Genesis

Today was my latest audition. It's still in my mind on a relentless loop—the judges' indifferent faces, the stifled yawns.

I stood at the base of the staircase, my eyes tracing its seemingly endless rise. The narrow concrete walls pressed in on either side, creating a near-claustrophobic feeling. The only light came from the glass door at the top, slightly ajar, casting a dim glow that barely illuminated the cold metal railings.

As I walked up to the rooftop, a tightness coiled in my chest, spreading numbness through my limbs. The wind, sharp and unforgiving, whipped against my face as I neared the top. The world seemed to tremble beneath me, and I fumbled in the near-darkness until my fingers found the icy metal railing, gripping it desperately for stability.

I leaned my back against the cold wall and breathed slowly. Yet, the judge's words played once again in my mind, my legs seemed weaker at each passing second. "Work harder and try again next time." His words felt like thorns. He wanted me to work harder. I couldn't stop a slight chuckle of escaping my mouth.

My reflection in the rooftop's glass door stared back, hollow-eyed and pale. The hours spent rehearsing, the nights of relentless practice—they all seemed nothing to me now. My shoulders slumped, a heavy weight pressing down, pulling me toward the ground.

"Talent. It's always the talented ones." I muttered. My voice was a rough whisper. The talented ones, with their natural brilliance, always seemed to soar while I remained grounded, shackled by my own mediocrity.

Every applause they received felt like a dagger to my chest, a painful reminder of what should have been mine. I was the one who deserved that recognition, but here I am, without a single penny in my bank account.

"Fuck!" The word tore from my throat, raw and jagged. I couldn't hold it in any longer. Before I could notice I felt my lips tremble. As I thought about the past, the memories clawed at me, each one a reminder of my failure.

"What a good dream to have. Be an actor..." I laughed, mocking myself. I don't know why, but thinking about the past, the city's lights suddenly blurred as something hot fell on my cheek. What a foolish, childish dream that was. Now, as the last flicker of hope dimmed, my hands trembled against the cold steel.

"If I had a second chance I wouldn't be so stupid." I mused, though deep down I knew it was a futile, once again another childish wish. How pathetic for an adult to have such thoughts. Finally reaching the rooftop, I looked up at the sky. Even the darkest night seemed less oppressive than the bleak expanse above me today.

I turned my gaze to the parapet, took a deep breath, and steeled myself. I tried to jump, but my body hesitated, rooted by an instinctual fear. For a moment, I considered going back, but the thought of my never-ending debts anchored me in place. What was there to return to?

Peering down, I watched the people below, tiny and oblivious. I took a step forward and the wind embraced me, a fleeting moment of comfort. The cool rush against my skin felt surprisingly good, a bitter reminder that this would be the last sensation I'd ever feel.

As I fell, I expected to see my life flash before my eyes like a movie, but there was nothing. Just the void. I closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable. The impact came with a sickening crunch, the sound of bones shattering, and a coldness enveloping my body. Then, there was nothing, but silence.

It should have been the end of the line for me. Yet, despite what should have been certain death, I found myself still thinking. Descartes once said: "I think, therefore I am." If I was still thinking, then in some inexplicable way, I wasn't completely dead yet. But what was going to happen to me now?

I was enveloped in darkness, surrounded by nothingness. Am I in helll? I tried to move, but my body remained unresponsive. I couldn't move an inch. What had really happened to me? Why hadn't I tried again? Even living on the streets would have been better than this void.

I resented my decisions. I resented my past. I resented my lack of talent. I resented losing my parents before I ever met them. I resented everything. My consciousness was fading slowly as if I was about to pass out. Why had I wasted the only life I had? With the last flicker of my consciousness, I whispered: "I-I don't wanna die."

[Congratulations! The Acting System invites user Lee Noon.]

[Do you accept the Acting System?]

[Yes / No]

[Standby time: 10 seconds.]

[Standby time: 9, 8, 7, … 3, 2, 1.]

[Due to the lack of response, the system will automatically accept.]

[Initialization in progress, current status: 1%.]

[Initialization status: 30%.]

[Initialization status: 60, 70, 80, 100%.]

[Critical Error: Host body is malfunctioning.]

[Critical Error: The revival of host's body is impossible.]

[Scanning region]

[Ideal body found, initializing.]

Where am I? My head throbs, each pulse sending sharp waves of pain through my skull. It's like a drumbeat, pounding against my temple. I try to focus, but my mind feel foggy. A memory flickers in my mind—a completely dark room. But it slips away, leaving only a sense of urgency and void behind. Why does that memory feel so important?

A stench fills my nostrils, a sickening blend of sweat and something metallic. That seems like... Is that blood? The smell clings to me, turning my stomach. Am I in a hospital? Did someone find me after what happened to me?

My body feels clammy, drenched in something sticky. Panic rises within me. What happened? Why do I still smell blood?

As the pungent stench filled my nostrils, a vivid memory of my last moments poped up in my mind. A stark realization settled in my chest: no matter how pathetic was my life, once it's gone, there's no rewind. We only get one shot at this world, and I wasted mine thoughtlessly.

It's ironic, isn't it? To come to this epiphany in the state I'm currently in. My hands trembled with that very thought. I don't want to die. That part is unmistakably clear now. My breaths, once erratic with anger, now slowed. All I ever wanted was to escape my mistakes, to outrun the consequences that hounded me. 

Which hospital have I ended up in? My ears feel as if they're submerged in water, muffling the sounds around me. It's not just a distant buzz, it's a jumbled mess of noises, like I'm underwater trying to listen to the world above the surface.

At first, it's disorienting. The sounds blur together, a cacophony of indistinct chatter and the hum of machines. But gradually, it's as if the water is draining from my ears. I shake my head slightly, and the muffled barrier begins to lift.

The noises start to separate, becoming clearer. I can make out the steady beeping of a heart monitor, the soft murmur of nurses talking, the rustle of paper. Voices, once a garbled mix, now form words and sentences.

"Congratulations! He's a beautiful boy." A young woman's voice, filled with awe and excitement, broke through the hazy atmosphere.

My mind struggled to grasp the situation amidst the chaos. What were they going on about? Can't I catch a moment of peace even now? The inability to open my eyes shielded me from whatever was happening.

Suddenly, a jolt of searing pain shot through my left buttock, it was so unbelivable that It took me some time to process what happened.

'What the fuck?' I tried to roar, my voice strangled and unfamiliar, my body unresponsive to my commands. Amidst my confusion, a baby's cry pierced the air, disrupting my thoughts.

'Annoying kid, shut up. I'm trying to rest here, you know...' I grumbled internally, irritated by the incessant noise. The cry was unnervingly close. A chilling thought crept into my mind, but I quickly dismissed it as impossible. My eyes seemed to relax and they naturally openned. The scene that greeted me was surreal and nightmarish.

Tiny hands, tiny feet—a sea of colossal figures loomed over me, their voices a distant murmur. Amidst them, a woman gazed down at me with a mix of tenderness and curiosity. "He stopped crying so quickly. My boy will grow up strong like his dad." She said, her teary eyes looking at me.

Straining with every fiber of my being, I managed to turn my head toward a nearby mirror. The reflection that met my eyes was beyond comprehension, beyond horror. It was me, but not me—a tiny, fragile baby.

Denial washed over me. No, this couldn't be real. This was some twisted dream. I tried to whisper, 'No... no, this can't be happening.' but what escaped my trembling lips was nothing more than gibberish, like a baby's attempt to form words.

How could this be happening to me? What cruel kind of prank was this? My tiny fists clenched in impotent rage, the absurdity of my situation mocking me with each incoherent sound I made. I reached out a shaky hand towards the mirror, as if expecting the image to change, to morph back into my familiar form. Please, let this be a nightmare. Let me wake up.

But the reflection remained unchanged. A heavy, suffocating weight. This was my reality now, stripped of all dignity and power. Tears welled up, blurring my vision. I was trapped in this tiny, fragile body.

Finally, acceptance loomed, but I refused to embrace it. No. I couldn't accept this. I wouldn't. The surge of disbelief and denial flooded my senses once more, stronger than before, refusing to let me succumb to this absurd fate.

'No!' I tried to scream, but again, only babyish gibberish came out. The absurdity of it all seemed to mock my disbelief, each incoherent sound reinforcing the surreal nightmare unfolding before me.

Panic clawed at my chest, this couldn't be real. I am a grown man, not a helpless baby! Yet, the truth stared back at me, unyielding and cruel. I felt my eyes getting heavier and my conscience slipping away. My mind was too tired, and it was almost as if Hypnos called me to his realm. Before I closed my lids, the last thing I saw was that woman's eyes, filled with warmth and kindness.

Time became a vague concept, slipping through my grasp as I drifted in the void of unconsciousness. Then, one day, a flicker of awareness returned, and I blinked my eyes open to an unfamiliar voice nearby. I turned my gaze towards a sound and saw the same woman from before.

In her embrace, she cradled me gently, her touch tender. With a sweep of her hand, she tucked a stray strand of golden hair behind her ear. Her hair cascaded in waves, a sunlit blonde that seemed to shimmer in the soft light, framing her features like a halo.

But it was her eyes that captured my attention—their vivid green hue was nothing short of mesmerizing. Though delicate lines etched near the corners, there was an ageless quality to her skin that defied any attempt to gauge her years.

As I gazed up at her, a sense of calm washed over me. She gently lulled me in her arms, and I felt my consciousness fading once again. Yet, I couldn't take my eyes away from that woman. Just looking at her stirred something warm near my heart, a feeling I couldn't comprehend. It was as if her presence alone could soothe the turmoil within me, despite the bewildering reality I found myself in. The warmth was inexplicable, baffling me even as it comforted me.

In the following days, a familiar pattern emerged. I would catch glimpses of her before succumbing to sleep's embrace with surprising swiftness. Yet, amidst these moments, a question lingered in my mind—I had not caught sight of her husband. Strangely, as I observed her delicate form, a sense of fragility seemed to envelop her. Lost in contemplation, I surveyed the surroundings, taking in the simplicity and age of the house. The walls, once likely painted in a crisp white, now bore a faded yellowish tint, probably beause of years of sunlight filtering through the curtains.

"My love, you're curious like your father." she murmured with a soft smile, her hands tenderly resting on my forehead, tracing gentle circles with her fingertips. The room was bathed in a soft, golden glow from the evening sun filtering through the curtains, casting a warm embrace over us. The faint scent of lavender wafted in the air, a comforting presence that seemed to soothe both body and mind.

With each circular motion, the weight of the day's worries began to lift, replaced by a numbing sense of calm. Her fingers continued their rhythmic pattern, weaving a melody of quiet whispers and hushed lullabies that filled the room. My mind, overwhelmed by the recent events, slowly surrendered to the pull of sleep. Yet, a part of me remained detached, hovering at the edge of consciousness, unable to fully believe the reality I was living.

My heart ached, unwilling to accept the truth of my situation. I clung to the hope that, upon waking, I would rise to find it had all been a nightmare, that I was still well and alive in my old body. Yes, tomorrow, I would realize it was only a dream.