Jared stared at the screen, his latest TikTok edit playing on loop. The transitions were smooth, the timing perfect, and the effects crisp. Everything looked professional. Hell, it looked better than most of the stuff that went viral. And yet…
Twelve views.
"Seriously?" he muttered, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his tired eyes.
This was his fifth video in a week, each one carefully crafted, meticulously edited, and still nothing. He wasn't asking for millions of views, but something would be nice.
He scrolled through TikTok, seeing the endless stream of low-effort content getting thousands—no, millions—of views. People lip-syncing to random sounds, unfunny memes, random dance challenges.
'How is this even fair?' Jared thought. He could edit circles around most of these creators, but nothing he made ever seemed to catch on.
It was like he was invisible. He had the skills, no doubt about it. Years of editing experience, above average for sure, but the algorithm just wasn't on his side.
"Maybe I'm cursed," he grumbled, closing the app and tossing his phone onto his bed.
The glow from his computer screen illuminated the cluttered room around him. Empty cans, old takeout containers, and stacks of dusty notebooks were scattered across the floor.
'God, I need to get out of here.' He stood up and stretched, the crack in his back echoing in the quiet apartment. Maybe a break would help. Or maybe not. It didn't really matter. Nothing was working anyway.
Just as he stepped toward the door, a low hum filled the air. It started quietly at first, like the sound of an old refrigerator, but quickly grew louder, vibrating the floor beneath his feet. Jared stopped, frowning as his desk began to shake. "What now?" he muttered, looking around.
The hum grew into a high-pitched whine, like a jet engine revving up, and his computer screen flickered. Jared stumbled back as a sudden, blinding flash filled the room.
He shielded his eyes, heart racing. The light was intense, almost painful, and the air felt like it was being sucked out of the room.
Then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. The light vanished. The hum faded. Silence. Jared blinked, trying to clear the spots from his vision. His heart was still pounding in his chest, his ears ringing.
He looked around the room, half expecting something to be on fire. But nothing. Everything looked… normal. Except… it wasn't.
His phone buzzed on the bed. He picked it up, his hands shaking slightly, and checked the screen.
The notification popped up like any other, except this one hit him like a ton of bricks.
September 23, 2021.
"What the...?" Jared stared at the date in disbelief. He opened his calendar app, the same date staring back at him. His mouth went dry.
"No way. This isn't possible." He glanced around the room again. At first glance, it seemed the same.
But then he noticed it—the posters on the wall, the old laptop on his desk, the stack of video games he'd sold two years ago, all back in their places like they'd never been gone.
"No. No, this isn't... this can't be happening." He paced the room, his breath coming out in shallow bursts.
"Am I dreaming? Did I black out or something?" He patted his face, slapped himself lightly, trying to shake himself awake. But the date on the phone refused to change.
September 23, 2021.
His heart pounded in his chest as he sat back down at his desk, staring blankly at the black computer screen. His mind raced with possibilities, each more ridiculous than the last.
'Time travel? Am I in some kind of simulation? What the hell is this?'
He picked up his phone again, scrolling through his messages, hoping to find something that made sense. His last text was from 2021. A text he remembered sending, three years ago.
"This has to be a glitch," he whispered, shaking his head. "There's no way I'm... back in time. That doesn't happen." His voice cracked as he spoke, the words sounding hollow, even to him. "People don't just travel back three years!"
He opened TikTok, fingers trembling as the feed loaded. His eyes widened. The trends, the sounds... 'it's all from 2021.' Videos from three years ago flashed before his eyes: old dances, now-dead challenges, all trending like it was brand new.
Jared felt a wave of panic wash over him. "What the hell is going on?" he muttered, rubbing his temples. It was too much to process. He closed the app, threw his phone on the bed, and paced again, trying to breathe, trying to think.
Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours—he couldn't tell. But slowly, the disbelief started to ebb, replaced by a creeping realization. 'What if this is real?'
He sat back down, staring at his cracked phone screen. 'What if... I'm actually back in 2021?' His mind raced, desperately searching for something to ground him, something that made sense, but it was getting harder to deny.
"Okay," he whispered, half to himself. "If this is real, if I really am back..." He trailed off, his thoughts turning to the only thing that made sense right now—TikTok.
2021 had always been Jared's favorite year for TikTok. Not just his, but for a lot of people. It was when everything was fresh—when the trends were fun and every other week something new blew up.
He remembered watching it all happen, feeling like he was just a step behind the curve. His breath slowed as a single thought took shape in his mind.
'I could try again.' The thought felt unreal, almost ridiculous, but it clung to him. If this was 2021—if he really was back—he could get in on the trends early.
He knew what worked, he had seen it happen already. And now, with his editing skills, maybe he had a shot at making something big. He shook his head, trying to laugh it off.
"No way. This is insane." But deep down, the idea was already taking root.
Suddenly, his phone screen flickered, dimming for a moment before a message appeared in bold white text, as if it had always been there.
[Host Found]
Jared blinked, his breath catching in his throat. He stared at the message, unblinking, as if his phone had just spoken to him.
The message stayed, unmoving on the screen, as if waiting. "Host... found?" Jared whispered, gripping the phone tighter, his palms suddenly clammy.
"What the hell does that mean?" No sooner had he said the words than another message appeared below the first, the letters forming slowly, deliberately.
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A/N: This is my first ever time making a novel. Don't expect anything good! Also, you might cringe a whole lot, but enjoy :P
Next chapter tomorrow.