home. Next thing I know, I'm in this body with a green-winged creature in my face."
the actual truth is since i work there, i don't need a friend to attend the party.
Dave's eyes widened. "That's exactly what I remember. The Sync Media party. I was there. I went home, went to sleep, and woke up here." He ran a hand over his face. "This isn't a coincidence."
The shared memory was chilling. I turned to Max, who was floating nearby, looking vaguely bored. "This isn't random, is it?" I asked. "Why were we brought here? Specifically us, from that party?"
Max glanced over, a faint smirk on his features. "Oh, now you acknowledge I'm here? Lovely. I told you when you were panicking—people get brought over to avoid this world from coming to an end. You're here to help write a better ending."
Dave muttered something, and a pulse of blue light appeared beside him, resolving into his guide. "Dex," Dave said. "If we're here to change the story, why are we still following the acts of the former characters?"
Dex sighed, as if explaining something obvious to a child. "That's just the instruction you have to follow, or there will be consequences."
A cold dread settled in my stomach. "He's right," I said to Dave. "I don't want to be permanently deleted here with no way back. We have to follow the rules while we figure them out."
I wasn't just going back for my life. I was going back for her. The woman with the quiet intensity I'd never had the courage to approach. And the cruel joke was that her face, her name—Audrey—was now our stepsister. Seeing her at the Blake gates had stolen the air from my lungs.
Dave was pacing. "Fine. It's fine. At least we have each other now. We can figure this out together. Step one is just not getting… rejected."
"Agreed," I said, pulling my focus back. "So, are you going back out to get her? Our new step sister?"
A sharp ringtone cut through the room. Dave pulled out his phone, his face tightening. "It's Father." He looked at me. "He won't be pleased if she isn't here when he asks for her."