I wasn't miserable.
That was the problem.
I just… existed.
No major failures.No real achievements either.No friends I'd lose sleep over.No dreams I chased hard enough to fail at.
Just years that blurred together.
School. Home. Phone. Sleep.
Repeat.
Sometimes I'd scroll through social media and feel that quiet pressure in my chest. Other people were living. Competing. Failing. Winning.
I was watching.
Every year, I told myself I'd change.
Tomorrow I'll start working seriously.Next month I'll improve myself.Soon, I'll become someone worth noticing.
Soon never came.
The weight of my family's expectations and the quiet disappointment that followed every failure slowly broke me.
They never shouted.
That would've been easier.
Instead, it was the subtle things.
The pause before they spoke.The forced smiles.The way hope in their eyes dimmed just a little more each time.
It wasn't the failures that broke me.
It was knowing they expected more… and realizing I never became it.
Sometimes I wondered if disappearing altogether would make things easier for everyone like maybe I was just in the way.
That night, rain tapped against my window.
I lay on my bed, phone glowing in the dark. On the screen was the final chapter of my favorite fantasy novel.
The villain's execution scene.
Lucian Vale.
Arrogant. Ruthless. Doomed.
Everyone hated him.
But he had lived fiercely.
He had ambition. Pride. Fire.
Even if he died pathetically, he had fought for something.
"At least he tried," I muttered.
The crowd in the novel cheered as Lucian was executed.
I locked my phone and stared at the ceiling.
My chest felt tight again.
"If I had another life…"
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
"…I'd do it properly."
I didn't want to wake up tomorrow and repeat everything again.
Just for once… I wanted a chance to start over.
My eyes grew heavy.
The sound of rain faded.
Darkness swallowed everything.
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Cold.
That was the first thing I felt.
Cold stone beneath my palm.
My eyes snapped open.
This wasn't my room.
A golden chandelier hung above me. Velvet curtains surrounded a massive bed. The air smelled like wax and old wood.
I sat up slowly.
My heart began to pound.
This felt real.
Too real.
I forced myself out of bed and walked toward the mirror across the room.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
When I looked up—
I froze.
The face staring back wasn't mine.
Black hair. Sharp red eyes. Features too refined. Too arrogant.
Too familiar.
I knew this face.
Lucian Vale.
The secondary villain of the novel.
The one betrayed by his allies.
The one crushed by the hero.
The one executed publicly three years after the academy arc begins.
My breathing turned uneven.
Three years.
That's how long I had before everything fell apart.
I pressed my hand against the mirror.
The reflection followed.
This wasn't a dream.
This wasn't a hallucination.
My second chance…
Wasn't as the hero.
It was as the doomed villain.
I stared at myself for a long time.
Then slowly, something unfamiliar stirred in my chest.
Not fear.
Not regret.
Something sharper.
If I've really been given another life…
My fingers tightened.
…I won't waste this one.