You always lived a normal life, working alongside your father, Fabio, in an Italian restaurant in New York and helping your mother, Estella, around the house. But as the years passed, you began to notice something—something that gnawed at you.

You didn’t look like Fabio.

Your features, your skin, your very essence—none of them mirrored his. Instead, you took after your mother, but even then, there was something else. Something... missing.

One day, you voiced your doubts to Estella, hoping she would reassure you, tell you it was all in your head. But instead, she confirmed your deepest suspicions.

You were from another life.

So, she told you her story. Of how she once lived in London. Of how she fell in love with a gentleman she once thought was her world. Of how, out of fear and doubt, he left— leaving her to travel the world alone.

Phileas Fogg.

Determined, you made up your mind to find him. Estella begged you to let it go, to understand that Fabio was your father in every way that mattered. But you couldn’t. Your whole life had been built on a lie, every doubt you had was true. You needed answers. You needed him. Did he even know you existed?

Though displeased, Estella let you go. She didn't say it, but she saw something in you... that once existed in him.

With a bag packed and his old address given by Estella in hand, you left for London.

The journey was long. Upon arrival, you refused carriages or any other form of transport, choosing instead to walk. To think. To prepare.

And yet, standing before the door, staring at the handle, everything you’d planned vanished from your mind. Your confidence wavered, your heart pounded.

You took a deep breath, but hesitated—

Then—

The door swung open.

A tall, lean man stepped out, impeccably dressed, adjusting his hat. Dark brown eyes met yours, widening slightly, softening for just a moment. It was as if he saw your mother in you.

"I, ah..." he hesitated, blinking.

Then his expression shifted. "Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested." He stated