Zayn HeavensFall

Zayn's eyes snapped open, a sharp, searing pain running through his head as if his skull was splitting apart. He gasped, clutching his temples, the world around him spinning.

The pain intensified, and suddenly, memories that weren't his own flooded his mind—strange, vivid flashes of a life he had never lived.

A name—Zayn Heavensfall—echoed in his thoughts like a drumbeat. He saw moments, faces, and places, fragments of a life he now realized were not his own.

The life of a character from a novel he once admired, now his to bear.

Zayn stumbled to his feet and staggered toward a nearby mirror, his mind still reeling from the flood of memories. As he stared at his reflection, his breath caught in his throat.

The man staring back at him was unfamiliar yet oddly captivating. His hair was a striking shade of blonde, so pale it almost shimmered under the light, falling in soft waves that framed his face.

His eyes—sharp, intense, and glowing like molten gold—seemed to pierce through him, filled with a weight and authority that sent a shiver down his spine.

His features were impossibly perfect, defined with a chiseled jawline, high cheekbones, and a nose that seemed to have been sculpted by an artist. It was a face that commanded attention, exuding an undeniable magnetism, the kind that drew gazes whether he wanted it or not.

Zayn blinked, hardly able to believe the striking visage before him—it was as though he was seeing a completely different person, someone with the power to shape the world around him.

Zayn reached over to the bedside table, his fingers brushing against the smooth surface until they found his phone. He picked it up, his eyes scanning the familiar device as his thumb unlocked it.

The bright screen blinked to life, and he instinctively glanced at the time. 8:43 AM.

But then, his gaze shifted to the date. His breath caught. 20th October 2027.

A chill ran down his spine as the realization hit him.

Zayn's mind spun as he tried to make sense of it all.'It's the third year, and not the first year?'His thoughts raced, struggling to piece together the confusion.

He had transmigrated into Zayn Heavensfall, sure, but this wasn't the fresh start he expected. The original Zayn's life—his struggles, his rise—was supposed to begin at the start of the story, not near the end.

He was already deep into the timeline, just moments away from the disaster he knew was coming. The original Zayn was fated to die at the hands of his crush, a woman who had secretly harbored feelings for the protagonist all along.

She had seen Zayn as nothing more than an obstacle standing between her and her true love, and once she realized he was no longer useful, she killed him.

Zayn clenched his fists, realizing that he hadn't just arrived at the start of the journey—he was already in the middle of it, right before the tragic end.

Zayn's mind raced with panic.'I can't let her kill me. No way am I letting her do that'.

He clenched his jaw, trying to think of a way to escape the inevitable, to outsmart the situation without raising any suspicions.

He had no intention of letting the original Zayn's fate play out. Unlike the man whose life he now inhabited, Zayn felt no attachment to her—no love, no loyalty.

She was nothing more than a threat to his survival, and he wasn't about to let her get the best of him. His mind quickly worked through the possibilities, searching for a solution, a way to turn the tables before it was too late.

Zayn's mind raced as he processed his situation. 'I obviously can't beat her physically,' he thought, frustration creeping in. 'With the knowledge I already have, I'm pretty sure she's in the top 5 of the year.'

His thoughts spiraled, but then a flicker of hope sparked. 'Wait, with the original Zayn's memories, I should at least be somewhat good, right?'

He paused, considering it, but quickly realized it still didn't help much. The only thing he could think of right now was that he needed to avoid her.

'You see, while Zayn did like her, he wasn't obsessed—of course, the original Zayn was jealous of the protagonist, but he didn't outright show hostility.'

He sighed, knowing that avoiding a confrontation was his best chance. 'Also, having allies will help me a lot as well.'

His mind began to race with possibilities, searching for a way to navigate this tricky web of relationships and power.

Zayn's phone buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced at the screen, frowning as he saw the name "Ben Dover" flash across it. For a moment, he was confused—he didn't recognize the name.

But then, a flicker of recognition came with the memories of the original Zayn. 'Ben Dover' was actually one of Zayn's closest friends, Ren Dover, though he went by the nickname as a joke—some kind of banter between them.

Zayn couldn't help but let out a small, amused breath at the absurdity of the name. He opened the message, which read: 'wsp, you free today?'

Zayn's mind raced. 'What should I reply with?' He scrolled through the old messages, trying to figure out how to respond. It was just casual texting between normal friends at first, but then his eyes landed on some of the jokes they had made. Gay jokes.

He paused, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over him. 'Looks like their friendship was a bit too close…' He wasn't sure how to feel about it, but the realization left him slightly uneasy.

It was a strange thought, considering his own lack of meaningful connections. He leaned back, staring at the phone for a moment before it clicked in his mind. 'Well, I was a loner in my past life. I only became an actor because I had the looks and had talent in acting.'

The thought of his old life made him feel distant. Relationships had always been something he kept at arm's length, shallow and transactional. The idea of real friendship, of the kind he was seeing now between Zayn and Ren, felt unfamiliar.

He wasn't sure if he should be envious or uncomfortable with how natural it seemed.