'Did I die?'
Henry repeated that question countless times in his mind as his consciousness drifted through a completely black space. He no longer knew how many times he had recalled his life in this void.
Is this what comes after death?
He surprised himself at the calm he felt in this situation. It was as if he were relaxed all the time in this strange place. As if nothing could affect him anymore, after all, he had died in a plane crash at the age of 27.
He died just when he had reached the prime of his life, or was about to step into it.
Henry lost his parents at the age of seven and was raised by his loving grandparents in Nebraska. They passed away when he was 18.
For that reason, he left Nebraska and moved to Los Angeles, California, the home of the most influential film industry in the world: Hollywood.
From a young age, he always performed, often taking the lead roles in his school plays.
He realized early on that acting was his passion. Unfortunately, whether due to luck or lack of opportunity, he never landed a child role that could launch his career, unlike other actors who had gotten big breaks at an early age.
His acting career in Hollywood began when he was 18, but he had to fight hard to land good roles.
Hollywood is fiercely competitive, crushing many dreams, but Henry never gave up.
In the early years, he had to work one or even two jobs besides acting, otherwise he would have starved. The money he earned as an extra was very little.
Finally, after trying again and again, he succeeded in two consecutive films, and the third, filmed when he was 26, gave him the role that launched him. That film was nominated for several Oscars. Henry delivered the best performance of the film and was nominated for Best Supporting Actor.
Although his chances of winning were slim, facing off against established stars, unlike him who had just landed his first significant role, Henry didn't mind. After that film, offers poured in, and he had proven his talent as an actor.
The only downside was that he got typecast as the villain, when what he truly loved was playing different kinds of characters, not being boxed into one.
But fate is cruel. Just when he was at the golden age of his life, with job offers raining down, money in his pocket, and growing fame, he died in a plane crash.
At some point, after so much darkness, Henry saw a light, and he began to follow it with all his strength, if strength was even something he had in this state.
Is this the famous light at the end of the tunnel?
The light was blinding. Instinctively, he closed his eyes, and to his surprise, darkness returned.
The harsh blinding light faded away. Henry tried to open his eyes with difficulty, and to his shock, it worked. He found himself in an unfamiliar room.
It looked like the living room of a house. A large television hung on the wall. A coffee table sat in front of him, covered with scattered bottles of alcohol and a white powder that Henry ignored, too surprised by something else, he had a body again.
His hands were white, very pale and delicate. Not feminine, but clearly not his.
'Did I go back to the past?' Henry wondered in confusion. But he quickly discarded that theory, because the body he was looking at wasn't his. He could tell at a glance. These hands didn't belong to him.
Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed his head, as if pierced by a needle. It was intense, but nothing compared to dying in a plane crash, so he endured it.
They were memories, memories of the body he now inhabited.
His name was Owen Ashford. 20 years old. Son of a wealthy family in California, though not millionaires. Spoiled all his life and very popular in school. The only thing he had in common with Henry was his passion for acting since childhood, performing in many plays and landing important roles.
But unlike Henry, who had been hardworking and disciplined, Owen was arrogant, boastful, and a mess: a womanizer, a drunk, and even a bit of a bully. His parents' money and his good looks had coddled him.
'What kind of bastard did I end up in?' Henry thought, frowning.
Owen had lived his entire high school life like a king, popular, lead roles in plays, and more.
When he graduated, somehow he managed to get into the University of Southern California (USC) – School of Dramatic Arts, a program worth about $85,000 a year. Clearly, his parents paid the bill.
But reality hit Owen hard there. At USC, he wasn't the king anymore. His acting talent was only normal in that environment. Many of his classmates were better than him in acting and in other subjects, so his progress was slow, and he even failed several classes.
Although part of this was because Owen never tried to improve his acting, his talent wasn't bad at all, but if you don't do anything with it, if you don't try to get better, you waste your gift.
Faced with this situation, Owen treated studying as a secondary, boring task and instead focused on the pleasures of being a young adult. With the money his parents gave him and his good looks, he went from party to party, drowning himself in alcohol and women.
This went on for two years until he was expelled from the university for several reasons, too many absences, bad grades... He became the family's disappointment.
Being the laughingstock and disappointment to everyone, Owen sank further into his vices and fell into the world of drugs. This was partly the fault of the people he surrounded himself with, who were all in that world, but of course also his own.
Sadly, or not, Owen died of a cocaine overdose at the young age of 20 in his parents' house.
Henry couldn't believe that Owen had given up just because of those setbacks! He had fought since he was 18, relying only on himself, chasing his dream in Hollywood while breaking his back working several part-time jobs.
This spoiled kid gave up at the very first obstacle. And it wasn't even a devastating obstacle, he just realized he wasn't the center of the world, that there were people better than him. Which was logical, considering he never put effort into improving his acting skills. His talent wasn't bad, but it needed polishing and real effort to shine.
'I guess that's better for me. Rest in peace, Owen,' thought Henry, offering a simple prayer.
Henry felt nothing for Owen's memories, only curiosity. They were just fragments, glimpses of another life that never touched him deeply. It was like watching a story unfold on a movie screen.
He didn't feel much empathy for Owen either, since from his perspective, Owen had committed many questionable acts. There was no fusion, no symbiosis, the memories of Owen were just information, nothing more.
'So that's cocaine?' Henry thought with a grimace, eyeing the coffee table where several lines of white powder were spread out.
As he stared at the cocaine in disgust, the sound of a door opening echoed through the house. Then, several footsteps approached the living room where Henry was.
"Owen, what is this?" asked a deep, confused voice, taking in the sight of the living room, once a place of relaxation and TV watching, now in chaos.
The room was a complete disaster. Broken furniture and lamps, the large expensive rug stained with what looked like spilled beer and vomit. Filth everywhere. Dozens of half-empty beer bottles scattered around. And the crowning touch, several lines of cocaine on the coffee table.
Henry turned his head. Not because he was called Owen, just by reflex. He saw three people: two women and one man.
The man was tall and broad-shouldered, middle-aged, with a neat beard and well-groomed hair. His gray eyes glared directly at Owen. It was Owen's father: Edward.
Beside him stood a beautiful blonde woman, also middle-aged, with long curly hair and blue eyes staring at Owen in confusion. This was Owen's mother: Elizabeth.
Lastly, a girl around 16, with golden-blonde hair and blue eyes. She looked like a younger copy of the woman, except her expression was more arrogant and haughty. Unlike Elizabeth, who carried herself with elegance and kindness. This was Owen's younger sister: Sarah.
Henry understood this was Owen's family. He didn't know what to say, so he just stared at them in uncomfortable silence.
He didn't feel any closeness to these people to call them Dad, Mom, and sister.
"Answer me, Owen. What happened here?" Edward finally spoke, breaking the silence. His brow was furrowed, and his gaze burned into his youngest son with growing fury.
He already knew what had happened here! His stupid son had thrown a party, disgraced the family, and was wasting his life on vices.
Edward stepped closer to Owen and noticed the lines of cocaine on the table. Seeing this, he could no longer hold back his rage. This time, his son had crossed a line that should never have been crossed.
"You idiot, bringing that garbage into our house!" Edward shouted furiously as he grabbed Owen by the collar of his shirt.
Despite being fifty years old, Edward was very strong, always an enthusiast of weightlifting and the gym. He lifted his scrawny son with one hand, and looking down at him, he noticed the white powder on his son's nose. That only enraged him further.
"Wait—"
Before Henry could say anything more, Edward threw a powerful punch and released him, making him crash to the floor pathetically.
'I didn't do that…' Henry thought, feeling the pain in his face and the metallic taste of blood dripping from his nose.
"Dear, stop!" Elizabeth cried, restraining Edward just as he was about to continue the beating.
Because of that alone, Henry immediately took a liking to the kind-faced woman.
"Oh, brother, this time you've really outdone yourself. Well done, cocaine. What's next?" Sarah said, watching the drama unfold.
She had never thought her brother would sink so low, to the point of bringing drugs into their parents' house.
'He must have forgotten we were coming back from Miami today,' Sarah thought, shaking her head inwardly.
"Sarah, don't say such things! Go to your room, right now," Elizabeth said in an irrefutable tone.
Sarah grimaced in resignation, but seeing her mother's face, she decided not to argue and obey.
"I'm not a child anymore," she muttered irritably as she climbed the stairs. However, she stopped halfway. She wasn't going to miss a spectacle of this caliber.
"Get out of this house, Owen! And don't you dare come back! From now on I won't tolerate any more of your stupidity," Edward said, his voice angry but steadier thanks to his wife stopping him.
"You're on your own now!" he added.
Henry stood up as best he could and wiped the blood from his nose, staring at Edward.
'Fine, if you'll allow me…' he thought, turning around and walking quickly toward the door.
In the short exchange with Owen's family, he hadn't opened his mouth once. He truly didn't know what to say. The best thing was to be cast out and never see them again, otherwise they might realize their son had changed too drastically, treating them like strangers.
As for the punch and being banished, he felt no resentment toward Edward. In his place, Henry would have been even harsher and wouldn't have waited so long to give Owen a beating.
Edward, Elizabeth, and Sarah watched in surprise as Owen left the house in silence and haste.
Edward couldn't help but glance at his wife, exchanging perplexed looks. Their son Owen had always been arrogant and prideful; he never let things end so easily. But this time, he had left without saying a single word, which was very strange to them.
"Did the drugs affect his behavior?" Sarah asked loudly, one hand on her chin.
"Go to your room, young lady!" Elizabeth exclaimed, and Sarah darted up the stairs at full speed.
Edward collapsed onto the sofa and sighed in exhaustion. It wasn't pleasant to see his son in such a state, to have hit him, cast him out, and then watch him flee while looking at him as if he were a stranger.
Elizabeth sat down beside him, hugging him with teary eyes, but she said nothing. In the past, she had always been the one to defend Owen, the one who spoiled him the most, but this time he had crossed the line, bringing drugs into their home while Sarah lived there, and with them as well.
Meanwhile, Henry, or Owen, walked out of the house with a smile despite the uncomfortable situation he had just faced. The punch had shaken him out of his daze from having come back to life.
He had another chance! He had transmigrated! He could continue with his life and his dream. After all, who doesn't want to live?
'This time I'll make it,' Henry thought, clenching his fist with eyes full of ambition.
...
Hi everyone, this is a new story. Speaking of the love interest, I was thinking that since it's the world of show business, the mc will go through several relationships (not many, he won't be a womanizer), but also not to the point where the first girlfriend he has is the end of the road. Share your suggestions, I'll read them :D
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