The smell of scrambled eggs and toast grounded Liam in a surreal sort of normalcy. He sat at the kitchen table, silently watching Elena hum a tune as she prepared breakfast. Across from him, Nova doodled furiously in her sketchbook, tongue poking out the side of her mouth in concentration.
Liam couldn't stop staring at her.
In his old life, he'd never had a sister. And in this world, she was one of the few people who genuinely cared for him. It was strange—comforting, even—but he couldn't afford to get lost in sentiment.
This wasn't a dream. It was a chance.A gift.A restart.
He glanced at the wall-mounted calendar.
April 5th, 1992.
Or rather, this world's version of 1992. Technology lagged by decades. People still used landlines. Music was dominated by cheesy synth and bubblegum pop. Entertainment was... dull. Predictable. Repetitive.
He had spent years chasing success in the cutthroat indie game scene. Ideas ahead of their time. No support. No funding. No audience that understood. But here?
Here, he could be the future.
"Are you feeling okay, sweetie?" Elena asked, placing a plate in front of him.
Liam blinked. "Yeah, just thinking."
"Well, try not to overheat that brain of yours," she teased. "And no skipping school today. You've missed enough already."
School. Right.
He was eighteen in this world—still a senior in high school. Perfect.
A thousand strategies raced through his mind. Music, movies, games, tech. He could introduce YouTube before YouTube, write scripts that would become billion-dollar franchises, compose global chart-toppers before anyone else ever thought of them.
But he had to start small. Quietly.
Too much too soon would attract the wrong attention.
He stuffed a piece of toast into his mouth, grabbed a notebook, and scribbled the first idea that came to mind:
"Start with a song. Something iconic."
Something simple, nostalgic, and timeless.A melody the world had never heard, but he had memorized like a lullaby.
By the time he made it to school, Liam had already filled ten pages with plans.
His classmates mostly ignored him. In this world, he was the quiet, artistic loner who kept his head down and his grades decent. Not a troublemaker. Not a genius.
But that was about to change.
In the music room, he quietly asked the teacher for a few minutes with the piano. She nodded, not expecting much.
He sat down, flexed his fingers, and closed his eyes.
And then he played.
It was raw. Unpolished. A little rusty.
But the melody—it was magic.
"Let it Be" by The Beatles.
Not a single person in this world had heard it. But as the notes floated through the room, people stopped outside the door to listen. Even the teacher slowly stood, her eyes wide.
When he finished, there was silence. Then—
Applause.
The teacher stepped forward, stunned. "Liam… did you compose that?"
He smiled softly. "Yeah. Just something I've had in my head."
She stared at him like she was seeing him for the first time. "That's… incredible. If you wrote more like that, you could change music."
Liam stood up, notebook in hand.
"That's the plan."
End of Chapter 2