2 Chapter 2 : New Life

As I stared at my old guitar, a freaking massive migraine hit me like a freight train. It was like my head was being drilled and sawed at the same damn time.

"What the hell—" I couldn't even get a single sentence out. The pain just kept slamming into me, wave after wave. And let me tell you, it was a tidal wave that knocked me the fuck out cold.

When I finally woke up, the sun was shining high in the sky. And holy shit...

I had somehow time-traveled back to 2009, but here's the kicker—I found myself inside the body of some random high school punk who OD'd on pills. Like, seriously? Did I accidentally stumble into a freaking pill-popping time machine or what?

Now, I was stuck being this dude named Finn Matthews, a sixteen-year-old with black hair and green eyes. I stood at a decent five foot nine, with my hair hanging down to my chin. But that's not even the worst part, man. I couldn't remember my own damn name from before. It all felt like a freaking dream, and my life as Finn was the only thing that felt real, which was messed up beyond belief. Both lives, my original one and this Finn situation, were total train wrecks, no doubt about it.

See, the reason Finn went down the overdose road was because his mom tragically offed herself in their bathroom just three months ago, on the first day of his sophomore year. And hey, my own parents are gone too, but at least I didn't stumble upon their lifeless bodies. Poor guy, poor... well, maybe poor me too?

If I had to describe the old Finn in one word, it would be "fuck-boy." This dude was on a mission to bed at least half the girls in our school, and get this—he pulled it off as a freaking freshman. That's wilder than anything I ever did back in the day, and trust me, I was no saint.

But after his mom's tragic exit, Finn went off the deep end, hanging out with the wrong crowd and diving headfirst into a buffet of drugs. Within a mere three months, he went from Mr. Popular to the school's resident druggie. Attendance became a foreign concept, and his future was headed straight for the gutter. And you know what? We have that last part in common.

Dragging myself up from the bed, I stumbled toward the bathroom. This house had two bathrooms, but the one near the living room was locked up tight. Gee, I wonder why.

Flipping on the light switch, I caught sight of my reflection. Holy shit, I looked like a greasy mess. It seemed like this dude hadn't taken a decent shower in years! I pushed my hair back, inspecting my face. There was some scruffy stubble trying to make an appearance, but the bloodshot eyes and those nasty bags beneath them were my main concern.

"Aw, shit. I've got some serious work to do," I grumbled to myself.

I still had no clue why or how I ended up with this second chance at life, living someone else's existence. But damn it, I wasn't about to waste it. Even though Finn wasn't me, and I couldn't remember who the hell I really was, one thing was crystal clear—I needed to get my shit together. If I could get my ass back in school, ace the SATs, and score a college degree, maybe I could have a decent shot at a good life with a steady paycheck.

I pulled my hair back into a messy bun and rummaged through a cabinet to find a razor. With a determined look on my face, I set to work, carefully shaving off the patchy stubble that covered my face. It looked pretty damn weird with all those uneven spots, but hey, it was a start. (Think Eren Yeager's hairstyle gone wonky.)

After my impromptu shave, I stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away the grime and confusion that clung to me. Stepping out, I knew I needed to make a plan. With my knowledge of the future, I had a chance to make some serious cash. And if I could simultaneously work toward my education, things might just fall into place.

So, step one was crystal clear—I had to get my ass back in school and survive. If I could kick ass on the SATs, I might just land a spot in a kickass college.

Lost in my thoughts, the sound of the front door opening snapped me back to reality. I quickly got to my feet and rushed to see who the hell was barging in. And there he stood—a guy around five foot ten, with a scruffy beard and short black hair, his eyes as dark as the night.

It was Finn's old man, Jamie Matthews. Now, I kept reminding myself that I wasn't really Finn, so why the fuck did I feel an overpowering urge to deck this guy square in the face?

"So you're still alive, ain't that a surprise..." said the annoying bastard of a geezer. Yup now that overwhelming urge is completely justified.

"Real disappointed aren't ya, you fuckin geezer." I said that without even meaning to, why the fuck am I barely even in control here?!

"Not disappointed brat, more like pleasantly shocked you didn't pull the same shit your pussy of a mother pulled. " AYO WHAT THE FUCK... He ain't dissing my mom yet I feel this amount of rage, agony and weirdly relief...?

I punched the wall right next to me with everything my skinny ass had and put a proper dent in there. The old man let out a whistle.

"Nice punch you got there sonny, I see how you don't get bullied even when you're the local neighborhood junkie."

"DON'T TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT, YOU HEARTLESS BASTARD!" With that riveting comeback I stormed out of the house with literally nothing in my pockets. LET ME CONTROL THIS RETARDED ASS BODY PLEASEEEEEE.

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