Chapter 1: RISE AND SHINE

"I am someone's child."

It's like trying to hear from the other side of a door. The words come to him muted and far away. He tries extending his hand to open the door, but he finds some kind of cables attached to his arm. When he looks down, an IV stuck with tape connects him to a fluid bag. With a grunt, he sits on the bed. How come does everything hurt so much?

The golden street lights come through the window, giving the hospital room a rather whimsical vibe, otherwise covered in the shadows of the night. He feels the cold floor in his bare feet as he slowly manages to stumble across the room toward the bathroom, using the IV stand as a sort of cane. His hands tremble from the effort of carrying himself so far.

The bruises and cuts do not surprise him as much as the face that does not belong to him. He reaches up one hand, and the reflection mirrors his movement. His hair is long and tangled, a darker shade of blond than his own. One of his eyes is swollen shut, and the bruises extend to his temple. There is a huge scab in his lips. A thin line crosses his neck. His knuckles are pink and raw.

Whoever this person is, he fought until the end. Noah wonders if he himself had fought the same. He does not remember.

"They said you wouldn't wake up", Noah spins around to face the origin of the voice.

A young man is leaning against the doorframe in a seemingly relaxed stance, with his tattooed arms crossed over his chest. He is grinning. Even though there is nothing alarming in his casual clothes, or his long brown hair in a bun, Noah feels a sense of danger and warning emanating from him... while a wave familiarity washes over his thoughts.

Threat. Home. Safe. Dangerous. Two split personalities seem to be fighting over who this stranger is. Noah guesses the body he has stolen had a personal history with this man. Maybe they were friends, maybe the remnants of their memories together is influencing his thoughts.

There are too many questions, about this stranger and the implications of having a body that is not his.

"I'm tired", he responds. The stranger chuckles and leaves room for Noah to go back to bed.

"I knew the docs were wrong. They didn't know the kind of stubborn bastard you are", Noah looks at him across the hospital room. The strangers face is serious know, streaks of golden and shadow decorating an angular face. Is he implying something?

"I guess I need some more time", Noah says, not sure if he means time to be alive, or time to die. He adds, "They must've got me pretty good, I don't remember much". He opens the cabinet next to the bed, where he finds the personal items of his stolen meat suit. There isn't much left in a clear bag.

"The nurses collected your clothes. The cops are at it, but... Don't expect much", the stranger gets closer.

Noah takes a small wallet. There is an ID inside identifying the stolen body as Riley. The small photo is a younger version of the reflection in the mirror. His eyes look back at him with an accusing smile. He counts the cash, and looks at the debit card. Noah must figure out a lot about Riley if he wants to live as him. If he plans to borrow Riley's body, how much time does Noah have until Riley's soul reclaims the body?

Next in the personal items is a crumpled photo folded in half. It's stained in dried blood. Five people are sitting in a club. Riley is one of them, and the stranger is also present, holding hands with a girl with green hair. At the far end, two boys are sitting together; the one with a buzzcut has an arm around a guy with dark clothes and red hair that is not smiling, whose eyes stare into someone's soul. If so, Noah notices the guy in the red hair is slightly turned away.

He places the photo in the auxiliary table, soothing the edges with his bruised hands. Riley. Riley.

"Riley", the stranger's breath is warm agains the back of his neck, Noah escapes the proximity and climbs to the bed, and looks at the young man. When Noah tries to force a smile, the stranger seems even more conflicted. A strange shadow crosses his face, and it's gone before Noah can really register it. "They really messed you up, you're even smiling now."

"Should I scream in rage?", and Noah is surprised by the genuine curiosity in his voice.

"That's more like it", the stranger says nodding, a little smile curving his lips. With no previous warning, Noah screams at the top of his lungs. The young man rushes to his side and clamps his mouth shut with a hand.

"Jesus fucking Christ, that's not what I meant", the stranger says with an incredulous look. "You're as crazy as always, sorry I doubted you"

Noah just shrugs, and gives him a thumbs up.

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Before the silence can settle between them, the door to the room slams open. Noah recognizes the green hair before he even does her face. She's wearing a similar dress, white and tight, with lavender flowers and ruffles at the seams. She comes running, her platform shoes thumping in the tiles, and her gaze demanding, ready to fight. Noah wonders if she wants to fight for him or with him.

"Duncan, what the hell?", she narrows her eyes and points an accusatory finger in the direction of the stranger. The girl looks at Noah, a quick uncertain glance and a sideways grimace. She leans toward Duncan, and she whispers, "Is it weirdo things?"

But Noah does not care for the answer, for he notices the boy that awaits next to the door, where the street lights do not reach. His hair is black, but the streaks of red are as vibrant as fresh blood. His clothes are black, the only color breaking out the little parches of the jacket. His combat boots would fracture bones if used with enough force. He is suddenly conscious of the state of Riley's battered body, and he feels his cheeks warm up. If the guy notices, he does not react. In Noah's mind, his unmoving posture and stoic expression reminded him of a book about mythology. The Sphinx that would obliterate the travelers that did not solve the riddle. Would the boy devour him if he failed to untangle this mess?

The boy's piercing gaze is on him. There is nothing. Noah turns his attention to Duncan and the girl, but he keeps that boy within his peripheral vision. The girl is looking at him. And Duncan too. Noah feels the weight of fatigue in his limbs, the pain of the tender skin and the anxiousness of a meeting for which he is not prepared. He clears his throat under the vigilant gaze of the trio, but his voice still raspy as he muses "I don't remember much". He is not lying.

"Was it Sam? Were you in a battle of assholes?", the girl's comment throws Noah off. "I told you one day you would get what you deserved"

"Eve, for fuck's sake, cut him some slack. This guy right here must have a bruised ego, don't knock him down further.", but he is grinning. Was he enjoying humiliating him? Maybe they weren't friends.

Eve sighs, "True. He hasn't even tried to thrash the room."

Noah frowns. So Riley was that type of person. That explains the ambivalent reaction of Duncan. Such as facing a caged animal. And Eve's nervous glances. Noah looked at the boy in the door. Would he also feel the same toward him?

"I don't know if it was Sam. How long was I knocked out?"

Duncan replies, "A week. You were as good as dead when the cops found you. We though we lost you", and Noah doesn't know how much of that is genuine worry. His thoughts feel like mud, a headache starting to form. He rubs his eyes.

"Anyways," Eve says, "did you find out who is behind Sam?"

Noah shakes his head, and a wave of pain shoots up to his eyes. The mysterious guy is still observing him, and he notices the pang of fear. None of them really like Riley, but they clearly need something from him. The problem is Riley is not really Riley. For a moment, he considers telling them the truth. Maybe if they know his predicament, they can help him investigate his own death. He's not really at fault for whatever Riley did before he took on his body. If they understand that...

"That Noah guy must've had a hell of a lot of connections", Duncan exclaims with an edge to his voice. And Noah almost chokes on his saliva.

It had to be a coincidence, right?

"What?", he mused.

Duncan fished in the pocket of his jeans, and produced a newspaper article that had been handled far too many times. The paper was ripping, and the text was discolored. But it read fine: NOAH DAVIES STILL MISSING. If there was any doubt, the printed picture of Noah in his school uniform cleared his doubts. His hair was shorter, and he was younger, but he would've recognized his real image even as a baby. His hands trembled slightly as he continued reading the heading: THE SEARCH FOR THE PRESUMED KILLER OF LEONARDA PATTERSON STILL CONTINUES.

"I'll destroy this motherfucker's life", Duncan says, anger no longer an edge in his voice, "if Sam decides to be in our way, we'll have to take care of him, too."

Too tired to process the absolute threat of Duncan, Noah's vision blurred. The headache was killing him...

He slouched to the side, and barely registered the muffled voices around him. He just wanted to sleep.

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