Chapter One – The Second Birthday
The boy awoke to the faint hum of the ceiling fan, the scent of polished wood, and the distant call of a bird outside. Sunlight poured through the curtains, soft and golden, as if the world itself wanted to greet him. He blinked once, twice — and then froze.
Memories.
Not of toys, not of yesterday's cake, but of another life. A small apartment in India. His parents' tired faces, their laughter, their struggles. The glow of a cheap television. The sound of rain hitting rusted tin sheets. And then, his own death at twenty-four, sudden and quiet, swallowed by sleep.
He sat up, small hands trembling. His reflection in the wardrobe mirror showed the round face of a five-year-old boy, hair slightly messy, eyes too large for his tiny frame. But behind them, he felt the weight of two decades. He was no longer just a child.
The door creaked open.
"Good morning, champ!" His father's deep voice carried warmth, mixed with the faint exhaustion of long nights at Universal Studios. He still wore yesterday's suit pants, his shirt undone at the collar. "You're up early today."
The boy swallowed. "Yeah… I just—woke up." His voice was high-pitched, childish. It startled him, hearing those words leave a mouth so small.
His father chuckled, stepping into the room with the casual confidence of a man who lived among movie sets and studio lights. "Five years old now. You're growing fast. Maybe too fast for me to keep up."
Behind him, his mother appeared, hair neatly tied, a briefcase tucked under one arm. She had the air of someone who belonged in a courtroom, sharp-eyed but softening as she looked at her son. "Don't let your father fool you," she said with a smile. "He secretly hopes you'll never grow up."
The boy looked at them both — these strangers who were now his parents. Love radiated from them, genuine and unconditional. His chest tightened. He missed his old parents, the ones who had raised him in India. For a heartbeat, grief threatened to spill. But then he steadied himself.
This was his second chance. His new life.
He forced a smile, small but real. "I'll try not to grow too fast."
They laughed, mistaking his words for childish playfulness. His father ruffled his hair. His mother kissed his forehead before rushing off to work. And just like that, the morning slipped into the ordinary rhythm of family life.
But deep inside, the boy knew nothing about his life was ordinary anymore. He was twenty-four and five all at once. He remembered the world as it had been — and the world as it was going to be.
As his father left for the studio, and the house grew quiet again, he sat by the window, staring at the sky.
1975, he thought. Jaws has just come out. The Cold War is still raging. The internet is decades away. And I… I'm here, five years old, alive again.
A smile tugged at his lips, sharper this time.
This time, no mistakes. This time, I'll live better. Step by step.