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All About Red

Billy Vance, a once-promising actor, was fired after he messed up his role in a movie scene. Depressed and desperate, he started drinking and wasting his life. One night, after a drunken binge, he was hit by a car. When he woke up, he found himself in the body of a young woman, Dana Morgan and a system. But she wasn't just any woman - she was a D-list artist who had just been robbed of her chance to perform on stage. Vance discovered that the only way to return to his life was to help the woman become a top artist. And the system, Hollywood, a game-like feature was to guide him on his mission to help the woman become a top artist. But to do that, Dana would have to go through Dorian Gray, the almighty god of the entertainment world and Vance's former rival. And Dorian is also interested in Dana. Can Vance succeed in his mission, or will he be consumed by the darkness of the entertainment world? What would become of him when the situation presents that he must first get to Dorian Gray before climbing high to reach that goal? (A/N: Support this book and it's a WSA entry too. Might be a slow burn at some point ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙)

LindaLight · Urban
Not enough ratings
46 Chs

Are you okay? (1)

Vance gazed in shock at his new feet. They were no longer the large, calloused feet of a man, but rather slim and delicate, almost feminine. He raised one foot, turning it over, and a word escaped his lips: "Pretty."

He blinked, dazed by the sight of his transformed body. He looked at his hands in wonder, unable to deny the evidence before him. They were no longer the rough, calloused hands of a man, but rather slim and graceful, like the hands of an artist or musician.

"I didn't want to believe you, Mr. System," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "But now I have to. These hands are stunning!" He laughed, almost giddy at the sight of his new body.

As the full impact of the situation began to sink in, Vance's mind raced. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, so much he needed to understand. "I need to see a mirror," he mumbled, pushing himself up from the bed.

But just as he began to rise, the door burst open and a doctor, a nurse, and the man from before came rushing in. The doctor and nurse seemed alarmed, but the man simply smiled, his eyes brighter than earlier.

Feigning nonchalance, Vance quickly settled back down onto the bed and flashed a sheepish grin at the newcomers.

"Hi there," he said, his voice sounding unnaturally casual, even to his own ears.

The doctor approached the girl he was seeing, a look of concern on his face. "Are you feeling alright, Mrs?" he asked, placing the back of his hand against her forehead to check the temperature.

Vance's thoughts spiraled, distracted from the doctor's inquiries. "Did that doctor just call me Mrs?" he wondered, his mind racing. "Wait, is this girl married? Why didn't I know about that?" His thoughts were a jumble, but the system's voice cut through the chaos, bringing him back to the present.

[The host is not married. She is a Miss, not a Mrs]

Only Vance could hear the system's voice, a private line of communication between the two of them. It was as if they were the only two people in the room, despite the doctor and nurse standing nearby.

'Owh, then why..?' Vance's thoughts went in circles, until he could no longer keep them inside his head. "Mr. Doctor," he said aloud, breaking his silence, "I am a Miss, not a Mrs."

His voice sounded high and petulant, as if he were a young girl throwing a tantrum.

The doctor and nurse looked at him in surprise, clearly not expecting such a childish outburst.

"Oh, hehe," the doctor said sheepishly, his cheeks reddening. "I'm so sorry for the mistake. I thought that man over there was your husband." He gestured to the man who had been silently observing the scene.

The man behind immediately spoke in a hast, quick to clear up the misunderstanding. "Doctors, please don't get the wrong idea!" he exclaimed. "I may look young, but I may actually be twice her age. I was the one who accidentally hit her with my car."

The doctor paused, considering the man's words. "Oh," he said, realization dawning on his face. He had jumped to conclusions, assuming something that wasn't true. "Rotten mind," he thought to himself, berating his own imagination.

With a sigh, he turned back to the girl and continued his examination.

Afterwards, the doctor turned to address both the man and the girl. "I think she's fine for now," he said, "but she may experience some pain in her joints over the next couple of weeks, or even a month. She should get plenty of rest and eat well. No working for the time being. She can be discharged tomorrow if you wish."

He paused, taking in the reactions of the two.

The man nodded and shook the doctor's hand. "Thank you for your help," he said, his gratitude evident in his voice. "I'll be more careful while driving from now on."

Vance rolled his eyes, though he kept his expression neutral. "Give me a break," he thought to himself. "I'm the one who jumped in front of your car, not the other way around. Don't try to steal my thunder!"

Of course, he would never say such a thing out loud. That would be rude. Instead, he smiled at the doctor and said, "I'm just glad I'm okay."

Vance began to cross his legs, but as he raised his left leg, he felt a sudden, sharp pain in his waist and under his knee. He gasped, pressing his lips together to stifle a cry of pain.

He hoped that no one had noticed his momentary lapse in composure, but the doctor's eyes were trained on him, his expression concerned. "Are you all right?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

Vance forced a smile. "I'm fine," he said, though his feminine voice was tight.

[REMINDER: To eliminate your pain, complete your first mission.]

The system's reminder was completely unnecessary to Vance. He had already been reminded of his first mission, and he didn't need the system to reiterate it. "I didn't need your reminder," he thought, rolling his eyes.

The problem was, he couldn't very well just wander the hospital in search of a director.

"Or maybe I could wander from room to room, asking the wardens if any of them were directors," he mused, aware of how ridiculous that sounded. "But I'd need a gun for that," he added, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Otherwise, no one would admit to being a director."

He stopped and shook his head. That was a terrible idea. Even if it worked, he'd never be able to live with himself after holding people at gunpoint.