St. Vincent's University Hospital - That same night

"So you're telling me you felt sick, ran out of the club into a side alley to vomit, where someone bit your neck and claimed they'd kill you, and as a response you murdered the guy, by stabbing him repeatedly with a large wooden stake you happened to find lying around." The policeman said, exasperated. He stood with his forefinger and thumb rubbing his eyes in frustration.

"Yes," Aliard nodded. Lilith stood by his side, quietly looking at the ground. The white walls of a hospital surround the three.

"And this is definitely true, despite the fact that the alarmed door you claim you went through didn't trigger. And, by the way we checked and it's working perfectly fine." The policeman continued, getting more and more frustrated.

"Yes, that's true," Aliard nodded, swaying. Aliard's bloodied and vomit covered clothes contrasting starkly against the hospital entrance lobby which is oddly quiet.

"And the CCTV conveniently didn't catch any sight of you, how exactly? Can you turn invisible too?" The policeman took a deep breath, fingers twitching at his side.

"I don't know, somebody must have hacked it or something! I swear this is the truth," Aliard protested, "Look at my shirt, There's blood all over it!" Aliard jumped up, pulling at his clothes.

"The tests came back saying that other than your blood, the rest is fake blood. Dunno what it's made of but it's fake," the policeman rolled his eyes, "look kid, there's no blood in the alley, not even any vomit. Go home and keep your nose clean from now on, yeah?" The policeman folded his arms.

"Like you said, the tests came back conclusive. I was not and am not on any drugs," Aliard raised his voice, visibly irritated. "Why don't you do your job and investigate this properly, this is serious!" Aliard shouted.

"Alright that's enough of that. Get out," the policeman grabbed Aliard's arm and pushed him toward the door. "If you come across any information that wasn't found in a novel feel free to call the police again." He shouted after them.

"That fucker. What a bastard," Aliard muttered angrily. He grabbed Lilith's hand and strode toward a taxi angrily. "Rathmines, Bevel Road, number 7," he said to the driver as they got in. He tore his shirt off angrily, rolling it up into a ball before clutching it tightly. He sighed and rested his head against Lilith's shoulder.

"At least we're safe Aliard," she says to him. Giving his hand a squeeze.

Aliard smiles weakly and then freezes.

The change will commence in 30:00 minutes.

"Can you see that?" Aliard asks, wide eyed. The timer starts ticking down, second by second.

"See what?" She replies, "Aliard are you sure you're okay?" She continues.

"You don't see the floating timer?" Aliard questions, eyebrows raised.

"No, no I don't see a floating timer. I think the stress of performing is getting to you." She says, worry written on her face.

"Performing doesn't stress me out. Performing never has. Piano doesn't get me fired up, okay? We've gone through this before." He sits up, agitated. "Piano does not stress me." He enunciates each world slowly. "It's basically what I was born to do," he stares out the window, arms crossed. The timer completely forgotten.

Stolen novel; please report.

"I'm sorry okay, gimme your hand," Lilith says, prying his arms apart and grabbing a hand. He resists weakly, before yielding. "I love you," she coos softly, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I love you too. More than anything," He replies, resting his head on hers.

Like a ghost, the taxi makes its through late-night Dublin, a lonely, quiet traveler, unnoticed and uncaring.

Eventually the taxi turns onto Bevel Road and slowly rolls to a stop outside number 7.

A tall brick georgian apartment looms, tall and narrow windows adorn the building, a garden full of dim colours in the night courts the apartment. Roses, Snowdrops, Bluebells, Daffodils, Prims and more sway lazily in the night breeze.

The taxi driver raises his eyebrows, "cute," he says, while he turns to face the two.

Who lay sleeping against each other, hand in hand. Moonlight streaming in reflecting gently on their relaxed faces, rings shimmering paley in the moonlight.

"Cute," he says again. "Alright, we're here," he says gently.

Neither of the two stir. Their chests rise and fall, the soft sound of wind murmuring through leaves drifts through the car.

The taxi driver clears his throat, and with a bit more force says "we're here."

Again, there's no movement.

He sighs.

"OI YOU TWO SHITS I SAID WE'RE HERE." He roars, the two jump in fright, grumbling.

"Here," Aliard hands him the fare as they get out.

"Have a nice evening," the driver smiles at them as he slinks off into the night.

"Fucker," Aliard mutters as he walks through the garden with Lilith; moonlight dances softly across her face, still glittering from her makeup. The trees and plants sway gently behind her, soft green and muted colours dancing as the wind brushes through the flowers. To Aliard, it almost seems like the whole night was just a dream. Maybe I'm dreaming right now, he thinks.

"Come on," Lilith smiles at him, "it's cold outside, brr," she rubs her arms, mock shivering as she giggles.

The clatter of shoes on wooden floors echoes through the apartment. It's dead quiet, they shuffle together into the living room and collapse into each other on the couch, whispering I love you to each other before dropping into a deep sleep. The gentle pitter patter of light rain begins as they doze off. They paint an idyllic picture, snuggled together asleep in a cute apartment; pictures litter the walls of the two, potted plants and cosy furniture adorns the room. The enchanting room echoes softly, the gentle rains. A perfect picture matched by perfect sounds; peaceful breathing from soft lips, a teddy sitting in the corner, a perfect setting.

Shattered by screaming.

Time remaining 00:00

   Change beginning.

 Aliard rolled off the couch screaming, hands tearing at his skin as he did.

Lilith jumped off the couch, reaching out to him, "What's wrong Aliard?" She asks, chest heaving. She grabs him and tries to hold his hands down, revealing gouges from his nails along his face and neck.

"WHAT'S WRONG," she screams at him, shaking his arms, "what's wrong," she sobs, struggling to hold his arms down. "ALIARD" she screams again, looking down at his bloodied face. Blood drips from the gouges on his face and arms, splattering as he jerks and flails under her. Tears strike his face, but he struggles unreacting.

Until he stops.

The jerking and squirming stops, as suddenly as it had begun. He lies, breathing deeply, unmoving.

"Aliard?" Lilith questions, hesitant to let go of his arms. She stares at his bloodied face, waiting.

The pitter patter of rain picks up, stronger now than earlier. Branches of trees brush off the windows, moonlight barely seeping through the night clouds. The blood eerily drips, from Aliard's pale face; a disturbing red smeared across it, marring the peaceful sight.

Lilith sighs and drops his arms and makes to move off of him, but collapses onto the floor; her arms unable to take her weight. She lies on the floor breathing heavily, her body a weary wreck, and simply stares at the ceiling.

Utterly exhausted, she turns to Aliard who is breathing deeply, seemingly asleep. She sighs again and lays her head on his chest, too tired to do anything else.

"Everything's okay, everything's fine" she mumbles.

At least the pain is gone, Aliard thinks. He's entirely unaware of what's happening, in a state of comatose.

            Change has begun Welcome to the Real World, Aliard White.