Bailonz Street 13

His expression seemed to say, “You asked for it.” I shrugged and pulled my leg out of the pit. Then, without any hesitation, I turned away. Those guys, realizing the situation, started scrambling up the mound of dirt, shouting frantically.

“Hey, Dylan! Dylan! We were wrong!”

“Yeah, we messed up! Don’t leave us here!”

Familiar voices.

I walked on wearily until their cries faded away. Honestly, I was exhausted. I never imagined I’d get lost in a place like this. But to be lost in time and space? How many more times would I have to go through this?

Whether I was in despair or not, my body instinctively remembered its destination. I saw a familiar school. There was no way I could mistake it. I muttered softly to myself.

“Cambridge?”

Slowly, a specific memory associated with Cambridge surfaced in my mind.

“We took the same classes at Cambridge, didn’t we?”

It was a voice I had almost forgotten. The face was half-remembered. But now that the memory had resurfaced, I couldn’t ignore the uneasy assumption forming in my mind. That this place, like just now, was part of Liam’s ‘past.’

I moved forward. The security guard looked startled by my disheveled appearance. I considered walking past him but then decided to speak up.

“Excuse me. There’s a pit in the forest.”

“Pardon?”

“Four people are stuck in there. I tried to get them out but failed. Can you call for help?”

Honestly, I wasn’t too worried about any repercussions. They had tasted defeat once and wouldn’t dare mess with me again. Those guys would rather claim they accidentally fell in a pit than admit they were beaten up and trapped by Dylan Vermilton.

Ignoring the guard who asked if I was okay, I began to trudge away. I needed to change my clothes. Fortunately, my synchronization with this body seemed sufficient, and I didn’t lack knowledge about Cambridge. This was a place where the city and university were combined, with students staying in lodgings downtown instead of separate dormitories. It seemed to be a long-standing tradition. Dylan had a place near the law school.

“Dylan, at least your accommodation is decent,” I muttered, impressed by the surprisingly clean boarding house. I sensed someone behind me.

“What’s with that look?”

It was a nonchalant voice, but how could I forget it? I turned my head with a hint of joy. Black hair, thick, straight eyebrows. His handsome face made me gasp.

“L… Moore.”

I almost said his name but managed to call out his surname just in time. Liam gave a slight nod. He was holding a paper bag, probably with some groceries.

He looked older and more mature than the eighteen-year-old Liam I remembered. He had shed most of his boyishness but still didn’t fully seem like an adult.

“What are you doing standing there?”

Liam asked. I pulled the door handle, but it was locked. I didn’t have a key. I pointed to my empty pockets and shabby appearance, muttering pathetically.

“Moore, I don’t have a key.”

Liam clicked his tongue and shoved the paper bag into my arms. He stepped forward and unlocked the door.

“You probably lost it while getting beaten up again.”

“Your insight never fails to amaze.”

I couldn’t help but blurt out. Liam glanced at me briefly. I explained.

“You always talk like you can see through people.”

“What’s with you suddenly talking to me?”

Compared to the younger Liam, his words were much more restrained. Maybe he had mellowed out a bit. I shrugged, hiding my satisfaction at his growth.

“Anyone would lose their nerve after nearly getting buried alive.”

“So, they finally crossed the line?”

“It’s fine. I paid them back.”

I tried to step inside the house, but Liam hissed, stopping me in my tracks. He sounded like he was scolding a seven-year-old.

“Don’t even think about coming into our shared house with dirty feet.”

Then, he threw a towel at me.

“Take off your clothes.”

“If I take these off, I’ll be naked.”

“No dirt allowed.”

“When did you start caring about cleanliness?”

“Take them off.”

Holding back tears, I apologized to Dylan Bermilton’s body. Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to strip you in front of another guy. It wasn’t even your choice.

Reluctantly, I took off my shirt first, feeling a bit less self-conscious. Liam handed me a laundry basket.

“Put them in.”

“Are you going to keep watching?”

“Pants too.”

Fine, I’ll take them off. I closed my eyes and pulled down my pants. At least I had underwear on. It should be okay. Dylan’s dignity might be a bit scratched, but it’ll be fine after a quick wash.

I quietly grabbed a house robe from the nearby hanger, put it on, and stepped off my shoes into slippers. I was ready to head to the bathroom.

“Is this good enough?”

Finally, Liam moved aside from blocking the entrance. I sighed and walked past him. His piercing gaze still seemed to follow me, but I had no energy for a conversation. After being forced to strip, what was there to say?

Even amidst this, Dylan’s body was dutifully providing me with information about his residence. Dylan used the second floor; the bathroom was on the second floor. Liam Moore stayed on the first floor. The kitchen was also on the first floor.

My impression of this was:

“You guys have a whole house to yourselves?”

Wow, they must be rich….

＊ ＊ ＊

I needed to wash off the dirt, but it was someone else’s body. And it wasn’t even Liam Moore’s body. I couldn’t bear to see another man’s naked body. So, I compromised by closing my eyes tightly. I tried to keep them shut for most of the washing. It was my way of respecting Dylan’s body. I wasn’t sure if Dylan would appreciate it, though.

Maybe I opened my eyes briefly while getting into the bathtub? It took over thirty minutes to wash out all the dirt and leaves from my hands and scalp. Once I finished and stepped out, I finally got a good look at the face of the body I had taken over.

“Wow.”

Liam Moore had a rather somber aura, but Dylan Bermilton looked even gloomier. He seemed like someone carrying all the world’s misfortunes.

His messy fringe covered his eyebrows and poked his eyes. His blond hair was stiff like a broomstick, even though he had enough products to take care of it. The curly texture made it look even worse.

I fiddled with the wet fringe. The young man in the mirror moved his hand to touch his fringe just as I did. I muttered to myself.

“No one else would look as shabby as you, Dylan, even after a wash.”

Dylan Bermilton had striking blue eyes, but they were hidden by his fringe. If he wore his hair up or at least cut it shorter, he’d look much better.

“At your age, you should style your hair, dress nicely, and maybe date like everyone else.”

I rummaged through the bathroom shelves and found a pair of scissors. I started cutting his fringe slowly.

While I was in this body, I’d make sure no one underestimated Dylan. First impressions were crucial.

I carefully trimmed his hair, leaving it in a neat, round shape. It took less than ten minutes to find some clothes in the wardrobe, put them on, and step out of the room.

A delicious smell filled the house. It was coming from downstairs. The smell made me realize how hungry I was. I wasn’t sure if Dylan had eaten, but I hadn’t had anything. It was already past five in the evening.

I impatiently trotted down the stairs and found Liam Moore lounging at the kitchen table. He had his feet propped up on another chair and was engrossed in a newspaper. He looked like a loafer. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his shirt was loosely buttoned.

He glanced up at my approach. I stared blankly at him for a moment, then pointed at the food on the table.

“Moore, did you make this?”

Liam nodded indifferently.

Wow, glasses. The glasses suited Liam surprisingly well. He peered at me over the newspaper with a look that said, “Why aren’t you sitting down?”

His expression changed subtly as he took in my altered appearance.

“You trimmed your hair.”