-Prologue-
'The time when I was on the verge of suicide feels so far away,' I thought as I sipped a glass of champagne, waiting for the woman of my life.
Dressed in a three-piece suit, I reflected on my past life, the life I had when my parents were killed.
'Even though they weren't actually… murdered, the driver responsible for the accident that took my parents' lives was just as guilty as any common murderer in my eyes,' I thought, squinting at the memory of that man who got away with only a light sentence of two years in prison.
'Without Bianca, I would have been lost a long time ago,' I thought, deciding not to dwell on that terrible story.
'If she hadn't found me on that balcony…' I thought, recalling the time when I almost ended my life by jumping off my balcony.
It took just one conversation with her for her to fully grasp the deep suffering I was drowning in and to start healing me.
With her help, I found a place in a decent home and immediately got my life back on track.
I took on two small jobs during the week, one as a taxi driver and another as a baker, and on weekends, I worked hard to learn photo and video editing.
For years, I did only one thing: worked like a madman because I had only one goal—to marry the angel that God had sent me.
I was so obsessed with this goal that I spent no more than a thousand euros a month.
And this, despite earning an average of 7,000 euros per month.
This routine lasted for more than four whole years.
At just 23 years old, I had managed to save nearly 250,000 euros.
It was a substantial sum, but it had undoubtedly cost me a part of my longevity.
I hesitated for a long time about what to do with it because Bianca and I had grown so close that I wanted to confess my love to her without waiting any longer.
Through simple truth-or-dare games, we had admitted our feelings for each other without ever explicitly saying it.
Several times, I wanted to tell her everything, but the moment was never right.
I feared rejection, but even worse, I felt inferior.
I was afraid I wouldn't be able to give her the life she deserved.
'Until now,' I thought, briefly recalling my last business deal.
A few months ago, Jose, my best friend, told me about the opportunities he wished he could have if he were as 'rich' as I was.
He talked extensively about Bitcoin and the explosion this currency was going to experience.
He told me that in the financial world, it was often ridiculed and looked down upon, but he was convinced it was the future.
His obsession with it made me curious about what Bitcoin really was, and after studying it more closely, I wanted to try my luck.
Understanding its potential, I gritted my teeth and took the gamble.
I invested a year's worth of my young fortune, which was around 50,000 euros, and then I bought a seaside villa that I rented out for additional income to fill the gap I had created in my savings, praying that my bet would pay off.
And what a surprise it was when all the indicators started flashing green, green, and still green.
'Money didn't matter. What mattered was the future I could have with Bianca,' I thought.
'4.16 million euros—that's how much I made thanks to my little bet in the year 2017,' I thought as I stood up, having just spotted Bianca arriving in the distance.
But she wasn't alone.
My smile froze, and a deep sense of anxiety gripped me as I saw Jose with Bianca.
'What the hell are they doing together? I didn't invite him,' I thought, but decided to keep my composure.
"Hey buddy, how's it going?" Jose asked, giving me a hug.
I smiled, a little uneasy, but pretending everything was fine, then replied:
"Everything's going great, and you, my brother?"
"I'm good," Jose said nonchalantly.
"So, what are you doing here?" I asked before adding jokingly, "I don't remember inviting you?"
It wasn't Jose who answered first, but Bianca, who tried to say, "Lorenzo, I…" before being cut off by Jose, who spoke with a big smile:
"You invited my girlfriend, so I figured you wouldn't mind having your best friend around too."
His words hit me like an atomic bomb, reducing everything to dust, leaving me momentarily speechless in the face of his statement. But little by little, all the pieces of the puzzle started falling into place, freeing me from this brief state of shock.
I rubbed my thumb and index finger furiously before repeating his last words to myself in an ironic tone:
'Best friend, hmm.'
No one else could see why he had betrayed me like that, but I knew.
It was so obvious to me, as clear as the nose on my face.
'He's drowning in jealousy,' I noted to myself.
It wasn't something I had just discovered—I had known his temperament for a long time, as well as the jealousy he harbored, seeing more and more money flow into my pockets.
It had never bothered me because, up until now, he had always done his best to hide it.
I never would have imagined he could betray me like this, consumed by the jealousy that suffocated him.
'You fucking son of a bitch,' I screamed internally, making sure to keep a straight face under his proud gaze.
I forced a hypocritical smile and said, trying to control my expression as best as possible to maintain at least some dignity despite the situation:
"Wooah, and here I thought we told each other everything."
I looked at Bianca for a few seconds. She seemed worried by my sudden change in expression.
'We've known each other too long not to see through each other's façades,' I thought.
"I'll be right back, I have a call to make," I said, finding the first excuse I could to walk away from them.
"Let me go! I told you I should have been the one to tell him myself!" I heard Bianca say furiously.
'She's not stupid, she knows exactly what he just did,' I thought.
I didn't need more details to understand that this was something recent.
When I told Jose that I was about to cash in 4 million euros thanks to his idea, he must have thought of stealing something precious to me—just like I had 'stolen' his 'idea.'
With each step I took toward the door, I still couldn't process what had just happened before my eyes.
Even though, deep down, I had always known he was a scumbag.
He had always been like that with everyone—but never with me.
And I had always been there for him, just as he had been for me.
For all the other friends we had made along the way, he was the guy you should never introduce to your future girlfriend before things were official—but not for me.
I had talked to him about Bianca and introduced her almost immediately because I trusted him.
Because I believed we had a strong bond.
Because I loved him.
Because, aside from Bianca, he was the only person who had never abandoned me and had always been there, especially after the death of my parents.
Because we were brothers.
I sighed, shaking my head gently before thinking to myself:
'And he betrayed me for what? A simple inferiority complex?'
If my heart wasn't literally breaking with every breath I took, I might have laughed at his stupidity.
That idiot had been fired from every company he had worked for and had massive gambling debts.
To the point where he turned to drugs just to escape for a few moments.
And now, he had just bitten the hand that was about to help him solve his problems.
With a mindset like that, I didn't need to take revenge.
Karma and his own stupidity would push him straight off the cliff.
'Pathetic.'
I pulled out a bundle of cash—just over ten thousand euros—and handed it to a waiter, pointing at the table where Jose and Bianca were still arguing.
"Serve them whatever they want. Just tell them this is my farewell banquet. The rest is for you."
The waiter stared at me, wide-eyed, speechless, before thanking me profusely.
But I was already gone.
I just wanted to drink myself into oblivion until morning.
With whatever I could find.
I refused to fall back into a long, miserable depression.
I had already lost my parents.
What could possibly hurt more than that?
The betrayal of my best friend and…
'And what? We weren't even together,' I thought, regretting not having had more courage, not leaving my inferiority complex behind me.
"Lorenzo!" Bianca called, walking quickly toward me, her heels clicking rapidly against the floor.
'Leave me alone,' I thought, fighting the urge to turn around, struggling to contain myself.
"Lorenzo," Bianca called again, this time trying to grab my arm with her fingertips.
'Let go of me,' I thought, shaking my arm to prevent her from holding onto it.
"Lorenzo, wait!" she said louder this time, grabbing my arm firmly.
"Go fuck yourself, Bianca," I shouted, suddenly turning around, letting slip, for just a moment, all the rage boiling inside me—the rage I was trying so hard to suppress.
'Your dignity,' I thought, forcing myself once again to calm down, to avoid causing a scene in this restaurant.
'The last thing I need is to end up trending on Twitter.'
"You knew…" I started, but stopped, feeling that if I spoke too much, I wouldn't be able to hold back the storm of emotions raging inside me.
Once I had regained a bit of composure, I repeated:
"You knew."
Then, I added:
"He knew. You both knew. So now, leave me the fuck alone."
I saw the fear in her eyes.
'Keeping your soulmate as a friend while sleeping with the womanizer of the group… that's so cliché, what a fucking—'
SCREECHING BRAKES
TIRES SKIDDING
BAAAAAAM
"LORENZO!" a voice screamed my name as I felt my consciousness rapidly slipping into darkness… too fast.
---
"BIANCA!" I screamed as I woke up with a jolt.
'Damn, it was just a dream, but it felt so real,' I told myself, running a tired hand over my face, still feeling the pain of seeing Bianca and José betray me.
I frowned as I looked at my hand, then rubbed it, but nothing happened. The brown paint on my body wouldn't come off…
'Shit, why are both of my hands brown?' I wondered as I got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to find something that could help me wipe off all this paint.
'It almost looks like it's not paint,' I thought, reaching for a wipe, a smile forming on my lips before adding internally: 'But rather… me who is…'
"BLACK?!" I couldn't help but say as I finally looked into the mirror, which reflected my appearance… or rather…
"Aaaaaaaaaaah!" I screamed as a flood of memories drilled into my skull.
'What the fuck is this shit?' I thought as I remembered not only that I was Lorenzo but also that I was Calvin.
I was a young economics student, the only son of a veteran and a nurse.
Life had put Calvin's family through serious financial struggles, which pushed Calvin… well, me now, to start dealing…
Wait… Calvin… Calvin… Calvin…
'Fuck, where have I heard that name before?' I asked myself, digging through my original memories.
'Calvin the dealer… Yes, Calvin, fuck! He was the Black guy who dies in the very first episode of Fear The Walking Dead after trying to betray his best friend.'
In my past life, I loved that show—until it went to shit after the first three seasons.
So I decided to stop watching, but his death had made me laugh so much because it was the perfect cliché of Black characters in early 2000s cinema.
Dealer and dead in the first episode.
I smirked slightly, finding the situation ironic, before thinking to myself:
'And to think I was a little racist before…'
I stopped dead in my tracks and thought for a long moment: 'Wait, what actually happened to me?'
'Did I reincarnate?'
'Did I transmigrate?'
'Did I fuse with Calvin?'
'Or did I simply take over his soul?'
'And if so, does that make me a murderer?' I wondered, terrified, because I didn't want to have a death on my conscience.
'What would his parents say if they knew that…' Wait… 'Why am I considering his parents as our parents?' I asked myself, finding it strange, as I could feel my thoughts rapidly reorganizing, just like my personality, and it was seriously freaking me out.
'Not to mention the apocalypse…' I thought, placing my hands on my head, completely panicked.
'Shit…' I thought, terrified by the situation.
I didn't have time to dwell on my fate or try to understand in more depth what was happening to me because I suddenly heard my phone ringing.
I turned my head just in time to see that my phone had four missed calls, all from the same person.
'So this is how it's going to start,' I thought, already knowing why Nick was calling me.
I stared at my phone, realizing, just from Nick's calls, that I no longer had time to feel sorry for myself.
Bianca, José, my death, my reincarnation… all this shit would have to wait.
Because right now, the only thing that matters is that I have to survive.
'I am no longer in my old world, Lorenzo Di Marco is dead, Calvin Jasper is dead, and today, I am reborn as a third person formed from these two deceased souls,' I told myself as I headed to the shower to start planning my survival.
---
N.A : Please be nice.😂