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Laurence stood in front of a full-length mirror in an unfamiliar room, frowning as a lean male stranger stared back at him. He ran his fingers across his left cheek, amazed at how smooth it felt under his touch.

The burn mark he had borne on his face for ten years could no longer be found. Instead, cute little freckles scattered across the bridge of a small nose and adorned the olive cheekbones.

Laurence swept back the shoulder-length, wolf-cut hair from his forehead to reveal the pale green strands underneath the dark mane. Pressing his palm against the surface of the mirror, he leaned forward and studied the gold flecks of hazel eyes.

He drew away, contended with checking out his current physical features, and heaved a sigh. There wasn't really anything about this form that belonged to him.

A picture of what he had looked like before the accident cropped up in Laurence's mind. He recalled how all those heavy lifting under the sun for years had made his limbs toned and his complexion a darker shade of brown. His irises also used to be umber, like one of the most common colors of Perlientans' eyes, while his short, black hair had a simple fade cut. Everything he remembered about his body was in sharp contrast to the appearance that was presently reflected in the mirror.

The song 'Jingle Bells' played from the outside, causing Laurence to turn his head in the direction of the music. He walked to the window and pushed the verdant curtain to the side.

Twinkling fairy lights illuminated the surroundings at night while a group of youth strolled in the streets, caroling in the neighborhood. As they chanted about white ground and sleighs, Laurence mused on how the lyrics didn't truly fit in this tropical nation. And yet, people of Perlientas had never needed snow to enjoy the Yuletide season to the fullest.

He swiveled on his heels, sat on the edge of an emerald double bed, and observed the room furnished with all shades of green. His gaze rested on the mint-colored calendar blocks on a bedside cabinet showing September 04.

Reaching for the wooden decoration, Laurence fixed up the two small cubes to display 19 and placed the rectangular stick bearing the month of December on top. He looked back at the window as the enthusiastic singing of the children went on.

It had been two months since he had woken up in the hospital. After a couple of weeks of physical therapy, he had regained his strength to talk and walk again. And today, just a week before Christmas, he was finally allowed to go home so he could spend the holidays with his family.

The medical professionals had deemed him extraordinary for returning to health in a very short time. They said most coma survivors would take at least a year of treatment before they could function normally again. That he had bypassed the long agonizing rehabilitation; his case was nothing short of a miracle.

But Laurence knew better. He knew something that everyone else, even the specialists, didn't. A situation way more bizarre than his unusually quick recovery had befallen him.

He held his hand up, an odd sensation resurfacing inside him as he could only see a dainty, soft-looking palm instead of the hideous scars.

"Florence, my dear, can I come in?" A short, middle-aged woman peeked her head through the door.

Laurence rose to his feet just as his guest approached. Despite being taller than the older woman by a few centimeters, he had felt as if everything and everyone around him had grown in height since the time he had awoken.

"What's up, M–" He faltered and averted his eyes, uncertain how Florence Villena used to behave toward his family.

During the past two months, Laurence had been too focused on physical therapy, and there had not been enough opportunity for him to chatter with anyone. The woman had often visited him in the hospital, together with Florence's older sister, Jade, but this might be the first time he had the chance to have a proper conversation with any of them.

With no idea how to conduct himself as the person whose body he'd possessed, Laurence settled for a more respectful tone. "How's everything going, Mom?"

"It's okay, Florence. Please don't force yourself for now," said the woman in a benign, shaky voice. She clasped the young man's hands. "It must still have been awkward for you, so you can call me Mrs. Villena or just Camila in the meantime if you want. I don't mind, and I can wait patiently until you learn to get used to us again."

Guilt pricked Laurence once he saw Mrs. Villena's feeble smile, that was accompanied by the unshed tears in her eyes.

"That's not it, Mom," he muttered, the last word leaving a bittersweet aftertaste on his tongue.

Laurence recalled the first words he had told the Villena mother-and-daughter duo in the hospital as soon as he'd found his voice back.

"I can't remember anything. I'm sorry."

The expression of distress on the women's faces had prodded at his conscience then, but he had no other choice. As much as he was sorry for these people, as much as he knew lying to them about a serious issue involving their loved one was a horrible thing to do, it was the best excuse Laurence could think of that came closest to the reality and would shock the guy's family the least.

After all, there was no way Laurence could explain the whole circumstance when even he was at a loss about what was going on. No matter how hard he had chewed over it for weeks, he could not figure out why he had suddenly transmigrated into this stranger's body. He didn't know what had happened to the real Florence Villena, nor did he have any idea where his original body was right now.

All he could ascertain based on the places he had seen and the talks of people about famous personalities was that he was still in his actual world, in his home city at Perlientas at the present time.

"Retrograde amnesia," Camila Villena whispered, snatching Laurence out of his thoughts.

He observed the older woman closely and noted that Florence had gotten his hazel eyes and the cute freckles from his mother.

"I've been researching about it on the internet and learned that there was a good possibility of coming out from it. It would be great if you could get your memories back, but I just want you to know that it's fine to take it slowly for now, Florence."

Laurence made a weak smile, not only because of the knowledge that there was no chance in hell he could reclaim something that was never his in the first place, but also because of a question that occurred in his head.

Is that what you really want? If Florence was here and had really gotten amnesia, do you sincerely wish for his memories to return?

He traveled back to the day he had walked in on Camila and Jade in his private room in the hospital after coming back from his therapy session and overheard their conversation.

"Maybe this is what's best for him, after all, Mom. We still don't know what exactly had pushed him to..." Jade had said, her sobs getting in the way of finishing her sentence. "It may be better for Rence to forget. I think it would be easier for him to restart if he doesn't remember a thing. And we should just be grateful that he came back to us alive."

No one had told him about the exact reason Florence had been sent to the hospital; they just said it was an unfortunate incident, but those words from the guy's older sister had provided Laurence with a good picture of what had happened. He understood why Florence's family were reluctant to talk about the subject.

Deciding not to dwell on it for now, Laurence elected to change the topic. "Is it alright if I ask you to just call me Rence?"

Camila's hold tightened, the callus in her palms becoming more noticeable against the young man's hands. Yet, Laurence could also perceive a mother's affection from her tender touch.

"It's just that, somehow, it feels like that nickname is the only thing I'm actually familiar with," he added, answering the woman's quizzical gaze.

A ghost of sincere happiness bloomed on Camila's lips. "Of course, Rence. Of course."

She told Laurence to go down for dinner only if he was comfortable eating with them, and he assured her he would. Once Camila left the room with a relieved expression, Laurence glanced at the mirror one more time.

Is this the universe's way of saying this is the only means for me to keep on living? But why in the body of this guy? Because Florence Villena wanted to die?

Laurence stared at the space. He rubbed his earlobe, not yet used to finding it pierced, as he kept on wondering. Or it's possible the grim reaper in-charge was just an idiot who confused Laurence Villegas with Florence Villena. It's crazy, after all, how even our names sounded similar.

He doubted he would be able to crack this puzzle anytime soon, so Laurence determined the best course of action was to go with the flow for now. Pretend to be Florence Villena, if it meant he could restart this game called life.

❦ . ❦ . ❦

"The company called, asking if it was possible for you to go back to work. Your position has been filled while you were in a coma, but they have been looking for new hires these past few months. The HR said that, if it's you, there's no need to go through another screening, and they can station you back to the main office."

Laurence stopped cutting the beef burger steak on the glass plate and shifted his gaze to the man sitting across from him at the table. He surveyed the person's face, noting how his pragmatic eyes and the short boxed beard around his tight lips accentuated the sternness of his expression.

The older man brought a slice of meat to his mouth, not bothering to spare Rence a glance, as if he'd not just spoken to him.

All this time, Laurence had been convinced that Jade and Florence were fatherless because not once had this person shown his face since his son had woken up in the hospital.

"Father, Rence has just come home after a long time. He's still adjusting to not having any memory of the people around him too. So can we not rush him to do things he's not yet at ease with?"

Laurence lowered his gaze back to his plate as he grew troubled about being caught in the middle of a stranger's family drama. He might have resolved to live in place of Florence, but he still could not shake off the idea that he was intruding into someone else's personal life.

"Ralph, Jade, let's eat in peace, shall we?" Camila chimed in, her voice kind but firm. "Rence, dear, eat a lot, and don't mind them. I made your favorite mango float and we'll have it later for dessert. This burger steak is your favorite too, right?"

Following the older woman's advice, Laurence ignored the tense atmosphere at the table and focused on the food. He took a bite of the patty, a small smile of relish forming on his lips as the savory flavor of the beef and the creaminess of mushroom gravy burst in his mouth.

Laurence sighed internally. It had been a while since he had the privilege of feasting on something this fancy.