Chapter 2: New Life, New Rules
The Malibu beach house looked exactly like the set. Because, well… it was. Only now, I wasn't watching it from a couch with a bag of chips—I was in it.
Judith sat stiffly on the brown leather couch, legs crossed, arms folded, wearing the expression of a woman who regretted every decision that led her here. Across from her, Alan had perched on the coffee table, shoulders hunched, hands clasped like a defendant waiting for a guilty verdict.
Spoiler: he was guilty.
"I'm miserable, Alan," Judith snapped, her voice tight with years of pent-up resentment. "Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to be married to a man who alphabetizes the condiments?"
Alan threw up his hands. "It's efficient, Judith!" he countered, like an overworked accountant trying to justify a failed audit. "And you know what's exhausting? Living with someone who thinks 'feng shui' is a valid reason to throw out a perfectly good couch!"
I stood near the stairs, backpack hanging off my shoulder, doing my best impression of the old Jake—silent, unfocused, human furniture.
But inside?
Inside, my brain was on fire.
It felt like a supercomputer had been shoved into my skull, running a thousand calculations per second. I analyzed Judith's posture—dominant, predatory, built to cut Alan down in as few words as possible. Alan's was defensive, every movement a subconscious plea for validation. I saw through it all—the bitterness, the power struggle, the toxic cycle playing out in real-time.
And these two dysfunctional disasters? They were my parents now.
Lucky. Freaking. Me.
Judith barely spared me a glance. "Jake, go find your Uncle Charlie. He's probably passed out upstairs with some floozy."
"Floozy?" I muttered. "Who still says that?"
Alan waved me off like a man dismissing a waiter at a restaurant he couldn't afford. "Just—go ahead, buddy. We'll… finish up down here."
I turned without a word and started up the stairs.
That's when it really hit me.
The air smelled like ocean breeze and stale whiskey. My legs felt lighter, faster. Every step was effortless. I reached the landing and caught my reflection in the hallway mirror.
Damn.
Even at ten years old, I looked… different. Not just better—but ridiculously better. My bone structure was refined, my jawline sharper, my hair somehow styled like I had a personal grooming team. This wasn't "cute kid" good looks. This was future heartbreak level.
And then there was my mind. A literal genius-level IQ humming under the surface, processing everything at lightning speed.
I glanced back down the staircase, where Alan and Judith were still mid-argument, completely unaware of the storm they had just unleashed into their world.
I leaned against the railing and smirked.
"New life. New rules."
I had the brains. I had the looks.
Now, all I needed… was a plan.