I am Pao, a cipher in the ledger of existence, until the fall. A sudden shove, a tumbling descent down the unforgiving stairs, and the floodgates of memory burst open. Fragments of a life not lived here, a world not my own, cascaded into my consciousness.
This world feels borrowed, a fleeting sojourn in a land where I am but a shadow. An outsider, adrift in a sea of faces, none of which reflect my true self.
Here, brilliance and beauty intertwine effortlessly, the handsome and the radiant drawn together in an effortless dance. And I? I am the solitary note, the discordant melody in their harmonious symphony.
"A loner, Pao? Merely a soul unskilled in the art of expression." The words echo from the depths of my fractured memories. But there is more, a chilling diagnosis: Stage 3 cancer. A month, the doctors say. A mere thirty days before the curtain falls on this borrowed life.
Perhaps it is a blessing. A swift return to the home I yearn for, the world where I truly belong. The thought sparks a flicker of joy, a fragile ember in the encroaching darkness.
I resolve to embrace these final days, to seize the fleeting moments of freedom. But then, a whisper on the wind: names, familiar and achingly distant.
"James, Elsa, William, Yan, JR, Andrey…"
Are they truly here? My friends, reborn in this alien landscape?
James: "Did you hear that?"
Elsa: "Someone's calling us."
Yan: "Let's go, I'm hungry."
William: "What's wrong with you two?"
Elsa: "No, wait! I'm sure someone called us."
James: "…"
The sound of their voices, so close yet impossibly far, stirs a tempest within me. Should I reach out? Risk shattering the illusion?
No. This is not my Earth. These are not my friends.
Damn. They heard me. Even in this world, they possess the same allure, the same captivating grace. And I, the awkward, the unremarkable, remain an outsider.
It is better this way. To fade into the background, a ghost in their vibrant lives. My time here is short, a mere blink in the grand tapestry of existence.
I must go home.
And with that realization, a profound weariness settles upon me, a longing for a world that may never be mine again.
