Rey Kenobi hummed to herself, nervously biting her thumb as she stared at her jurassic, almost a decade old, second hand laptop.
She had been rocking back and forth on her chair, refreshing the page probably every five seconds. It had been almost a week since she sent dozens of application letters (and resumes) to automotive companies, hoping to get employed as a mechanic in one of their home-based factories in the country.
It was a long shot. Seeing that every job description she applied to required at least three to five years of work experience. And her, a fresh graduate from a so-so university with a course of mechanical engineering with the most mediocre grades, it would be a miracle if any of those companies would actually reply to her application.
She sighed. How she became this big ball of pessimism evaded her up until now. She wondered what happened to her.
She rolled her eyes. She knew exactly what happened.
Life happened, that's why.
She dreamt of becoming something great. To be an inventor or probably make a spaceship that would send an astronaut to distant planets. But that was back when she was young; a naive orphan girl who had nothing more but her dreams to escape the harsh reality that she was exposed to at a very young age. Still, she was optimistic. Against all odds, they say. And she did just that. Everything that the universe had thrown to her, she managed to overcome; everyday she learned how the world worked, struggling to maneuver in this strong current called life.
She was proud of it. She was smart, street smart. Yet, deep down, she knew that being street smart can only go so far.
That's why she forced herself to get a good education; to get a degree. It was the perfect plan — a college graduate who can maneuver the hardships of life like it was nothing. Because at the end of the day, she never is and never will be just some entitled millennial.
Yet, something in her changed. As she explored this wide rough world, she came to realize something. Every person is judged by some standard — and as a student who wanted to make a name for herself, it was her grades.
And she didn't excel in that. Mechanical Engineering is hard as hell, and even though she wanted to excel in it, well, she wasn't as smart as she thought she was. She ended up having mundane grades, almost flunking in two or three subjects. Yet she fought on, holding onto that optimism she had as a child. Until one day, it just disappeared.
Now, she knows that she's nothing more but an ordinary girl, succumbing to this capitalist world where the most important achievement she can get is to get a decent job and pay off her student loan.
Struggling is hard. It was exhausting. How long can she keep this up?
She sighed again, glancing in panic at the waiter who came approaching. Immediately, she closed her laptop and shoved it in her backpack. They finally caught her, leeching off in their free wifi.
Hey, it's not her fault that they don't change their password that often. As fast as she could, she bolted out of the coffeeshop never looking back. God, she's so pathetic. She should have checked her emails during the day, not when the store was almost closing and there was no customer other than her. Now that she's caught red handed in leeching of their wifi, it might be the last time that she can freely connect to the place. She sighed. If only she had an extra two pounds to spare to buy coffee, that wouldn't even be a problem.
The nineteen year old treaded the dim streets, heading towards her apartment. But she was alerted by a text prompt, her phone vibrating in her pocket. She gasped, immediately taking the smartphone, hoping deep inside that it was some form of good news.
It wasn't. It was just another message from her old university, reminding her that she was late for the payments for her student loan.
She sighed, loudly this time. She needed a quiet place to think.
—
Rey sat quietly on a park bench, one that's overlooking the city down below.
It was beautiful. How the city lights flickered like a group of fireflies, its coordinated flashes of color schemes made her heart flutter. She can almost see the London's eye from here, even the Buckingham Palace. She snorted. That was an exaggeration.
A weak smile etched her lips. While it the city was beyond mesmerizing, it wasn't enough to make her forget her daily struggles. For what it's worth, it made her sadder. She was alone struggling in this big world, nothing but to rely on herself to survive. She should have been used to this. She was born a fighter, but for some reason life just wouldn't let her take a break. She would have kept fighting on, but now, she was just growing tired of everything.
Adulting is hard. Life was so much easier when she was a child, collecting scraps to sell them to some local junk shop. She would just sleep under a bridge, or bounce from one foster home to another. At least back then she's not thinking about rent money, nor paying her taxes or her student loan.
God damn it, she scolded herself. When did she become a whiner? Urgh. It was like she was being possessed by some overly pessimistic ghost. She shrugged the thoughts off.
Complaining would do her no good. She knew that. It's just a bad day, she'll get through this, she convinced herself.
On her lap was a small notebook, a page opening where she wrote her monthly budget.
Fuck, she is broke. That salary she was supposed to acquire from her side job — waiting tables at some pub at the heart of the city was delayed. The owner promising that she will pay her in a weeks time.
She scratched her head, her eyes gazing up to the night sky. She doesn't know if she will survive the week with just 10 pounds in her wallet.
A bad day, she reminded herself. Everything will be better. And yet there was a slight tug in her heart pulling her to the darkness. A bad day, she told herself.
She stared at the sky, hoping that at some point rain would just pour and wash her negativity away. She missed her old self — the child that dreamt, the little girl who hoped, the fighter who never gave up. If she could just punch herself in the gut just to shoo away the pessimistic ghost inhabiting her body, she would have done so. She hoped that her optimistic self would just pop back during these trying times. Maybe some other time. Maybe she'll return. Tomorrow.. or anytime when she's not feeling this depressed about her life situation.
Suddenly, her eyes widened in awe, astonished at what she was seeing. There was something in the dim night sky. Its florescence sending out streaks of light illuminating the atmosphere. A shooting star! She thought. But it was passing by the earth at an abnormally slow rate. She wondered at first if that was normal. She's seen at least one meteor shower in her life and she was sure as hell that they don't move that slow. From her perspective, it would seem like it was some airplane or maybe an alien spaceship but the flicker of lights in those mechanical aircrafts made her discredit the thought. That thing over the sky, it was burning. Burning too bright that it felt like it was a star falling towards the earth.
She gasped, remembering the feeling when she saw these showers for the first time. She was so young back then, when she hoped and believed in legends and wishes. At nineteen, she should know all too well that they are not real. Yet, she clasped her hands together, closing her eyes as if praying.
"Please." She whispered. "I don't want to struggle with my finances any longer." She prayed.
She then exhaled, eyes bolting wide open. This is beyond ridiculous. She thought. Because after all, wishes don't come true.
—
Rey groaned as the first stream of sunlight hit her face. She hasn't been in bed for more than three hours and it was already morning.
She shifted her body, her arm covering her eyes to block the early sun rays. Her other hand gently rubbing her belly, a habit she grew accustomed to when she lulls herself to sleep.
As her fingers caressed her torso, she felt a little bit weird. Something's off, she could tell. Why does her stomach have crevices? For a while, she opened her eyes, squinting in confusion until she realized that sleep was more important than whatever this was. She could feel her eyes slowly shutting to a close, exhaustion pulling her back to slumber. In her half awake state, she subconsciously continued to rub, not minding the embossed muscles that made her fingers bounce. She's just dreaming, she told herself, continuing to stroke her torso. But as she was finally lulling herself back to sleep, her hand snapped, missing her bellybutton altogether, landing just beneath her crotch.
She jolted at the feeling, remembering that there are times in your sleep when you feel like you are falling off a cliff, then you realize that you didn't. Still, her hand lay still on below her bellybutton until her fingers rolled towards something hard.
This time her eyes bolted open, her face crumpling in confusion. There's something unfamiliar near her groin. Something as hard as stone that seemed so foreign, like it shouldn't be there at all. Slowly, her hand searched for that rock. Her fingers carefully tracing her groin, hand crawling near it.
A gasp. Followed by her sitting straight up when she realized what it was. It wasn't some rock. She was holding some other person's dick! An erect fucking dick to be exact. Immediately, her hand swatted away from the body part in pure disgust. She scanned her surroundings, looking for a man. She didn't sleep with anyone last night. Rey can remember the events that transpired last night. She was sitting on a park bench, made a stupid wish on some random falling rock from the sky, went straight home and went to sleep.
So who the fuck is this man sleeping on her bed? She hurriedly crawled away from the cushions before she lost her balance and fell face first to the ground, dragging the the sheets with her.
She grunted at the pain, but she did not hear her voice. That one was low, too low. It almost sounded like he was growling. Did she wake the man up? He was grunting for sure.
Rey scurried underneath the fallen sheets. She draped the cloth on her head like a jacket, as if it would protect her from whoever was lying on her bed.
Silently she waited, observing for another grunt. Nothing. So she carefully crawled towards the cushions, silently peeping overhead.
There was no one on the bed. It was empty.
She gasped, loudly this time. Her hand reaching towards her mouth to prevent herself from screaming. But there was something about her hands that made her drop her gaze towards it. Since when did she have large hands?
Rey squeaked, pulling the hand away from her mouth. But the shock sent her tumbling to the front. As an instinct to prevent herself from falling face first, she planted her palms on the ground.
As soon as her palms hit the ground, she saw those large hands again, not to mention those muscular arms. "What?" That's all that she managed to say.
Then her mind went blank. She lay still on all fours, knees and palms to the floor. Her gaze drawn again at those ridiculously large hands. She exhaled nervously.
These hands are not hers, she was sure of it. Yet her brain conjured up with something just to confirm that it really wasn't hers. She ordered her mind to move her pinky finger. She bit her lip, hoping (and praying) that these foreign fingers right in front of her would not move.
It moved. The pinky finger fucking moved.
She stared in a daze, laughing nervously to herself. She's dreaming. Yes. Of course, it's just a dream— or a nightmare.
Because it is impossible. How can she be in someone else's body? She pinched her cheek, she slapped herself to wake herself up. Yet every single time she hit herself, the pain that came with it was too raw and real.
She panicked, freaking out real bad. She convinced herself that it wasn't real. But that bloody pinky finger moved on her command and she just lost it.
She has gone crazy. She knows she had. There's no other explanation for this. She should call the police! Report a crime or something.
She scrambled to stand up, full bent on the fact that she wanted the authorities to investigate her case. But she fell again, one of her foot getting tangled with the other because of her franticness. This — whoever this is, had long fucking legs and she miscalculated her step!
She fell on the ground, her torso slamming down on the floor. She groaned at the pain, rolling towards her side, cringing in place.
The pain in between her legs is almost too unbearable. Instinctively, she placed her hands on her groin, protecting it or somewhat soothing it from the stinging sensation it radiated.
"Oh my god, I have a fucking dick!" She whimpered helplessly as she pressed further down her groin, finally letting herself feel the foreign male organ attached to her body. "Why do I have a dick?!" She rolled from side to side, cussing to herself. "Fuck, the pain is real." She cried, continuing to soothe the aching organ. Why the fuck did she have to fall groin first?
But it was a thought that went away fast. She was still literally squirming in place. She couldn't even rationalize the fact that even her voice sounded lower than it should. Like probably two octaves lower.
Her eyes brimmed with with tears. This is the most painful thing that she had ever experienced in her life. Maybe at par with fucking childbirth which now, she has no idea why she's comparing it with that. She hasn't even given birth yet!
Rey continued to whimper, breathing in and out through her mouth slowly. Maybe if she calmed down, the excruciating pain will disappear. Finally, it did subside, but not leaving a radiating stinging after effect.
She sniffed on the ground, finally letting go of her dick. Fuck, it's weird when she's applying to it to herself. She has a dick. A dick! A fucking penis!
She lay still, her gaze unwittingly landed on the ceiling. A massive chandelier greeted her. Fuck. She's not even in her apartment anymore.
Rey sat upright again. That sucker punch in the groin finally managed to calm her down. She scoffed. Was she about to call the police earlier?
She shook her head. As if they can do anything. For what it's worth they would probably brand her as crazy or deranged. Sending her straight to the mental hospital.
She sighed again, observing her new found body. She watched as her (or this body's) chest rise and fall, hearing this person's soft low exhales that her mind ordered him to do.
Then she exhaled again, her (his) lips puckering up as his body released her air.
"First things, first." She was now talking to herself. Inadvertently, she licked her lips. Man, her (or his) voice sounded amazing. But she shook her head, brushing the thought away.
"I'm Rey." She continued, standing up. She would just have to rationally find an explanation. It's the only way she can convince herself that she's not batshit crazy. "Rey Kenobi."
"I'm British." She walked towards the full length window, overviewing the skyscrapers and the city below. "I from London, United Kingdom."
She whimpered and gulped, her nerves starting to kick in again. Those buildings outside are unfamiliar. She's not in London.
She took a nervous step back away from the window. From a far she could see a familiar building, one that she sees only in post cards and magazines — the Empire State Building. She gulped anxiously, holding onto her sanity. She can't lose her shit now, not yet. Rationally explaining things, remember.
Rey let another low exhale. So, she's in a random flat. In New York. In the United States of fucking America. In a different body.
Cool. Cool. It's cool. She's chill.
Rey shut her eyes tight, clenching her fists. Her (or his) jaw tightening more than ever. Calm down, Rey. Calm down. She told herself.
She hesitantly walked across this overly large, expensive looking flat. She would have stared in awe, but she has bigger problems to solve. She searched for the bathroom, or any room with a mirror. It's about time that she sees this herself. She needed to confirm whether this was just her imagination.
She found a sliding door somewhere. Rey didn't have the time to contemplate nor memorize the flat's interior. She just found a door and opened it.
Rey whistled in awe. Never mind the collection of black suits that was surrounding her. The room was massive! Even bigger than her whole apartment combined. She glanced to her right, the wall was basically a full length mirror. One that you can only find on a dance studio, or something.
The nineteen year old blinked. Once, twice, thrice. She finally saw it. The person who owns the body she's currently possesses. He was wearing a plain white v-neck and black boxer shorts.
She began to shake uncontrollably. "I'm Rey Kenobi." She whispered, almost at her wits end.
She took a step forward towards the mirror.
"I have brown eyes..." She stuttered unsurely as she touched the man's face and stared at his reflection. This person, he didn't have brown eyes. His was jet black — deep and haunting. She watched as the man's lips moved with her words.
"I'm five feet, seven inches tall." She whimpered, sniffing, almost wanting to cry.
This person in front of her. The person whom she who's saying her thoughts. He was large. Fucking huge. About six feet or more.
She can't believe it. She's not believing any of this!
"I'm a fresh graduate." She nervously continued. This man, he doesn't look like a student. For what it's worth, he seemed older. In his late twenties or early thirties.
"I..." She started to wail in despair, her heart sinking at the fact that she was, somehow, stuck inside another person's body. Her tears began to roll down that man's cheek. "I don't have wavy black hair." She whimpered.
She thought she can continue to deny it. But it's all real. Please, she's not going crazy, is she?
"I don't have a sharp nose. No big ears or this long face. I'm a woman! I... I shouldn't have a three o'clock shadow!"
She dropped on her knees, the base of her (his) palm reaching her (his) eyes to dry them. It was ridiculous. If some other person would see her right now, it would seem like he was a grown, six feet tall, muscular man who was wailing like a child. But it was her. She's Rey. She's there. Inside him.
What the fuck is going on?
—
The nineteen year old have cried for at least over an hour now. She retorted back towards this man's bed, curling into fetal position, tightly wrapping her arms on one of his pillows.
She buried her face in it, perceiving the sensation that this soft fluffy plush of a pillow she brought near her chin. She was even feeling it, she thought. The way that the cushions pressed on her or this man's cheeks. The way that she smelled the lingering scent of what she figured as the smell of an ocean summer breeze and the faint hint of cigarettes.
The man, whoever this is.. he's a smoker. She thought.
Rey rolled, lying on her back. She could feel that this man's eyes were clearly swollen with all of her crying. His nose stuffy because of her tears. How his cheeks, not to mention his big ears turn red because of her panic and flustering. How his chest heaves whenever she breathes. That low voice she hears whenever she talks...
Rey knows that it was her, her mind who was doing all the thinking. She's the one who's feeling all of these emotions all at once. Yet when she looks at the mirror, or even touch herself to console her somber being, it was not her body whom she was touching or seeing. But some foreign person.
She is him, for one reason or another.
Rey closed her eyes. How is this even possible? Unless of course, she had really gone crazy. Do crazy people know that they're crazy?
No they don't. That's what she told herself. And she has to believe that silver lining. Because if not... how can she make sense of any of this?
Well, that's the thing. Body switching? It doesn't make sense.
She's not in some story. Those legends and myths she accustomed to believe when she was young are not real. They are tales told to give an explanation to the unknown, back when science was sparse and knowledge about the world was little.
Or... fuck. Maybe she is crazy. She probably is. Everything is inside her head. All of this is imaginary. Like Alice, Alice in fucking Wonderland or that Spanish kid from Pan's Labyrinth.
She gulped, finally resigning to the fact that everything is just in her head. Even though she could trace his muscular body in her fingers, touch his face and feel his thick plump lips graze her fingers, or smell realistically his ocean scent shampoo.
She bit her (his) lip. Yup, definitely cray cray.
Then his cellphone rang. It kept buzzing on the small side table beside her. Actually, it had been buzzing for several times now. It's just that she was too preoccupied to notice. Now that she convinced herself that she's probably gone crazy, all her senses seemed to function normally and the first thing it did was to hear that mechanical vibrations that the small device made.
Two, three rings. Then it stopped. The screen flash, alerting a voicemail prompt. Then it began to ring again. Then another voicemail.
Rey sat up, holding the smartphone in her now ginormous palm. She will never get used to the fact that everything in this man is so large. Wait, scratch that. She does not want to get used to it. Unless she really wants to believe that she really, really has gone crazy. Which a while ago, she already did. Fuck! This is lunacy!
Rey scowled, staring at the screen instead. Her voice echoing a low male hum.
What kind of phone etiquette is that? She thought. Who would in their right mind drop a call half-way then leave a voicemail? Then repeat it several times? It's as if the caller, whoever this Armitage Hux is, is deliberately doing it to piss her off.
For a while her eyebrow creased as she contemplated. Damn, if everything is just inside her head she's proud that she somewhat came up with a complex (yet seemingly asshole) of a character. To think that she conjured a random man, with a name as weird as Armitage Hux to just piss herself off.
Brilliant Rey, just brilliant.
She chuckled before taking the call. What more can she lose? She's already gone crazy.
"What the fuck Ren?" The man or Armitage hissed from the other side of the line.
Rey's eyes widened in shock. He sounded real, not to mention very, very upset.
Is he real? No, everything is inside her head right? She's gone crazy, remember?
"Hello?" Armitage checked from the other side. Rey lay quiet for the longest time, not talking but rather shuddering on the phone microphone. Her (his) lips quivered, small low exhales now escaping her (his) lips.
She fidgeted. How should she answer this? Should she even reply? What should she say?
"What's up, Armitage?" She said instead, greeting the man happily like he was a long time friend. Just how she greets her bestfriend, Finn.
Then there was silence. An eerie, uncomfortable silence on the phone.
"Are you fucking high?" Armitage snapped from the other side. "Or have you completely lost it?"
"Since when did you call me Armitage, you dimwitted Neanderthal." There was contempt in his voice, not to mention spite and a boatload of disbelief. "Stop with this childishness, Ren. You should have been in the office thirty minutes ago for the board meeting. I know what you want to say, it is just another boring board meeting but it still is a board meeting."
"Also, I do not have time to baby sit your grown childish ass. I suggest you get your shit together because the Empire does not need —"
Board meeting? Rey pondered. Wait, did he just call her a grown childish ass? Not to mention a Neanderthal? For a minute, Rey forgot that she believed that she was crazy, or this man was a byproduct of her imagination. Rage shot straight to her brain. How dare him. He doesn't know her. Yet the first ever conversation they had, ended up with this asshole calling her a caveman. The hell?
"Did you just call me a Neanderthal?" Rey hissed, the man's voice octave low voice expressing her own anger. "You're rude!" She spat.
There was silence. I guess from the other side of the line, Rey finally talked some sense to this Armitage Hux. She could hear him scuffle over the phone, or maybe his jaw dropped out of shock.
"Since when did have a British accent, Ren?" He finally said. There was a hint of distress in his voice, not to mention he was semi-freaked out with the way Rey talked. She doesn't know if he was concerned or mocking her.
Rey rolled her eyes, she figured it was the latter. He was mocking her for her accent. Of course she will have a British accent. She is, British. Born and raised (maybe even die) there. C'mon, Hux. Keep the fuck up.
"Ren." Hux hissed. This time, his tone was serious, worried.
Ren? Rey thought. Rey. Her name's Rey. She's not Ren. Irritation crawling up her skin.
"Stop calling me that. The name is Re —?"
In a flash, her brain snapped back to the current situation. She gasped. That big hand again covering her mouth. Instinctively, she threw the smartphone away. She watched how it bounced on the cushions, the muffled voice of Armitage Hux echoing through it. She took a pillow and smothered the device, just so she can't hear Hux' further scolding.
Her heart began to frantically beat inside her chest. Or this man's chest — whatever. His or hers? Does it even matter? Does she even care right now?
She doesn't. Because all she could hear was the sound of their hearts booming like thunder inside their chest. To the point that it seemed like it will break this man's ribcage.
Her and this man's vision swirled. Like vertigo shooting up straight to their brains. She was panicking. She's terrified of the unexplainable realization that this... everything... is not just in her head; that even if she convinces herself a hundred times over that she is crazy... she's not. It's real.
Armitage Hux is real? Ren, the person she is right now, exists?
No. No. No. No. She laughed nervously to herself, almost maniacally in fact.
Did she forget that she has a loose screw in the head? This is just her imagination!
Yet, there was this burning curiosity to confirm everything. She convinces herself that she's mental. Yet, she doesn't want to be. So which was it? To confirm that she's crazy in the head or confirm that she is indeed stuck in another person's body?
She scratched her now wavy jet black (not to mention soft) hair in panic. Well, screw it. Both situations are out of this world so might as well have the courage to confirm it.
Slowly, Rey removed the pillow that covered the man's smart phone.
She checked his phone, searching. 'Armitage Hux Empire' she typed in on google, not without backspacing for a while because of the typographical errors his big fingers made.
Rey shuddered as she clicked the first link. A ginger haired man appeared. He definitely looked like a fucking asshole. Thin, bony, face sunken, his ginger hair combed back to his head.
Armitage Hux is a fucking real person. She gulped.
"CFO of Empire Ltd., the largest car manufacturer in the United States." She whispered.
Empire? Rey heard of it. That company had expanded to their country, beating almost every British automotive companies. She saw their cars, fixed one of them in fact. Back when she was in Britain.
Below his description was another hyperlink. "See also: Kylo Ren." It said.
Ren. Ren. Ren. The name echoed on her head. She remembered Hux calling her that. She began to click the link.
There was a picture of him — the man whose body she's currently inhabiting.
That same dark eyes, that jet black wavy hair, the long pointy nose, his thick luscious lips, wearing a sharp black suit that she (probably) saw in his ginormous walk in closet.
A small description under the photo, she began to read it.
Kylo Ren, 29 years of age, born November 19, 1989. CEO of Empire Ltd., the largest car manufacturer in the United States.
At 24, he became the youngest billion dollar CEO, making him the first person, below thirty, to reach the Forbes List of the World's Richest.
Currently, he ranks first in the billion dollar list, outranking Bill Gates, who had been number 1 for more than 18 years.
Bill Gates is real. The Empire is a real company. Armitage Hux is an existing person.
So... Kylo Ren is real too?
Rey pressed the back button, clicking other links about Kylo Ren. She was not reading any of it, not really. She scanned the pages, hoping at some point that he is not a real person or something.
But he was. Every link that she clicked, every information that bounced right off her head, all of it telling her the same thing. Kylo Ren is a real person.
Rey dropped the smartphone.
He is the richest man in the world? She gulped. So technically, right now... she is the world's richest person in the world?
Rey gasped, letting herself fall onto Kylo Ren's bed. She chewed on his lip nervously, remembering the wish she made the night before.
She said that she doesn't want to struggle with her finances any longer...
Did her dream just come true?
—
Author's Note: Hi guys, just thought of this random story, I don't know what to do with it yet honestly. I don't know it's worthy enough to be continued.
I need to know what you think. If you enjoyed the first chapter. Comments or reviews are highly welcome if you like me to continue with it. Thank you!