Kian had been hiding at home, scared and alone. But as days went by, he started to feel a little better. He missed his friends and being at school. He thought he might be able to handle it now.
So, he got ready and went back to Oakwood Middle School. Walking through the halls, Kian saw all the familiar faces, all the kids he used to laugh and hang out with.
But it wasn't like that anymore. He didn't know these kids. The real Kian had been a popular guy, a social butterfly with tons of friends. But he, the new Kian, felt like a stranger.
As he saw his friends, he pretended to recognize them, laughing and chatting like he always had. He acted like the real Kian, even though inside, he felt like he was wearing a mask.
It was exhausting trying to act like someone he wasn't. He didn't know anything about the things they were talking about, the jokes they were making. It was like he was playing a role in a play, but he didn't know his lines.
He bumped into his friend, Liam, in the hallway.
"Hey Kian!" Liam said. "You ready for the history test?"
Kian froze. He'd totally forgotten about the test. The real Kian would have known about it.
"Uh, yeah, totally ready," Kian mumbled, trying to sound confident. "Totally been studying."
Liam laughed. "I bet you have. You always ace everything."
Kian nodded, hoping Liam wouldn't ask him any questions about the test. He had no idea what they were studying.
"So, what are you doing this weekend?" Liam asked. "You going to that new arcade downtown?"
Kian had no idea what Liam was talking about. The real Kian probably had plans, maybe even a date.
"Uh, yeah, maybe," Kian said, trying to sound casual. "I have to study, but I might go."
Liam laughed and patted Kian on the back. "See ya around."
As Liam walked away, Kian felt a wave of relief wash over him. He'd managed to get through that conversation without making a fool of himself. But he knew it was just a matter of time before someone figured out he was different.
He was good at school stuff, even better than the real Kian. Kian always had a knack for learning things. But he knew that being smart wasn't enough to fit in with the real Kian's friends.
Kian was a fake, a mask on a stranger's face. He wasn't sure how long he could keep it up. He needed to find a way to be himself, but he was scared of what that might mean.
Days blurred into weeks, and Kian kept up his act, pretending to be the real Kian. He went to parties, played video games, and even joined the school basketball team, all while feeling like a fraud. It was tiring, but he was determined to keep up appearances, at least for now.
The history exam loomed, and Kian panicked. He hadn't studied a single bit. The real Kian had probably been cramming for weeks, but this Kian, a 26-year-old office worker stuck in a middle schooler's body, was a different story.
He didn't need to cram. He was smart, and he had the mental capacity of an adult.
On the day of the exam, Kian sat down with a mix of anxiety and excitement. He looked at the test, his heart beating fast. The questions were like child's play to him.
He raced through the answers, his pen flying across the paper. He knew all the dates, all the names, all the key events. He couldn't believe how easy it was.
When the bell rang, he turned in his test with a smug smile. He was certain he had aced it.
The next day, the teacher returned the exams. Kian held his breath as the teacher called his name.
"Kian, 100%," the teacher said. "A perfect score."
Kian grinned, relieved. He'd done it. He'd aced the test without even trying. He had a secret weapon that the real Kian didn't: a mature brain trapped in a teenager's body.
But that victory felt empty. It wasn't a true victory, not when he was just a fake.
Kian felt like he was living a lie. The real Kian was still a mystery, and he was afraid of who he might turn out to be.
He had to find a way to be himself, to be real. He had to figure out who he was, without the shadow of the real Kian hanging over him.
But for now, he would keep up the act, pretending to be the popular guy everyone thought he was. He had to, for his own safety, for the safety of everyone around him.
As he walked, he saw a familiar figure ahead. Cassiopeia was standing on a street corner, her back to him. Three men were surrounding her, their faces hardened, their voices gruff.
Kian froze, his heart pounding in his chest. Something felt wrong. The men looked threatening, their eyes focused on his sister with a predatory gleam.
He tried to ignore the scene, to walk away, to pretend he hadn't seen anything. But his feet felt rooted to the ground. He couldn't tear his eyes away.
He heard Cassiopeia's voice, her tone sharp and cold.
"You're wrong," she said. "My father's debts are his, not mine. Leave me alone."
The men laughed, their voices mocking. "Don't play dumb, sweetheart. Your father is an gambling addict, who goes around with debt to everyone, and it was under your name."
"I don't know," Cassiopeia said. "Then just find the good-for-nothing father of mine to pay for his own debt."
The men moved closer, their faces contorted with anger and lust. They reached for Cassiopeia, their hands grabbing at her arms, trying to pull her closer.
Kian felt a surge of rage, but he was trapped. He was just a kid, helpless and powerless. He couldn't do anything to help his sister. He couldn't intervene. He could only watch, his heart pounding in his chest.
But then something incredible happened. Cassiopeia broke free from the men's grasp. She moved with a speed and grace that Kian had never seen before. Her hands, with a practiced movement, landed on the men's chests, sending them staggering back.
She moved with the agility of a trained fighter, her punches landing with a surprising force. She was like a whirlwind, a hurricane of fury unleashed upon her attackers.
Kian watched, his jaw dropping, as his sister, who had always seemed so delicate and refined, easily overpowered the three men. They were no match for her. She fought with a strength that seemed to come from somewhere beyond the limits of her human body.
The men backed away, their faces contorted with fear and pain. They had been defeated.
One of the men, his voice trembling, said, "We'll get your brother. We'll make him pay for this."
Kian, who had been hiding behind a parked car, felt a chill run down his spine. They were going after him.
Cassiopeia, still facing the men, glared at them, her voice low and menacing. "You wouldn't dare touch him," she said. "If a single hair on his head is out of place, I will make you regret it."
The men, their faces pale with fear, stumbled back, their eyes wide with terror. They knew they had met their match.
Cassiopeia turned and walked away, her back straight, her movements confident. She didn't even look back at the men, who were quickly disappearing into the shadows.
Kian, still hiding, watched her go. He felt a mixture of awe and fear. His sister was powerful, capable of taking care of herself. But her threat to the men, her coldness, scared him.