Chapter 2:A Second Chance

Pain.

It was the first thing Ethan Blake felt.

A crushing pain spread through his chest as if the truck had hit him only a second ago. His body jerked violently, and he sat upright in bed, gasping for breath. Cold sweat covered his forehead as his heart pounded wildly against his ribs.

"I'm... alive?"

He looked around in confusion.

There were no flashing ambulance lights. No hospital machines. No smell of disinfectant. Instead, he found himself in a modest bedroom that he knew better than anywhere else in the world.

The faded blue walls.

The old wooden desk covered with scattered sheets of music.

The secondhand keyboard by the window.

The worn guitar leaning against the wardrobe.

Every detail was exactly the same.

His breathing became uneven.

"This is... my room."

He threw the blanket aside and stumbled toward the mirror hanging on the wall.

The young man staring back at him was unmistakably Ethan, but not the broken man who had died on a rainy highway.

His face looked younger.

His eyes were brighter.

The small scar on his chin, which he had gotten after years of stress and exhaustion, was gone.

He touched his own reflection with trembling fingers.

"No..."

"This can't be real."

His gaze suddenly landed on the calendar hanging beside the door.

April 12.

Three years earlier.

The calendar slipped from his hand and landed on the floor with a soft thud.

His legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the bed.

Three years.

He had returned to three years before the national music competition.

Before Jason stole his songs.

Before the public humiliation.

Before his father's betrayal.

Before his death.

Tears rolled silently down his cheeks.

He remembered everything with painful clarity.

The spotlight.

The applause.

Jason standing on stage singing Ethan's masterpiece.

His father looking at him with disappointment instead of trust.

The cold laughter during the phone call.

The truck.

The darkness.

Then...

Nothing.

Yet somehow fate had turned back time.

A second chance.

Ethan laughed softly, though tears continued to stream down his face.

"Thank you..."

"I don't know who gave me this chance..."

"But I won't waste it."

A loud knock interrupted his thoughts.

"Ethan!"

His father's voice echoed from outside the room.

"Stop sleeping! Jason will be here any minute."

The smile on Ethan's face instantly disappeared.

Jason.

Today.

His memory raced.

He remembered this exact day.

It was the afternoon Jason had asked to see his newest composition.

Back then Ethan had been overjoyed that his older brother finally wanted to support him.

He had handed Jason his notebook without hesitation.

Weeks later, the notebook mysteriously disappeared.

Months after that...

Jason became famous with Ethan's songs.

Never again.

Ethan walked to his desk and opened the black notebook lying there.

His fingers gently brushed over the handwritten lyrics.

Every page represented countless sleepless nights

Every melody had come from his own heart.

He carefully removed every completed song from the notebook.

Then he knelt beside his bed and pulled out an old metal cookie tin that his late mother had once used to store sewing supplies.

He smiled sadly as memories of her flashed through his mind.

"You always told me to protect the things I loved."

"This time I will."

He folded the pages neatly and placed them inside the tin before locking it with a tiny padlock.

Only after hiding it beneath a loose floorboard did he breathe a sigh of relief.

Next, he grabbed another empty notebook.

Within twenty minutes he had filled several pages with unfinished melodies, random chord progressions, and meaningless lyrics that sounded impressive but led nowhere.

If Jason insisted on stealing something...

He could steal garbage.

Satisfied, Ethan headed downstairs.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen.

His father, Richard Blake, sat comfortably in the living room reading the newspaper.

Across from him sat Jason Carter.

Jason looked exactly as Ethan remembered.

Perfectly styled hair.

Expensive designer clothes.

A warm smile that fooled everyone.

The picture of the ideal son.

The moment Jason saw Ethan, he stood up with open arms.

"Ethan! There you are."

"It's been too long."

Instinctively, Ethan wanted to step back.

Instead, he forced himself to smile politely.

"Good morning."

Jason paused for a fraction of a second before lowering his arms.

His smile never faded.

"I heard you've been writing a lot lately."

Richard folded his newspaper.

"I've been telling Jason that your music has improved."

"You should thank him for encouraging you."

Ethan almost laughed.

Encouraging him?

Jason had spent years stealing his confidence one lie at a time.

Every compliment from Richard had always been directed toward Jason.

Every mistake Ethan made had been criticized.

Nothing had changed.

Only Ethan had.

"I'm still learning," Ethan replied calmly.

Jason nodded approvingly.

"That's the right attitude."

The three of them ate lunch together.

Jason spent the entire meal charming Richard with funny stories and polite conversation.

Anyone watching them would believe they were a loving family.

Only Ethan noticed the tiny details.

The calculating glances.

The fake concern.

The carefully rehearsed kindness.

Jason wasn't visiting because he cared.

He was hunting.

Finally, the moment Ethan had been waiting for arrived.

Jason leaned forward with an easy smile.

"By the way, Ethan..."

"I heard you've finished your newest song."

"I've been dying to hear it."

Richard immediately looked at Ethan.

"Go get your notebook."

"Your brother wants to support you."

Ethan scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I wish I could."

Jason frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't find it."

"I've looked everywhere."

"I think I lost it."

For the first time, Ethan saw genuine surprise flicker across Jason's face.

Only for a heartbeat.

Then the smile returned.

"You lost your notebook?"

"That's unfortunate."

"It contained all your songs, didn't it?"

Ethan nodded.

"Every single one."

Jason's fingers tightened around his coffee cup.

"So... you don't remember any of them?"

Ethan shrugged.

"Not really."

"I guess I'll have to start over."

Silence settled over the room.

Richard sighed.

"I've told you countless times to be more responsible."

"You'll never become a successful musician if you're always careless."

The familiar criticism no longer hurt.

Instead...

Ethan noticed Jason carefully studying his expression.

Trying to determine whether he was telling the truth.

Ethan lowered his head, pretending to feel ashamed.

Inside...

He smiled.

For the first time in both their lives...

Jason didn't know where the songs were.

And that meant the game had finally changed.

Jason remained unusually quiet after lunch.

That alone told Ethan everything he needed to know.

In his previous life, Jason had left the house with Ethan's notebook tucked safely inside his bag, believing his younger brother would never suspect him. But today, he couldn't leave with what he had come for because there was nothing to steal.

Ethan excused himself and returned to his room, but he didn't close the door completely. Instead, he left it slightly open and stood where he could see the hallway through the narrow gap.

He waited.

Five minutes passed.

Ten.

Just as he expected, soft footsteps crept up the stairs.

Jason.

Ethan held his breath.

Jason glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching before quietly pushing open Ethan's bedroom door.

So you couldn't resist," Ethan thought.

Jason moved carefully around the room, pretending to admire the keyboard and guitar. A moment later, he began opening drawers.

One by one.

The desk drawer.

The wardrobe.

The shelf above the bed.

Even the space beneath the mattress.

His movements were calm and practiced, as though this wasn't the first time he had searched someone else's room.

Ethan clenched his fists.

In his previous life, he had believed the notebook had simply disappeared.

Now he knew the truth.

Jason had been stealing from him all along.

After several minutes of searching, Jason frowned.

Where is it?" he muttered under his breath.

He searched again, becoming less careful this time.

Still nothing.

Finally, he let out a quiet sigh and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Only after the footsteps disappeared did Ethan step out from behind the wardrobe.

His eyes burned with anger.

So it wasn't just my imagination.

You really did it.

For years, people had called him paranoid whenever he complained that his songs kept disappearing.

Now he had witnessed the theft attempt with his own eyes.

He pulled out his phone and stared at it for a long moment.

He had made one mistake in his previous life.

He had trusted words instead of evidence.

This time...

He would collect proof.

That evening, Ethan rode his bicycle to a nearby electronics store.

After comparing prices, he bought the smallest hidden camera he could afford with the money he had saved from teaching neighborhood children how to play the piano.

The shop owner smiled as he packed it.

It's tiny, but the battery lasts nearly twelve hours.

Ethan nodded.

That's exactly what I need.

On the way home, he stopped by a stationery shop and bought several identical music notebooks.

From the outside, they all looked exactly the same.

Only Ethan knew which one contained real songs and which ones were filled with meaningless notes.

If Jason wants to steal," he whispered to himself, "I'll decide what he steals.

Late that night, while the rest of the house slept, Ethan unlocked the hidden tin beneath the floorboard.

He carefully spread his original compositions across the bed.

The pages represented years of hard work.

Looking at them now, he noticed something he had ignored before.

Some songs weren't ready.

Others could be better.

Back then, he had been so desperate for recognition that he had rushed to finish them.

Now he had three extra years.

Three years to improve every lyric.

Three years to master every melody.

Three years to become the musician he had always dreamed of being.

A slow smile spread across his face.

Jason...

You didn't just give me another chance.

"You gave me time."

The next morning, Ethan installed the tiny camera on the top shelf of his bookshelf, carefully hiding it behind a row of old music theory books.

From there, it captured almost the entire room.

Anyone entering would be recorded.

Including Jason.

As he tested the angle, his phone buzzed with a message.

Jason: Hey, little brother. Sorry about yesterday. I really wanted to hear your new song. Maybe next time?

Ethan stared at the screen.

In the past, he would have believed the message was sincere.

Now it looked like bait.

He typed a short reply.

Ethan: Sure. Maybe next time.

A few seconds later, Jason responded with a smiling emoji.

Ethan locked his phone and laughed quietly.

Keep pretending.

I'll pretend too.

Because from today onward, neither of them was simply a brother.

They were opponents.

One had spent years stealing dreams.

The other had returned from death to take them back.

And when they finally stood on the same stage again...

Only one of them would leave to the sound of applause.