Chapter 2: Switch

Two Years Ago

Julian stood in the packed Light Rail Transit (LRT) bus, swaying slightly as the train rumbled over the tracks. It was a typical Manila evening humid, noisy, and chaotic. He held onto the overhead strap tightly, trying to keep his balance.

A man sitting nearby noticed him and stood.

"Hey, take my seat," the man said with a friendly smile.

Julian hesitated but nodded.

"Thanks."

The man gave him a quick nod before moving to stand by the doors. Julian settled into the seat, grateful for the gesture.

Suddenly, a thunderous bang echoed through the train. The steel rim of one of the train's wheels had burst, sending vibrations throughout the carriage. The lights flickered. Gasps and screams filled the air as the train jerked violently.

A second later, chaos erupted. Sparks ignited a fuel tank, and half the train exploded in a fiery blaze. Julian felt the heat blast against his face before being hurled to the floor.

The world spun as debris rained down. His ears rang. His vision faded.

The sterile scent of antiseptic was the first thing Julian noticed when he woke. The beeping of machines followed, accompanied by the dull ache in his right arm and ribs.

"Julian!"

His mother's tearful voice broke through his haze. She sat by his bed, her hands clutching his.

"You're awake" she whispered, her voice trembling with relief.

Julian tried to speak but winced as pain shot through his chest. He glanced at his arm, now wrapped in a heavy cast. His mother kissed his forehead, her tears soaking his hair.

The doctor entered, clipboard in hand.

"You're a lucky young man, Mr. Cruz. Rest is critical for your recovery. No sudden movements or unnecessary stress."

Julian gave a weak nod, exhaustion washing over him. He closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

Julian's sleep was restless, a mix of vivid dreams and strange sensations. When he woke, something felt…wrong. His vision wavered as if he were looking through someone else's eyes. His body felt larger, heavier.

He sat up, shaking his head to clear the fog. A nurse entered the room, her face pale when she saw him.

"Mr. Lee?" she stammered.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Lee?" Julian repeated, confused.

"You've got the wrong guy. My name's Julian."

The nurse hurried out, returning moments later with several others. They fussed over him, checking his vitals and asking him questions. Still dazed, Julian complied.

When they left, he glanced at his arm. The cast was gone. His fingers flexed easily, without the stiffness of injury. Unease gnawed at him as he shuffled to the bathroom.

The face in the mirror wasn't his.

"What the hell?" he whispered, running his hands over the unfamiliar face.

It was the man from the train—the one who had given him his seat.

Panic set in. Julian stumbled back, shouting for help. Nurses rushed in, trying to calm him. He eventually succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep again.

When Julian woke up, he was back in his hospital bed. The cast was back on his arm.

"It was just a dream," he muttered, relief flooding him.

His mother sat beside him, her expression soft but concerned.

"Are you alright? You were mumbling in your sleep."

Julian hesitated.

"I dreamed I was someone else...someone from the train."

She gave a small smile, brushing it off.

"It's probably the medication."

But the unease lingered. That night, Julian fell asleep again, and the dream resumed. This time, he was prepared.

Waking in the stranger's body, he checked the wristband on his arm:

Zander Lee, Age 22.

Julian wandered through the hospital in Zander's body, taking in his surroundings. As he climbed the stairs, he reached the floor where his original room was. Peeking inside, he saw himself asleep, the cast visible.

"That's…me?" His voice trembled.

Before he could process what he was seeing, the shock overwhelmed him. Julian fainted, crumpling to the floor just outside his room.

Julian woke up in his own body again. His mother told him a man had collapsed outside their room. His stomach twisted with realization.

"It was him...Zander," Julian thought.

Testing his theory, Julian deliberately fell asleep and woke up again in Zander's body. This time, he was discharged from the hospital.

The nurse handed him Zander's belongings, including a wallet.

"Take care, Mr. Lee," she said kindly.

"Yeah...thanks," Julian replied, his mind racing.

As he stepped outside, he opened the wallet, flipping through the IDs and cards.

"Based on the crap in here," he muttered,

"he lives...right here." He stared at the address on Zander's ID, then hailed a cab.

The cab pulled up to a modest condo building. Julian found Zander's keys among his belongings and entered the unit. The space was simple—neither lavish nor poor.

"What do you do for a living, Zander?" Julian muttered, scanning the room.

He found a pile of papers on the table, covered in notes and manuscripts. "A novelist?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Kinda lame, honestly."

Attempts to access Zander's computer were blocked by a password. Frustrated, Julian wandered the apartment. As he stood by the window, staring out at the city, a smirk tugged at his lips.

"So, I can switch bodies whenever I sleep," he said to himself. "Interesting."