It was suffocating.
Every breath he took was like swallowing sharp blades, as if every inch of his very being was protesting against him being alive. At this moment, Aiden simply wanted to shut down every single one of his painfully working nerves.
His mind and body were a complete mess, his thoughts utterly cluttered, and even the smallest of his cells was ferociously throbbing.
He fixated his gaze on the giant golden mirror aptly deposed next to what could only be a closet door, realising his fourth panic attack started to kick off.
His breathing once again quickened before coming to an abrupt stop, and the hazy grasp he had of his surroundings, once again, turned entirely indistinguishable.
It wasn't him.
That person wasn't him.
Messy black locks turned a soft, shiny brown. The glacially, icy blue eyes he was so used to seeing were now an affable, delicate lime green. The exquisitely laid mole directly beneath his left eye did wonders to the dazzling figure.
His lips, nose, body... nothing was his.
It was bizarre. looking at a stranger, and yet, knowing full well the person you're looking at was you. It was awfully bizarre.
He stared dazedly, wondering if that horrifying incident threw him into some sort of eternal coma. If he perhaps was condemned, for the rest of his existence, to play a part in this frighteningly real set up his bored brain decided to come up with.
He brought his hand up, pinching the unnaturally pale arm. Feeling the throbbing pain, his mind regained some sense of awareness.
He wanted to deny everything, pretend whatever wacky situation he found himself in was nothing but a piece of his imagination, that he, for better or worse would definitely wake up someday.
His prayers were mercilessly crashed.
The constant flashing of foreign, yet horribly familiar memories, made anything of the sort, unrealisable.
Who was he? He didn't, couldn't know.
Frankly speaking, such a thought was terribly horrifying. Added to the oh so grim images made him almost regret not dying.
Aiden Rhys, same name but so very contrasting lives.
Everything was still somewhat fuzzy, and most of the moving images were quite unclear, but all in all, he got quite the good grasp on just what kind of goddamn twisted mess he found himself in.
He examined the memories again, wanting to make sure this was really happening.
Oh my fucking god. You've got to be kidding him.
Aiden Rhys, 23 years old, a nightclub owner, and balls deep into what he could only assume to be the most terrifying mafia gang he'll ever come across in his existence.
And by balls deep he meant this moron is the fuck buddy of the big boss, the ruler, the motherfucking emperor.
This body's owner was completely, helplessly in love with this big shot, he only agreed to get involved in this dangerous world because he thought he'll be able to win the man's heart, except no matter how much he gave, no matter how strong his devotion appeared to be, nothing changed, he called him whenever he wanted to fuck, before simply leaving, radio silence for weeks, until he got the urge to screw him again. And in all truthfulness, it looked more like the man was pretty disgusted every time they did it.
But the original didn't give up, he continued to persist, and while he never got what he wanted, his dedication granted him the ownership of the most profitable club in this district, "amère". Apparently, this city was devised into two parts, the north being the Gleon's territory, and the south their lifelong adversary's, the Hendrix.
While these two giant forces were rivals, and in some cases enemies even, they both did their best to coexist in peace for the town and it's habitants sake. So while they weren't allies, the compromises gave birth to an unacknowledged treaty, a temporary settlement of some sort.
Aiden stumbled towards the giant bed, sitting down to try and browse the memories some more.
The original Aiden, in all honesty, was a huge dick, in all sense of the word. He was terrible to everyone he came across, treated everyone like shit, and seemed to put himself above all else, disregarding how without his body, he wouldn't have been able to achieve anything. Not that it mattered really.
From what he could see, he also had a sickly younger brother who spent the majority of his time in the hospital, and while Aiden was the one responsible for the fees, he never bothered to visit or check up on the only family member left for him, forgetting about this poor boy at death's door.
To sum it up, everyone this body was acquainted with pretty much wanted him dead. The joy.
He signed, bringing a shaking hand to cover his pale face.
Was this really it? did he just become the worst kind of scum this planet could behold?
He tightly gripped the soft bed sheets, trying, and failing, to calm his rapidly beating heart.
Everything he saw up to this point seemed straight out of a fictional work, his logical mind couldn't accept something like that could potentially be real.
Wait...
He abruptly stood up, once again hurrying towards the big mirror. He carefully examined his reflection, completely focused and 2 seconds away from having a never ending breakdown.
Oh fuck.
Brown hair, green eyes, and a beautiful delicate face. Aiden Rhys, an awful human being, and also utterly in love with Amir Gleon, a terrifying criminal.Shit.
He was in a fucking novel!
The realization hit way harder than he expected.
He fell to the ground, gasping for some air, praying and hoping if this was a nightmare, please just let him wake up.
The brunette clenched his chest, hot, fresh tears streaming endlessly down his pale cheeks. His family is never gonna see him, his friends are never going to see him again....He was never gonna see them again.
It hurts, god it hurts so much.
He broke down. He could hear the deafening sound of his world falling apartment. He wanted to cry and scream and never stop again because lord knows this was brutally tearing him apart.
Wretched sobs echoed in the empty silent room, drowning everything in deep sorrowful agony. He was breaking apart and there was no shoulder for him to lean on.
After all, right now, he was nothing but an imposter.