Chapter 1: The Other Side of Midnight

The fluorescent lights of the lecture hall hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the sea of faces. Julian, a slender young man with a mop of unruly brown hair, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He adjusted his jacket and pulled the sleeves up over his forearms.

Around him, a kaleidoscope of expressions—nervous smiles, furrowed brows, glazed-over eyes—painted the shared anxiety of the room. They were all in the same boat, adrift in this unfamiliar sea of academia.

Julian was 18 years old, a fresh-faced kid from a small province now living in Metro Manila for college. A word that had once seemed so distant, now starkly a reality.

The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of navigating the sprawling maze of the university campus, making him feel like a fish out of water.

Professor Matthew, a man with kind eyes and a voice that resonated with quiet authority, stepped into the classroom.

"All right, class," he began.

As he addressed the students, he continued,

"College is a stepping stone, a launch pad. You're here to equip yourselves with the tools you'll need to navigate the complexities of the modern world. You'll learn critical thinking, problem-solving, and how to build a meaningful career."

Julian scribbled furiously in his notebook, trying to keep up with the professor's words.

"Career."

The word piqued his interest. He had heard it before but had never thought much about it. He imagined himself as a grown man, making a lot of money, living in a luxury house, and dating beautiful women. Could he truly build a life like that?

Professor Matthew's voice continued, a gentle current in the sea of anxious thoughts.

"You'll face challenges, of course. You'll encounter setbacks. You'll doubt yourself. But remember this: resilience is key. Learn from your mistakes, embrace the unknown, and never give up on your dreams."

Dreams. What were his dreams? Julian envisioned himself as a writer, penning stories that would transport readers to other worlds. But was that realistic? Could he truly make a living from writing?

The professor's voice cut through his reverie.

"Explore different fields, experiment, take risks. Don't be afraid to step outside your comfort zone. This is the time to discover who you are and what you want to become."

Who am I?

Julian wondered, a knot tightening in his stomach. He was just Julian, a small-town boy trying to find his place in the big city. A boy who still felt a little lost, a little adrift.

Then as the class finishes, Julian goes home in the evening.

He lays in bed to take a nap. The scene transitions, and suddenly he looks older. He is at a bar, flirting with a girl. The bass pulsed through his veins, a low thrum that matched the adrenaline coursing through him. He leaned in closer, his breath mingling with the scent of her perfume, a heady mix of vanilla and something musky.

"Ready for a nightcap?" he murmured, his voice a low growl.

The girl, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and desire, giggled.

"Lead the way, Mr. Mysterious."

He grinned, a confident smirk playing on his lips. He gestured toward the sleek black sports car parked outside, the moonlight glinting off its polished chrome.

The drive was a blur of city lights and late-night chatter.

He pulled up to a towering condominium, the sleek lines of the building gleaming against the night sky. The elevator ascended silently, carrying them toward the penthouse suite.

As the elevator doors slid open, the girl gasped. The apartment was a breathtaking spectacle of modern luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered panoramic views of the city, while sleek furniture, designer art, and a collection of expensive leather-bound books filled the space.

"Wow" she breathed, her eyes wide with admiration.

"This place is amazing."

He chuckled, pouring them each a glass of alcohol.

"Just a little something I picked up along the way."

He avoided her question about his profession, deflecting with a suave smile and a deeper kiss.

The night unfolded in a haze of passion and indulgence. They lost themselves in each other, the world fading away. As the first rays of dawn peeked through the blinds, the girl reluctantly pulled away.

"I should go," she said, her voice husky with lingering desire.

"My parents will be wondering where I am."

"Damn," he groaned, pulling her back for one last lingering kiss.

"Stay a little longer."

She smiled, her eyes sparkling.

"Maybe next time."

He watched her go, a lingering sense of satisfaction washing over him. He sank back into the plush cushions of the king-sized bed, the sheets cool against his skin. Exhausted but exhilarated, he drifted off to sleep.

Then, a strange sensation washed over him. A tingling, a buzzing, and then… nothing.

Julian awoke with a gasp, disoriented. The penthouse apartment had vanished, replaced by his modest room in the dorm near his school. He looked like his freshman self again.

"Aw man, it's morning already?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

He shuffled to the bathroom, took a shower, brushed his teeth, and got ready for another routine day of college.

Classes went by in a blur, and by midday, Julian found himself drawn to the quiet sanctuary of the library. He slipped into a corner seat, the dim lighting and muffled whispers lulling him into a nap.

When he stirred again, his surroundings had changed once more. He stretched his arms, feeling the familiar luxurious sheets beneath him. The sleek walls of his condo apartment greeted him.

"Morning again, huh?" he said, smirking.

He rolled out of bed, did a quick set of push-ups and sit-ups, and freshened up. The city called to him, and soon, he was behind the wheel of his sports car, navigating the bustling streets with effortless precision.

He stopped near a bank and parked in a shadowy corner. Stepping out, he leaned casually against his car, observing the building. His sharp eyes scanned the guards, the security cameras, the entrances and exits. He smirked to himself.

"Not much of a challenge," he muttered under his breath.

"This place is practically begging to be hit."

Satisfied, he slid back into his car and continued his drive, eventually ending up at a vibrant nightclub. The music thumped in his chest as he worked the crowd, charming his way through conversations and flirtations. Laughter and drinks flowed freely, and Julian found himself reveling in the nightlife.

But then, he glanced at his watch.

"6:40 p.m.? Aw shit, I've been out this long?" he exclaimed, his voice cutting through the din.

He left the club hastily, weaving through traffic back to his condo. Once inside, he grabbed a bottle of sleeping pills, shaking two into his palm.

"Gotta force this," he muttered, swallowing them with a glass of water. He collapsed onto the bed, forcing his eyes shut.

The shift came abruptly. His luxurious bedroom dissolved, replaced by the muted colors and book-laden shelves of the university's library. A voice pierced his daze.

"Excuse me, young man. This is a library, not a hotel"

the librarian said, her tone firm but not unkind.

"You've been sleeping for over five and a half hours."

Julian blinked up at her, still groggy.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am. I… I spent all night studying and must have dozed off."

The librarian frowned but nodded.

"Just don't let it happen again."

As Julian gathered his things and left, he muttered to himself

"I can't believe I slept that long. Missed two classes because of that. Shit."

He was barely out of the library when he bumped into Dylan, his best friend. Dylan's expression was a mix of annoyance and concern.

"Dude! Where the hell have you been?" Dylan demanded.

"I've been messaging you all day. You missed the quiz in accounting!"

Julian winced, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry, man. I fell asleep. I'll ask Sir for an excuse to take it tomorrow."

Dylan crossed his arms, unimpressed.

"You better. That quiz was brutal. You're lucky if he even lets you retake it."

Julian sighed. "Yeah, I know. Thanks for covering for me."

"Don't mention it. Just get your act together," Dylan replied, giving him a pointed look before walking off.

Julian stared after him, the weight of his double life pressing down harder than ever.

"I've got to figure this out," he muttered, heading back to his dorm.

Julian's footsteps echoed faintly in the empty dorm hallway as he returned to his room, a faint grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He shut the door behind him and tossed his bag onto the bed, then pulled out a notebook. Sitting at his desk under the dim light of his lamp, he began sketching the layout of the bank. His memory was sharp despite the surrealness of the previous night. Every guard's position, the angles of the cameras, and even the way the tellers moved during the late shift—all of it flowed from his mind to the paper.

"Though I slept so long, luckily, I was able to scan the bank a lot," he murmured.

His pencil danced across the page as he outlined the entrance, labeling details with shorthand notes. He paused to inspect his work, nodding in satisfaction.

"I'll check more of it tomorrow," he decided, snapping the notebook shut.

By 10:50 p.m., Julian lay in bed, the buzz of adrenaline slowly fading as sleep took hold. When his eyes opened again, he was greeted by the opulence of his penthouse apartment. The shift was instantaneous and exhilarating.

"Alright!" he chanted, stretching his arms above his head. He wasted no time hopping into his sleek black sports car, its engine roaring to life as he sped into the city.

The streets were alive with neon lights and a kaleidoscope of colors reflected in the rain-slicked asphalt. Julian relished the freedom, driving aimlessly to soak in the city's pulse. After a while, he parked in a secluded lot and popped the trunk.

In the dim glow of the streetlights, he changed into an all-black ensemble—a turtleneck, tactical pants, and heavy combat boots. A slim, matte black mask fit snugly over his face, and gloves covered his hands. He double-checked his tools: a compact cordless drill fitted with a carbide-tipped bit, a portable thermal lance capable of cutting through reinforced steel, and a diamond-tipped glass cutter. Each item was meticulously chosen for this exact scenario.

"Now, it's time for work," he murmured, his voice low and steady.

He moved like a shadow along the edges of the street, avoiding lit areas until he reached the bank. Scaling the fire escape, he reached the roof and crouched, pulling his backpack off.

From his bag, he retrieved the drill. Its motor purred softly as he carefully created an opening in the roof. To minimize noise, he used a soundproof enclosure—a small, collapsible barrier he set up around the drill. It wasn't his first time using it, and the process felt second nature. As the drill worked, he kept an eye on the surroundings, his ears tuned to the faintest sounds. Minutes later, the concrete gave way, revealing a dark void below.

"Showtime," he muttered, attaching a rope to the edge of the opening. He secured the harness around his waist and descended slowly into the vault area.

Once inside, he pulled out a thermal imaging device to scan for hidden lasers or traps. The screen displayed only faint mechanical heat signatures—nothing to worry about.

Approaching the massive safe, he withdrew the thermal lance. Its bright flame hissed as it sliced through the steel door, the metal edges glowing red-hot. The smell of molten steel filled the air as the lance's concentrated heat made short work of the vault's defenses. With a final metallic groan, the door swung open to reveal stacks of cash neatly arranged in bundles. Julian's grin widened as he began filling his backpack.

"Too easy," he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

Once his bag was packed, he climbed back up the rope and onto the roof. The night air hit him like a splash of cold water, refreshing and invigorating. He secured the opening with a steel plate he'd brought along, ensuring no one would notice the breach right away.

Back in his car, Julian's heart raced with triumph as he drove to a preselected dumpster behind a fast-food restaurant. He pulled out four stacks of cash and buried them under a pile of trash bags.

"Garbage trucks come on Thursdays," he muttered, checking his watch.

Satisfied, he climbed back into his car and sped home. By the time he collapsed onto his bed, the first rays of dawn were peeking through the curtains.

When he opened his eyes again, the penthouse had vanished, replaced by the familiar dorm room. Groggy but undeterred, Julian rose, brushed his teeth, showered, and grabbed breakfast before heading to class.

At the campus, his first stop was the faculty office. Facing his accounting professor, he feigned illness.

"Sir, I wasn't feeling well yesterday and missed the quiz. Can I please take it today?" Julian asked, his tone humble.

The professor's brows furrowed, but he nodded.

"Alright, but this is your only chance. Don't let it happen again."

"Thank you, Sir," Julian replied, flashing a sheepish smile.

When the quiz paper landed in front of him, however, his confidence wavered. The questions blurred together, incomprehensible.

"Crap," he thought, his pencil frozen in his hand. "I didn't study at all. I'm going to fail this."

A smirk crept onto his lips.

"Who cares if I flunk anyway? I'm still freaking rich!" The thought amused him enough to carry him through the rest of the day.

As classes ended, Dylan caught up with him in the hallway.

Dylan invited him to karaoke with their group, but Julian declined.

"Sorry, man. I've got somewhere to be," he said, brushing off the invitation.

Instead, he took a bus and traveled two cities away, with his school backpack

The journey was long but uneventful. When he arrived, the streets were quieter, dimly lit by flickering streetlights. Julian walked with purpose, his destination clear in his mind. Finally, he reached the fast-food dumpster. He grinned as he moved aside a few trash bags, revealing the sack he'd hidden.

Pulling it free, he opened it just enough to see the bundles of cash inside.

"Still here," he muttered, relief washing over him. He stuffed the cash into his bag, zipped it shut, and began his journey back. The thrill of his success lingered, a reminder that he was living two lives and he wasn't planning on giving up either anytime soon.