Segment 1 — Morning, Joblessness, and Existential Drift
Avery Manuel-Liman woke to the familiar rattle of tricycles outside her family home. The engines sputtered unevenly, a horn blared somewhere down the street, and a neighbor called out a greeting. The morning sun streamed through the thin curtains of her room, lighting up dust particles that floated lazily in the air.
She blinked at the ceiling, pulling the blanket closer around her shoulders. She was twenty-two now, freshly licensed, and technically a "real adult." But somehow, she still felt like a kid trapped in someone else's life.
Her room was exactly as she had left it four years ago: tidy, practical, with books stacked neatly on the desk and a small mirror above it. Nothing fancy. Nothing personal. Avery had never cared much for decoration—her priorities had always been simple: study, achieve, survive.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she ran her fingers over the warm, brown skin of her slightly chubby cheeks in the mirror. Tomboyish hoodie, jeans, hair in a tight ponytail. No makeup. Stiff posture. Safe. Predictable. Invisible.
Her younger sister Althea bounded down the stairs, music blaring from her phone. She was confident, stylish, and expressive—the exact opposite of Avery. Four years younger, but seemingly braver, bolder, louder. Avery smiled faintly, half-proud, half-envious.
"Morning, Ate," Althea called from the stairs. "Coffee's on the table. Don't burn it like last time."
Avery let out a soft chuckle. "Thanks, Althea." She swung her legs off the bed and rubbed her face.
Today was just another day of… nothing. No job. No classes. No clear path. Just a small apartment in a quiet street and the hum of the neighborhood going about its life. Avery sighed. Life had moved forward for everyone else. And she? She had stalled.
Segment 2 — Flashbacks to Achievements and Regret
Avery made her way to the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She stared out the window at the quiet street, letting memories drift in.
High school valedictorian. College cum laude. Board exam passed. Check, check, check. And yet… her chest tightened. All the effort, all the late nights, all the discipline—and she had fallen short of what she had wanted most: being extraordinary.
She remembered staring at her college transcript, stomach sinking, realizing that missing summa by one subject had left her feeling… incomplete. And the board exam, though she had passed, had been another quiet disappointment. She had wanted to top it all, to prove herself. But she had settled for "enough."
Avery sipped her coffee slowly, feeling the bitter warmth. The reflection of her younger self came to mind—timid, careful, hesitant. She had always measured every word, every move, every risk. And now, she realized, that caution had cost her.
Segment 3 — Emotional and Physical Collapse
By mid-morning, Avery found herself slouched on the couch in the living room, staring blankly at the wall. Her parents were busy with chores in the kitchen. Althea was practicing for some performance in her room. The house was quiet, yet full of life.
And Avery felt… small.
Her mind ran in circles: Should I look for another job? What if I fail again? Am I capable? Am I enough?
The questions piled up, and her chest ached. Her hands trembled slightly as she wrapped her arms around herself. Tears threatened to spill, but she blinked them away. She had been trained to be practical, to hold it together, to stay "safe." But the weight of regret pressed hard.
She remembered all the clubs she hadn't joined, all the debates she had avoided, all the chances she had not taken. Her body felt heavy, exhausted—not from work, but from thinking too much, feeling too much.
She pressed her palms to her eyes and whispered, "I just wanted to be more."
Segment 4 — Hint of Longing and Setup for Time Travel
Then, as if the universe had listened, a thought flickered in her mind. What if… I could start over?
A do-over, real and complete. Back to eighteen, back to college, back to all the opportunities she had missed. Back with all the knowledge she had now.
The thought made her heart pound. Impossible? Probably. Ridiculous? Definitely. But thrilling.
She imagined her younger self, timid, careful, hesitant. And then her present self, wiser, strategic, capable. A chance to be brave. A chance to take risks. A chance to… really live.
Avery straightened, shoulders stiffening with resolve. Her gaze drifted to the window. The street outside looked ordinary, sunny, unremarkable. But inside, her chest hummed with anticipation.
She whispered under her breath: "Alright… let's do this."
For the first time in months, Avery felt a spark. A glimmer of hope. A chance to leave behind "just enough" and step into the life she had always wanted.
The morning light spilled across the room, warming her face. And for the first time in a long while, Avery felt… ready.