Life didn't just suck.
It felt like it woke up every morning and chose him specifically.
The alarm rang at 6:00 AM sharp.
He didn't move.
It rang again.
And again.
By the fourth time, he finally reached out from under the blanket, eyes barely open, and slammed his hand on his phone.
Silence.
He stared at the ceiling.
Blank.
Quiet.
Cold.
"…another day."
His voice sounded tired, like he'd already lived through everything the day had to offer.
He grabbed his phone.
12%.
No notifications.
He opened social media anyway.
Big mistake.
Couples.
Smiling faces. Matching outfits. Hands held tightly like they were afraid of letting go.
One post read, "Three years together and still not tired of you 💕"
He stared at it longer than he should have.
Then locked his phone.
"…must be nice."
He said it like a joke.
But it didn't sound like one.
School wasn't better.
It never was.
He walked through the gates like a ghost. People brushed past him without noticing. Conversations flowed around him, never including him.
He existed.
That was about it.
First period.
Math.
The teacher called out names for answers.
His wasn't one of them.
Of course not.
He wasn't the smart kid.
He wasn't the funny kid.
He wasn't anything people remembered.
By the time lunch came, he already felt drained.
He sat alone, as usual, poking at his food without much interest.
Across the cafeteria, a group of girls burst into laughter.
At the center of it was a guy from his class.
Same age.
Same uniform.
Different life.
The guy said something, nothing special, and they laughed again. One of the girls lightly hit his arm, smiling like he was the most interesting person in the world.
He watched quietly.
"…what's the difference?" he muttered.
He tried before.
He really did.
"Hey, do you have a pen?"
"Yes."
"Can I…"
"No."
"…oh."
Or even worse.
"I like your—"
"I have a boyfriend."
"I was going to say your bag."
"Still."
He looked down at his tray.
Food untouched.
Appetite gone.
"…yeah. That sounds about right."
After school, he didn't rush home.
There was no reason to.
Home wasn't bad.
It just wasn't… anything.
Quiet.
Empty.
Same walls.
Same silence.
So he walked.
Hands in his pockets.
Head slightly lowered.
No destination.
Just moving so he didn't have to sit still with his thoughts.
That's when he noticed him.
An old man sitting on a bench.
Still.
Calm.
Like he'd been there longer than the street itself.
Not begging.
Not talking.
Just watching.
"…please don't talk to me," he whispered under his breath as he walked past.
Of course, life didn't listen.
"You look like life rejected you personally."
He stopped.
Closed his eyes for a second.
Then slowly turned.
"…what?"
The old man looked at him with a small smile. Not a kind one. Not a mean one either.
Just… knowing.
"…you always start conversations like that?" he asked.
"Only when I'm right."
"…wow. Okay."
He almost walked away.
He should have.
But something about the old man's voice made him pause.
"Tell me something," the old man said.
"…what now?"
"What do you want?"
He blinked.
"…what kind of question is that?"
"A simple one."
He looked away.
Scoffed a little.
"…you really want the honest answer?"
"Yes."
He hesitated.
For longer than expected.
Then sighed.
"…I don't want to feel like this anymore."
"Like what?"
"…like I don't matter."
The words came out quieter than he intended.
"…like I could disappear and nothing would change."
For a moment, the world felt… still.
Like everything paused just to hear that.
The old man reached into his coat.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Then held out his hand.
Two pills rested on his palm.
One red.
One blue.
Perfect.
Too perfect.
"…what is that?" he asked, eyes narrowing.
"An opportunity."
"…yeah, I'm leaving."
"One of them can give you what you want."
He froze.
Slowly turned back.
"…what do you mean?"
The old man tilted his hand slightly, the pills catching the light.
"I had two pills. I mixed them up."
"…that doesn't sound safe."
"One of them will make you irresistible to women."
His heart skipped.
"…you're joking."
"No."
"…and the other one?"
The old man looked at him.
Really looked at him.
Then spoke.
"The other will make men fear you."
Silence.
"…fear me?"
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
"…yeah okay. That's not suspicious at all."
This was stupid.
Obviously stupid.
But…
What if it wasn't?
He looked at the pills again.
Red.
Blue.
So simple.
"…which one is which?"
"I told you. I mixed them up."
"…you're serious?"
"Very."
His chest felt tight.
Not from fear.
From something else.
Hope.
"…so it's just a guess?"
"Yes."
"…and you're just giving this away?"
"I'm curious."
"…about what?"
"You."
That answer didn't help.
At all.
He looked at his reflection faintly in a nearby window.
Same face.
Same tired eyes.
Same life.
"…if this is fake, nothing changes."
"Correct."
"…and if it's real…"
"Then your life will not be the same again."
His hand slowly reached out.
He didn't even realize he was doing it.
"…fine."
His fingers closed around one of the pills.
He didn't think too hard.
If he did, he might back out.
He chose.
Blue.
"…you're really doing this," the old man said softly.
"…yeah."
He stared at the pill for a second.
Then tossed it into his mouth.
Swallowed.
Nothing.
No light.
No power.
No sudden feeling.
"…wow," he said dryly. "I feel exactly the same."
"Not everything happens immediately."
"…sure."
He rolled his eyes and started walking.
"…thanks for nothing."
Behind him, the old man watched.
Quiet.
Still.
Then suddenly, his eyes widened.
"…oh no."
He looked at his empty hand.
Then back at the boy.
"…no, no… that's not right…"
He stood up quickly.
Faster than someone his age should move.
"The red one was on the left…"
His voice dropped.
"…and he took the right."
A long breath left him.
"…that boy…"
He looked toward the distance.
"…is going to cause problems."
Meanwhile, he kept walking.
Kicking a small stone along the road.
"…yeah, definitely fake."
He muttered.
Nothing changed.
No confidence boost.
No sudden charm.
Nothing.
"…of course."
A group of guys approached from ahead.
Loud.
Laughing.
Normal.
As they got closer, one of them suddenly went quiet.
"…yo, why'd you stop?" another asked.
"I…"
The first guy stared.
At him.
"…hey?"
He raised a hand slightly.
"…you good?"
The guy took a step back.
A real step back.
"…what?"
One of his friends frowned.
But even he hesitated.
They all looked at him now.
Not annoyed.
Not judging.
Afraid.
"…did I do something?"
No response.
"…let's just go," one of them said quickly.
"…yeah."
They walked past him faster than before.
No more laughing.
No more talking.
Just silence.
"…okay…"
He stood there.
Confused.
"…that was weird."
He kept walking.
But now, he paid attention.
A man across the street glanced at him.
Then quickly looked away.
Another bumped into him.
"S-sorry."
His voice shook.
"…it's fine?"
The man didn't even wait.
He hurried off.
His steps slowed.
"…what is going on…"
He whispered.
He stopped near a store window.
Looked at his reflection.
Same face.
Same body.
Same everything.
"…nothing changed."
But his chest felt heavier.
Because deep down…
He knew that wasn't true.
For the first time in his life…
People were reacting to him.
Just not the way he wanted.
"…don't tell me…"
His stomach dropped.
"…I picked the wrong one."
Far away, the old man smiled faintly.
"Not wrong," he said quietly.
"…just not what you expected."