I died single and a virgin. I died without ever knowing what it felt to be loved. I spent my college years studying, convinced that if I became successful enough, love would follow naturally. It didn't. One day I realized I was nearly thirty and had never been on a date, never even asked a woman out.
I used to think romance films were exaggerated, but still possible in real life. I read stories online, men meeting their wives in moments that felt almost unreal. They were beautiful. What I failed to consider was how much of it came down to luck.
By forty, my friends had children, some already grown. I, meanwhile, sat at my desk arguing with rude strangers about insurance. At some point, I accepted that I would die alone. At least I had money.
Being alone had one advantage: I could indulge myself. I bought a gaming PC, consoles, merchandise, but most of all, books. Every kind I could find.
One stood out. A novel called, You Shine Brighter Than the Moon. A cringe title, I know. Still, it surprised me. What I assumed would be a waste of time became something that made my life more bearable.
I couldn't relate to the story, but I understood that what the characters shared was real and beautiful, and I wanted it. I felt jealous. Sad. In all my years, the closest thing I ever felt love was helping a classmate throw out the trash.
"Thanks, that was very cute of you." She said.
The very next day, I saw her holding hands with a man I'd never seen before.
It was pathetic. Truly. I cried the entire night like someone going through their first breakup, except there was no relationship to grieve. We weren't even friends to begin with. Truthfully, throwing out those trash was our very first interaction.
It was December twenty-fourth, only a few hours away from Christmas. I didn't take the bus that day. I wanted to walk, watch the lights, and feel the snow as it fell. I made my way to the city square where the lighting event was being held.
It was a mistake. I had forgotten how many people would come, couples, families, children wrapped in scarves. I stood at the back alone while others laughed and danced, a beer in my hand.
Standing there felt humiliating, as if I were on display for the simple fact of being alone. I caught glances, too many of them. My face burned when I overheard an elderly couple speaking about how pitiful I looked. It made me angry, but they aren't wrong. I had failed at life, and there was no one else to blame.
Fireworks cracked overhead, blooming across the sky. The crowd looked up in unison. I raised my beer and swallowed hard, holding back tears.
I didn't stay long. No one said anything, but I knew I didn't belong there. I decided to make a quick trip to convenience store, then stopped short. Through the window, I saw two employees kissing behind the counter.
So i just kept walking.
I had always relied on buses and trains. Because of that, I never realized how far my apartment actually was. I had been walking for nearly an hour. The cold wind penetrates through my clothes, leaving me shivering. The road was buried under snow, and choosing the shortest route turned out to be a mistake, a death sentence.
I cut through the park to save a few minutes. I forgot that there was a big lake until I was already standing on it.
The ice beneath my feet cracked.
I fell in the cold water, my body going numb almost instantly. I tried to swim, but it was useless. The more I struggled, the faster I sank. I screamed, bubbles escaping my mouth as the water rushed in. I took one final breath.
Or so I thought.
I opened my eyes, and the brightness of the sun hit me so hard I nearly thought I'd gone blind. I fell out of bed and rolled onto the carpet, clutching my face. After a moment, I realized I was fine. Thank God I hadn't overreacted.
I opened my eyes again, slowly this time. My vision was blurry, but I could make out the room. Using the bed for support, I stood and reached for the small cabinet beside it. A pair of glasses rested on top. I put them on.
My vision sharpened and that was when the panic set in again.
I didn't recognize the room. It was unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting, as if I'd known it for years. I walked toward the mirror.
I stumbled back in shock. A different person stared back at me.
Somehow, someway, I was in the body of a background character from my favorite novel. Mel, one of the protagonist classmates, a minor presence in the story. I slapped my face, then again. It hurt. Meaning this wasn't a dream.
I searched the room until I found a calendar. Fortunately there was still a month before the story began. I let out a sigh of relief, there's still time to prepare for what's about to come.
First, I needed to understand where I was.
I left the room and went downstairs. The house was empty. In the kitchen, food sat neatly covered on the table, a note placed on top.
"I left some money pinned to the fridge. Buy groceries. You can keep whatever's left."
I was planning to go out anyway.
I ate, washed up, brushed my teeth, then changed into a plain white shirt and pulled a gray hoodie over it, with some band logo I didn't recognize, dotted with small characters. I kept the pajama pants. They were comfortable, plus the colors matched.
I put on fresh socks and slipped on a pair of branded slippers which looked pretty expensive. Then grabbed the keys before locking the door behind me. Everything was going smoothly until I realized I had no idea where the store was.
Fortunately, technology was present here. I had a phone with internet access and it was fast. A quick search on the map app pointed me in the right direction.
When I reached the store, a crowd was blocking the entrance. Two customers were arguing loudly. I ignored it and pushed past them to get inside.
"Where do you think you're going?" one of them shouted. "Can't you see we're in the middle of something? Kids these days have no respect at all."
I was reaching for a basket when he turned toward me, shouting.
"You talking to me?" I asked, confused.
"Yes, you, you little SHIT!" he snapped, pointing at me. "Are you slow or something?"
I laughed quietly, more amused than offended.
"Are you serious? Why would I care about your stupid argument? Don't you have any shame? Grown ass man throwing a tantrum just to get attention. Are you that fucking desperate?"
His face flushed red. Then charged at me, but before he could reach me, I shoved the cart forward. It slammed into his legs, and he went down clutching his knee, screaming curses and threats. I ignored his cries, grabbed another cart, and continued shopping.
I put on my earbuds blocking all the noise, playing whatever music Mel liked. To my surprise, his taste wasn't bad. By the time I finished, the cart was full and everything on the list was checked off. Despite the incident, it was a successful run.
I paid at the counter and called a cab as there were too many bags to carry. I was happy there's still plenty of money left, enough to buy something for myself. The problem was, I didn't know what I wanted.
A month passed.
In that time, I learned everything about this body. Mel lived with his mother. He was an only child, and his parents were divorced. His mother was wealthy, a CEO of a major company, well known in this world.
As for Mel himself, there was nothing remarkable about him beyond his looks and money. He had no friends. He avoided socializing, convinced people would only approach him for his wealth.
He was short for his age, with a slight build, often mistaken for a girl dressing as a man. Because of that I cut my hair shorter, though I left the back long enough so i could tie it as i like styling my hair that way.
Today was the opening of the school year.
I was dressed and ready when the driver arrived. I sat at the passenger seat. The car stopped at the school parking lot, already crowded with students, their voices filled with excitement.
I felt none of it.
School had never been something I looked forward to. I stepped out, thanked the driver, and headed inside. Students were directed to the auditorium for the opening speech, but I skipped it and went straight to my classroom.
I took a seat at the back, near the rear door. Pulling out a small hand pillow, I rested my head against it and waited for the speech to end.