Once upon a time, I watched this movie based on a book that asked a very important question, about whether waking up in a different place or different time opened up the possibility of waking up as a different person.

I open my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling, pull myself up to sit down on the side of a surprisingly comfortable bed, I turn to a huge mirror to see a face that isn't mine.

Strangely, I find myself a bit surprised at this. Indeed, if I wasn't as apathetic as I was before the accident, I would have been freaking out already.

Instead, I just mouth a barely-audible 'oh' as I see someone that's not me open my mouth and speak with a baritone that's definitely not the higher-pitched voice I'm used to speaking with.

Before I try out my new voice, I run my tongue along the inside of my mouth, taste something disgusting, and say my first words here.

"What the heck is this?" I gurgle as I pull myself out of bed and notice the trail of a disgusting yellow substance out of the corner of my mouth.

Bathroom it is, then.

Thankfully, this body still has some sort of lingering memory left as I make a beeline to the bathroom and rinse my mouth out with water before brushing my teeth.

As I go through the motions of mundane and daily activity, my thoughts wander a bit, mostly involving wondering what kind of gunk did I have to wash out of my mouth – but it's only a matter of time before I find myself finished and looking at my reflection in the mirror.

Full head of hair, average facial features, physically fit, possibly less than half my age when that drunk driver sent me flying... I'd like to say this is an upgrade from where my body was, the last time I was on this merry-go-round, but I still have to see how that will go.

With that in mind, I walk out of the bathroom and into what looks like a nicely-furnished studio apartment, the faint smell of paint hitting my nostrils as my eyes wander towards the half-finished paintings and hastily-scrawled sketches strewn everywhere.

I almost trip over some dumbbells as I go towards the paintings and drawings and can't help but scrunch up my nose when I lay my eyes on these things.

What kind of talent does this guy have, anyway?

But that aside, given this body's age and the drawings everywhere, I think this guy's some kind of art student... well now.

And, with what I know and what I've been through, no art student worth their salt goes around without a trusty bag with most of their important stuff in it.

After a few minutes of searching, I find the bag, and start poking around to find an identification card: Freshman at Silver Ridges University, Fine Arts... Kain Park.

Interesting. Kain with a "K" instead of a "C"?

I'm about to search the bag further when I hear banging on the door.

"Kain! Can't believe you'd choose today of all days to be sleeping in!" a girl's voice said from the other side of the door.

"Give me a minute to get decent," I call back, as my hand was already on the doorknob by the time I realized my current state of undress.

"Hurry!" she says as I hurriedly search for a pair of boxers and a shirt to put on.

A rather attractive girl wearing the university's uniform for girls is looming before me as I open the door, her arms folded as she wears a look of disappointment on her face.

"Come in?" I ask hesitantly, and she takes the cue to barge in and look around my apartment.

"Heavens," she mutters before raising her voice again. "What have you been doing over the weekend?"

I shrug.

"This and that..." I answer noncommittally. "It's all a blur to me – what's all the racket about, anyway?"

"You... you don't know? Today's the Art Theory midterm, and if you flunk this one like you've flunked every other Art major, they're throwing you out on your ass!"

"What—" was all I could reply before she inerrantly found a bath towel to throw at my face before frog-marching me back to the bathroom.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

"Shower, now!" she declared imperiously while dragging me. "The test is in an hour."

"Maybe I'll go faster if you wash my back?" I ask cheekily, and before I bother to see how she'd react, I close the door to the bathroom behind her and immediately take said shower.

***

Tessa Lee was at a loss.

She had taken on the challenge of being Kain Park's study buddy on account of their circumstances, hoping to both make their way through art school by helping each other out.

Unfortunately, this arrangement had ended up extremely one-sided, because everything she taught the trust fund baby to help him get through art school just seemed to go in one ear and out the other.

She would have been fine with it, had her fortunes not been tied up with his – if he failed this test, not only would he then be thrown out of Silver Ridge, but she would lose her scholarship as well.

It was one thing to endure his personality 'quirks', but it was another thing to deal with the comments on her appearance – nothing she hadn't heard since she was an early bloomer, but with her proximity to Kain Park, it was something she had to deal with nearly all the time.

And let's not mention how hard said trust fund baby partied.

She'd done what she could to make sure his lifestyle wouldn't put their studies in Silver Ridge in jeopardy, but with this test looking like another colossal failure, it wouldn't be enough.

Still, there was that one comment he made earlier, about washing her back... she had heard her fair share of bawdy humor from Kain Park, but there was something about this one that surprised her.

He was joking when he said it: no malice or lasciviousness whatsoever.

The running of the shower ending just as his crappy falsetto did to a really old anime song brought her out of her thoughts.

***

I stepped out of the shower, and the girl before me... wait, I read the name "Tessa Lee" as 'project partner' on some of Kain Park's documents.

All right, let's give this the good old college try.

"All done, Tessa!" I declare as I triumphantly emerge out of the bathroom and into my apartment... only to get my uniform shoved in my face for my trouble.

"No time to tidy up, this is our – no, YOUR last chance!" she imposes on me, and I quickly get the rest of the morning's business taken care of, all while she's keeping a wary eye on me.

I turn away from her. Don't want to catch myself staring, because honestly, that expression she's wearing is pretty cute.

***

Kain's acting weird.

Not weird, more like acting weirder than usual.

If I don't count the thing he said before he took his shower, there's him buying both of us a hurried breakfast of some toasted dim sum meat buns before we take a five-minute walk towards Silver Ridge's Freshman Hall, where the Fine Arts midterm is due to take place in half an hour.

He was barely out the door when I handed him the review notes I took for the Art Theory midterm together with his phone, and the most infuriating thing about this isn't how out of it he is, it's how lightly he's taking this whole affair!

Sure, it's just five minutes from his apartment to the testing center, and the food cart's just outside his building... but at this point, he absolutely can't afford to be taking the scenic route on the way while just skimming the notes I photocopied!

He even stops to pull out a pen and scribble his own notes on the sides! Is he even taking this seriously? We're both about to be thrown out on our behinds here!

We're now just outside the testing center, and while I've done what I can to keep this partnership going, I still have to do what I can to keep myself in the running here.

Wait, what's with him now?

He just gave me back my notes, why is he just... strutting into the classroom?

And why did he just turn and give me a wink? He's the one who's supposed to be freaking out before exams, not me!

Still, though... that wink.

It's even weirder than Kain's usual behavior. Almost like he wants to tell me that everything's going to be all right.

The proctor's heading towards me with my paper now, and for a minute, I almost believe that he has everything in hand.

Everything is riding on this one exam: this isn't just my future here, it's also his... so I have to do my best for the both of us.

***

Man, I must have been in a really bad funk if I can't quite recall what the year was when I got run over by a drunk driver.

Furthermore, with all these notes... I don't want to brag, but I've already been here, know all of this, and I even have the t-shirt to prove it. Art Theory's one of those subjects that tell you the 'rules' of painting you need to master, before you can start bending and even breaking them.

Unless you're a madman like Pollock or just plain mad, like Van Gogh.

Some theorists even said that Van Gogh's madness was due to tapping into the same vein of creativity HP freaking Lovecraft did... yeah, but that's not relevant to this Art Theory midterm, though it's fun to speculate and all that.

Speaking of midterm, this test is ten years too early to try and challenge me, as that saying goes. Won't even make me break a sweat.

I'm examining this weird thing Tessa called my phone in between skimming those notes when we get to the classroom.

I don't know what got over me, but with everything I already knew, this test was going to be easy, so I enter the classroom and swagger towards my seat like it was a literal walk in the park.

I put the "phone" away along with my notes, bring out my pencil and put my game face on.

The proctor, a severe-looking middle-aged man whose face I can barely remember from somewhere, gives me a look that says 'oh, you think you know what you're doing, huh', and I give him a confident smile in return.

I turn to where Tessa is sitting, and with how she's carrying on, she looks like she's close to becoming a nervous wreck. Why wouldn't she? It's obvious she's worrying for two people.

Might as well show her that I've got this.

Turn towards her, give her a smile, and wink.

There we go, everything's taken care of – all that's left is the Art Theory midterm.

The proctor hands me my paper, and my eyes nearly bug out at the questions.

I strongly resist the urge to laugh out loud.

This is what they're calling an 'Art Theory' midterm? I could answer this exam upside-down and blindfolded!

"Exam starts in two minutes," the proctor announced, and a savage grin blooms on my face.

I'm not just going to ace this exam – I'm going to slay this exam, cook it, eat it, and put it up on social media, to boot.

The buzzer signals the start of the exam, and I put my pencil to paper.

Showtime.