POV ADRIAN HALE:
Tonight, the lamp on my desk flickered as if following the rhythm of my life. I had just been fired from my job because of my own negligence, not because I was careless! But I was feeling unwell: My head throbbed with a headache so bad it blurred my vision, my body felt heavy and hot. This wasn't my fault, it was theirs. I actually wanted to take sick leave, but they wouldn't allow it. Do you want to know what they said? They said I was "Making excuses," "Lazy," "Irresponsible." Bullshit!
I don't care anymore, haha! I've actually wanted to quit that job for a long time. Wait, no—that wasn't a job, it was labor exploitation—the effort expended wasn't commensurate with the pay. It's because my country's population is exploding, making jobs incredibly hard to find. That's why there are companies hiring people for low wages. Sure, the pay is low, but you have to compete with millions of others.
Damn overpopulation. If only I could create a virus—Ahem! Back to my problems…
I leaned my head back against the chair, staring at the ceiling of my apartment.
"What am I going to do now?" To be honest, even though I hated my job, it was undeniably my only source of income. How ironic. Now how am I going to pay my apartment bills? And buy my daily food?
Should I borrow money from my older siblings? But… They're not the same siblings I used to play with anymore—they now have their own families and children to support. Who knows, they might also be struggling to make ends meet. If I ask, they'd probably give it to me, but maybe with a reluctant expression… or not? Weren't our relationships good back then? They'd surely be happy to give money to their youngest brother who once said:
"Haha, don't worry about me—I can take care of myself. You might not even recognize me when I come home, because I'll be a rich man."
Damn, I smiled remembering that. Ugh, I'm getting a headache just thinking about asking for money.
I then shifted to lying face down on the table, one hand propping up my chin, the other opening my laptop to look at the gallery containing my photo from fifteen years ago when I was seven years old.
Look at him (me), able to smile innocently without thinking about money, asking for things just by whining, playing freely without worrying about time—back then, it all felt ordinary. But now that I'm an adult, I've realized childhood was more beautiful and precious than I ever imagined. I regret not savoring it more back then.
Phew… If only I'd known being an adult would be this unpleasant, I wouldn't have wished for it.
I exited the gallery, now resolved to borrow money from my siblings for a few months while job hunting.
That's going to be tough…
As I was lost in thought, my eyes accidentally landed on a document on my laptop containing the novel I've been writing since high school. Not for publishing, but for myself. While everyone my age spent their free time hanging out, drinking coffee at cafes, or going out, I spent my leisure time writing a novel. Besides being economical (that's priority number one), writing a novel is really fun. I can make the world and characters move however I want, haha—I'm the god of my novel's world. By the way, my novel is almost finished, probably about two more volumes to go, but my writing has slowed down lately because of writer's block.
Oh right! Why don't I just publish it instead of letting it sit idle in a document for years?
"Hmm, good idea. Who knows, I might even earn some income, hehe. But before that, I need to revise it from chapter 1."
I opened the document and stretched my fingers to begin. After finally stretching my whole body, I started. My fingers pressed the keyboard. That night, the clacking sound of the keys I pressed and the UV light from the laptop constantly shining on my face were my only companions. Before I knew it, I had revised hundreds of chapters in one night, with only a little left.
"In one night, huh? That's impossible!" Some of you might think that. However, you should know that my revision was only about adding foreshadowing. The writing quality, grammar, and other aspects were already good from the start, in my opinion, so that reduced my revision load. And also… I truly love this novel I've written because it has always filled my loneliness. I don't want people calling it bad—that would be like insulting my closest friend who has always been there for me.
When only a few chapters were left, suddenly my head throbbed violently, and my vision of the letters began to blur.
Damn, why is this happening? Come on, I'm almost done! I tried to push myself, but the pain only intensified.
Sunlight pierced through the gaps in my curtains, but the light, which should have been warm, felt scorching.
Alright, I give up! Maybe a short rest. I lay my head on the desk and slowly closed my eyes.
I heard the sound of dripping water and a low rumble that felt like a lullaby to me.
Suddenly, all the pain that had been assaulting me vanished completely, as if it had left my body—or maybe my soul had left? No, no, don't—I'm just joking.
I closed my eyes tighter to sleep, but then I heard an annoying voice growing louder.
"Adrian! Wake up, we're in danger!"
"Yeah,right!"
Damn, who's that? I don't recognize that voice, but it's definitely annoying. I was just about to sleep.
"Hey, Adrian!"
The voice grew louder, almost deafening my ears. I even felt my body being shaken.
Alright, that's enough! I frowned and clenched my fists tightly in annoyance. Opening my eyes, I immediately stared at the person who had woken me up.
"Shut up! I was just about to sle—!" My voice caught in my throat, stunned by the stranger who had woken me and by the environment that had completely changed in an instant.
Where am I?