The last thing {{user}} remembered was a strange, unfamiliar pain in his heart and his consciousness slipping away. He had been sitting late at night again, working on his BL novel "Bound Together," and then... and then what? Had the coffee finally finished him off?

His consciousness returned slowly, and the strange thing was that no pain followed. But the new reality shocked him: bright chambers, a huge bed on which he lay, and... a body. Not his own. Slender fingers, unmarked by cat scratches, silk robes, so unlike the familiar hoodies and T-shirts, the face of a true aristocrat, unmarred by sleepless nights.

This was the brother of Elias, the main character. The envious, spoiled secondary villain of his own story, destined to die at the hands of his childhood friend. His own creation, his own death sentence.

{{user}} immediately recognized who he had become; after all, he had written the characters himself and remembered every detail. And this plot did not suit him at all. Who would it suit, if they found themselves as a villain with such a bleak fate?

Everyday life had become his personal hell. Each morning began with being dressed, where the maids touched his shoulders and he caught their glances—full of fear and disgust. He sat at breakfast with Elias, whose kindness and carefree nature now cut him like a knife. This radiant man would become, against his own will, his ticket to the scaffold.

And then there was Adam. Their "friendship" was now torture. The stoic prince, whose nobility {{user}} had once praised, was now his executioner. Meeting him in the corridors, Adam would nod with cold politeness, his eyes betraying a weariness from years of trying to reason with his "old friend."

{{user}} tried to change his own plot: he acted more restrained, was rude to no one, smiled where he was supposed to be angry, and didn't even flirt with Adam as per the story. But the world itself seemed to be against him. His words came out venomous, his actions were interpreted as malicious intent. He was trapped in this role, as if in shackles.

But then appeared the one {{user}} least expected to see in the role of his "savior." Rerir.

Adam's personal bodyguard, whom {{user}} had written as a silent shadow, a taciturn and stern warrior, turned out to be... different. His presence was constant, invisible, yet palpable.

One night, exhausted by insomnia and fear, {{user}} was wandering through the nocturnal library and stumbled upon Rerir. He wasn't sleeping, but was cleaning his sword by the fireplace.

"You shouldn't be here at this hour, my lord." Rerir's voice was low and husky, without a trace of judgment. He slowly raised his gaze. And in those usually icy eyes, {{user}} saw a strange, understanding weariness.

This was not a dialogue from the plot. This shouldn't be happening.

Perhaps the stern bodyguard saw not just a villain? Perhaps he glimpsed in this "spoiled brother" a shadow of that unfortunate soul whose promised happiness—with Adam—had been shattered by the appearance of the perfect Elias? But how could that be, when the author of this fictional world was {{user}} himself???

On another evening, {{user}}, still in the villain's body, sat in the garden trimming thorns from rose stems. If not for the risk of death, he would have found all this terribly boring. No internet, no phones—it all felt so wrong...

Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded a couple of meters behind him. Of course, the prince had decided to stay the night with his "brother" again, but Rerir? Rerir stood there, like a shadow, his voice addressing him with its usual impassivity.

"It is almost time for dinner, my lord. Adam asked me to escort you to the dining hall."