A May spring breeze drifted south along Southampton's port, tracing the path of the Titanic, and out towards the vast English Channel. On quaint, clean Lingang Street, people strolled, the air already buzzing with youthful energy and the flash of mini-skirts, though summer was still weeks away. Julian stood outside Costa Coffee on the corner, his eyes fixed on the shop's reflective glass, not on the skirts or the whispering blond couple inside, but on his own reflection. A young, handsome, and utterly bewildered face stared back.
He pulled out his iPhone 4, the screen flashing 11:38 AM, May 20th, 2010... Could it be? Had he been reborn? And back to his UK high school days, no less? Just moments ago, his last memory was of November 2022, celebrating a hometown team's unexpected victory with friends, the night dissolving into a hazy blur. Now, he was standing in Southampton, outside a Costa Coffee. The Qatar World Cup... he hadn't even seen it yet!
The familiar Southampton sea breeze swirled around him, and Julian struggled to contain the rush of emotions. But a grin spread across his face, wide and unrestrained. "I've hit the jackpot!" he thought. "After all those online novels, it's finally my turn!" A life of regrets, of wrong turns... finally, a chance to... Hold on, hold on! Don't jinx it yet! At least he'd gained back twelve years of youth!
"Drip-drip-" His phone rang, cutting through his thoughts. Julian frowned, a memory surfacing. Clara Evans, his classmate and landlady's daughter, a Southampton Private High School belle. Smart, talented, and destined to play "Sansa" in "Game of Thrones" in just six months. A future star he'd completely overlooked in his past life, too focused on studies to notice the landlady's daughter's rising fame.
He answered the phone. "Good afternoon..."
"Seriously? You've been grinning like an idiot outside for five minutes, and 'good afternoon' is all I get?" Clara's voice crackled with annoyance. "Do you want the whole school laughing at me, Clara Evans, for having a boyfriend who acts like a fool?"
Julian remembered their "dating" arrangement, a fake relationship to ward off unwanted attention. Clara, unimpressed by her suitors, had enlisted Julian's help in exchange for English poetry tutoring. Today was their first "public date." A charade that had lasted only four weeks in his previous life, cut short by Clara's "Game of Thrones" audition.
"I've been talking, and you just 'good afternoon' me?" Clara continued, her voice sharp. "Even if it's an act, you signed a contract, right? Seriously, you Asians are all study, study, study, but can't even fake a date? Get in here, and stop dawdling!" She hung up.
Julian chuckled, a mix of amusement and exasperation. He opened the cafe door, the aroma of coffee and the soft melody of the "Titanic" theme song filling his senses. Scanning the cafe for Clara, he didn't see the waitress hurrying towards him with a tray. They collided, coffee cups flying.
With quick reflexes, Julian steadied the tray, but the cups still clattered to the floor, spilling coffee everywhere. "I'm so sorry, sir!" the waitress apologized.
Julian replied automatically, and a system notification popped into his mind: "Sensing 38 points of negative emotion from Tina Simpson, bubbles forming..."
Tina Simpson, the waitress? 38 points of negative emotion? He hadn't expected such resentment from the apologetic woman. Of course, the spilled coffee, the mess, the potential scolding from her boss...
Wait, bubbles? Had he gained powers along with his second chance? Julian noticed a dark, glowing bubble near the waitress's feet, about ten centimeters in diameter. No one else seemed to notice.
He casually touched the bubble with his foot, and it burst into light, flowing into his body. "Skill acquired: hand pour +1, daily pickup progress 1/10."
Hand pour? An hour of pouring coffee without hand cramps? Seriously? He wasn't planning on becoming a barista! What kind of skill was that?
"Julian, over here! What are you doing standing there?" Clara's voice cut through his thoughts. She was sitting in a corner, her tall, elegant figure and striking features drawing attention. Even at sixteen, she was 175cm tall, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a model's physique.
"Sensing 17 points of negative emotion from Clara Evans, system bubbles forming..." Julian, feeling like he couldn't catch a break, headed towards Clara, leaving a trail of bubbles behind him.