Noel took a slow breath as the film director shouted,
"Final scene! Everyone in positions!"
Finally!
The word tasted like freedom.
After this movie wrapped, Noel was done with the movie industry. There was no need for fake smiles. No more women's lipstick smearing his jaw for fan service. No more pretending he wasn't very, very gay.
He was going to come out someday... maybe later... when society wouldn't eat him alive. It's not like he cared anyway.
For now, his secret was his alone.
Lights brightened around a grand ballroom set. Everything sparkled in gold and white... chandeliers, marble floors, and his too-tight suit that didn't allow breathing.
Across from him stood Evelina... or rather, the actress playing her, looking beautiful, delicate and meant to be tragically and obsessively in love.
In the story, she would stab him out of twisted devotion... Then she killed herself since she couldn't afford to be away from her beloved.
The end.
It was a tragic story. Classic Romeo and Juliet story or something similar.
Noel smirked to himself.
Not this gay Romeo. There was no way something like that would happen in reality.
"Ready?" the director asked.
Noel nodded. "Let's die beautifully and end this shit!" he whispered, flashing his best award-winning smile.
He positioned himself, held his breath and played the charming noble lover one last time.
"And... Action!" The director's voice rang out.
"Eve, my love," he said, voice trembling with heartbreak... perfectly acted, of course. "We were doomed from the start."
"Doomed? We were meant to be together. Forever. If the world doesn't accept our love..."
The actress stepped closer. Her eyes shook and they looked real.
Too real?
'Hold up. Why does she look like she's actually crying? Such an actress...'
She lifted the knife... the fake prop he'd rehearsed with countless times.
Noel leaned in, ready to be stabbed. It's not like he was going to feel it anyway. It was fake and... Huh?
That's when he suddenly felt it. Pain. The sharp, burning and real pain as he felt the object... Which was a real knife... plunged into his chest.
His eyes widened as his body froze. He couldn't speak. His mouth was soaked and filled with blood.
'What the—?!'His mental thought would have screamed out if it were possible.
The blade pushed deeper into his chest. He felt the warm blood spill even more, soaking the lovely costume he would NOT be paying dry-cleaning for.
The camera kept rolling as everyone's eyes were glued to the screen.
"Oh! That prop looks real!"
"As expected of the A-list actor"
"Look at the colour of that fake blood. It looks so real!"
"Yeah! This movie is going to be a hit!"
He collapsed forward into her arms, as scripted.
But his brain screamed for help as he couldn't say a word. He also couldn't move a finger. He could feel his conscience leaving him slowly, and all he could hear was the rest of Evelina's dialogue scene, and all he could see was the staff praising his acting.
This isn't acting.
This is... Real!
'I'm... I'm dying you fools! Can't you see?'
"Cut!" someone yelled in panic. "Cut! Stop!"
Someone finally noticed, but Noel couldn't move or breathe properly. Voices blurred so did his sight. They finally realised he was dying when he was almost dead. Instead of them rushing him to the hospital, they were still ranting about how it happened.
"It was given to me, I didn't know the knife was real," he heard the female lead's voice.
He felt hands on his shoulders calling his name.
Screams and chaos followed.
'Oh, that must be my manager. This is fantastic. I'm actually dying.'
Because apparently Hollywood wanted REALISM. All he wanted was to conclude his acting life with this final death scene not for him to die while acting in his final movie.
But it was too late. Everything was over.
As his vision darkened, his last dramatic thought was:
'If I get reincarnated... Please give me handsome men. Lots of them.'
Darkness swallowed him whole.
.
.
He woke up to silk first. A soft bed. Heavy curtains. The scent of lavender oil clung to the air. He blinked repeatedly as he tried to realise where he was. It definitely didn't look like the movie set...
'Wow. Hospital budgets are incredible these days,'He thought to himself.
Then he sat up... in a giant carved bed he definitely didn't own and stared around the room.
It looked elegant and super expensive. It had antique furniture, candles instead of lamps. There was no sign of his phone or his manager anywhere. Nor was the sound of traffic or car horns disturbing him.
He blinked as he looked around one more time.
'...This is not a hospital. Where the hell am I?'
The door burst open and a maid rushed in, pale with worry. She was dressed in the usual black and white uniform and her hair was tied in a clean bun.
"Young Master Noel! Oh! Thank goodness you're finally awake!"
'Young Master?'
Noel pointed to himself. "Me?"
"Yes, sir!" She bowed low, her hands trembling like she was scared and she bit her lips, trying not to make any sound that could annoy him.
'Ohhhh no. I'm indeed Noel, but did she mistake me for someone else or...'
He kicked off the blankets, stumbling to a tall mirror. He grabbed it as his left hand brushed the face that looked back at him. It wasn't his handsome and sharp-looking face. This one had a clean jaw, soft pink lips, black wavy hair and hazel eyes with gold flecks. His new body was definitely tall and not so feminine, but he was good-looking.
He lowered his gaze to his clothes, and they were slightly different from his usual clothing styles. He immediately pulled the shirt aside and...
'No stab wound. I was definitely stabbed right here. What the hell is going on? Where is my costume, and why am I putting on this old-fashioned night shirt?'
He pinched the light shirt as he stared at it in disgust, even though it was clean.
'Okay. Calm down, Noel. Think. Judging by the name and title... I'm definitely not in the real world. I must have probably ended up in Noel Hartwell's real body. Is it because I died while acting his scene? But how am I to survive in this nineteenth-century world?!!'
He screamed internally as he grabbed his hair.
"Nope. Nope nope nope..." His voice rose.
The maid gasped, thinking she had done something wrong.
"Is something the matter, sir!?"
'Shit! I forgot she was here. Great. Noel, control yourself. You're an Academy Award winner. Just act,'
He cleared his throat, straightening with false noble poise.
"I... I am... simply overwhelmed by my recent... slumber," he said, channelling every period drama he'd ever acted in.
"Yes, Young Master," she replied, relieved. "The Master has ordered extra guards after what happened. Lady Evelina was extremely distressed when you fainted yesterday..."
"I see. Wait..." Noel held up a trembling finger. "Lady... Evelina?"
"Yes, young master. Lady Evelina, your beloved fiancée."