Hollywood Ascension

As I gaze at myself in the mirror, my head throbbing, fingers pressed against my temples threatening to explode, my youthful, smooth face reflects the confusion and pain I feel. "Okay, okay, Karl. I'm fine, I assure you. I'll just take a painkiller and sleep for a while," I say, wincing.

Karl looks at me as I rub my temples, his blue eyes filled with concern. He raises his hand, his lips moving slightly, seeming to want to say something. Hesitating, he lowers his hand and sighs softly. "I know it's not easy. But don't dwell on it too much. I'm sure that's what your parents would have wanted. So, rest well. I'll come by tomorrow," he says, closing the door.

I lie down on the messy bed, eyes closed, face contorted in pain, unable to stop replaying the last few minutes and how incredible it all is. "So, I really have been reincarnated," I murmur, feeling the weight of that reality settle over me.

My name was Andy Smith, just a maintenance engineer at a data center where hundreds of thousands of internet users passed through every day in 2064 at Google. A failed aspiring writer and mangaka who didn't make it in Hollywood and couldn't fulfill his dream of dominating it, nothing extraordinary like so many others. But as I was trying to disconnect a section, I got electrocuted and thought I was dying on the spot. But that doesn't matter now, because apparently, I've been reincarnated into a new world. It closely resembles Earth in the 90s, although it seems larger and apparently more populated from the memories of this body.

Apparently, I've taken over the body of a certain 16-year-old teenager named William Anderson. His two parents died two months ago in a car accident, and yesterday, he had his 16th birthday, making him eligible to receive his inheritance in this world. That's why Karl, a longtime family friend and lawyer, came to visit me, eager for me to take over the family business.

I hold my throbbing head as memories of my host flash through my mind. I don't know how much time has passed, but I managed to survive. Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I reflect on the information I've just seen, becoming more aware of my new host. "I did well to postpone Karl until tomorrow."

As I suspected, I'm in a new world in January 1990. This world is similar to Earth; they closely resemble each other. The only difference is that it's larger and five times more populous than Earth at the same time. As for history, politics, and technology, it's very similar. The only differences are in entertainment.

In this world, there are no different literary, film, or music franchises. The comic industry never developed in the United States, and the video game industry never recovered from the Atari crash in the eighties. My parents left behind a medium-sized publishing house, "Majestic Publishing," with a reach spanning the entire American continent, worth tens of millions.

I glance at the calendar on the wall where it reads {January 13, 1990}. "Well, at least it's not a bad start," I tell myself. Anyway, I'm tired. I still need to assimilate my memories; tomorrow is bound to be busy. And with that thought, I drift off to sleep.