1

Jake never believed in second chances.

Not in life, not in love, and certainly not in anything as ridiculous as reincarnation. Yet here he was — blinking up at a ceiling he didn’t recognize, his heart racing in his chest like it belonged to someone else.

The ceiling fan spun lazily above him. Blue LED light glowed beneath the crack of the bedroom door. Everything felt quiet. Too quiet.

Until he saw the poster.

"East Highland High — Fall Registration Begins"

Jake’s breath caught.

No.

No way.

This was fiction. A show. A story he had devoured episode by episode like a drug — and now it was real. Tangible. And he was inside it.

He sat up, heart pounding as he took in the body he now wore. The t-shirt he slept in was oversized, but it couldn't hide the changes. His waist was small, cinched tight in a way he’d only ever seen on Instagram influencers or edited photos. His skin was impossibly smooth, almost porcelain. His thighs curved, his arms delicate but toned, and when he glanced in the mirror beside the desk…

He gasped.

He was stunning.

Like, jaw-droppingly beautiful. Thick, layered dark-blond hair framed his face in soft waves, brushing his cheekbones. His lashes curled so long they kissed the tips of his brows. His lips — full and naturally pink. His frame… petite, but with that ridiculous hourglass shape that even Jules — now apparently his sister — had never been gifted with.

He looked like someone drawn straight out of a fantasy.

And that’s when it hit him.

This wasn’t a dream.

This was Euphoria.

And he was in it.

---

“Jake?” came a voice from behind the door. “Orientation in twenty. You good?”

It was Jules.

Jake paused, hand tightening around the bedsheet. This was real. That was really her voice.

“I’m good,” he called, trying to steady himself. “Be out in a sec.”

---

Later that afternoon, they arrived at the East Highland College gym. The heat was sharp, sun catching on the pavement as music pulsed from a nearby dorm window. Jake walked a step behind Jules, deliberately slow, eyes scanning.

He knew what today was. The start of everything. The day Nate Jacobs first locked eyes with Maddy.

Except… this time, Jake had other plans.

He wore a pair of compression shorts that left nothing to the imagination, paired with a slim cropped hoodie zipped halfway down, revealing his collarbones and the delicate slope of his chest. His hips moved with purpose — not exaggerated, not fake — but with an easy, practiced sway that turned heads.

And then he saw him.

Nate Jacobs.

Six-foot-three. Built like a goddamn linebacker. Jet-black curls slicked back, a thin sheen of sweat already glistening across his arms and jaw. His eyes — sharp, heavy-lidded — surveyed the room with that signature mix of arrogance and control. The black tank top clung to him like a second skin. He carried his water bottle like a weapon.

Jake’s breath hitched the moment their eyes met.

Because they did.

Nate saw him. Looked straight at him. Not past him. Not through him.

At him.

Jake’s lips parted slightly, the ghost of a smirk forming. He didn’t break the gaze — not for a second. And in that instant, everything else in the room fell away.

There was no Maddy. No Jules. No other students or gym rats or music.

Just them.

And Nate’s stare was not casual.

It was curious. Appraising. Sharp.

Jake knew that look. He had memorized it from every rewatch, every freeze-frame of Nate eyeing Maddy like she was a challenge he hadn’t decided how to break yet.

Except now, Nate was giving that same look to him.

Jake turned away — deliberately — and bent down to tie his sneaker, making sure his ass arched just enough. He felt the air change. The temperature drop.

And then, the footsteps.

Heavy. Steady. Getting closer.

“New here?” came a low, gravel-rich voice behind him.

Jake straightened slowly, hiding the smile in his eyes before turning to face him.

“Yeah,” he said softly, brushing a hand through his layered hair. “Just moved in with my sister.”

Nate’s gaze flicked over him — from his lips to his waist to the bare skin beneath his hoodie. His jaw clenched once.

“Your sister?” he asked.

Jake tilted his head. “Jules.”

Something flickered behind Nate’s eyes. Surprise, maybe. Or calculation.

Then he stepped closer — too close. The heat from his body brushed Jake’s skin. The scent of his cologne — wood, spice, something almost bitter — flooded Jake’s senses.

“I’m Nate.”

Jake smiled — not too wide. Just enough to tease.

“Jake.”

The corner of Nate’s mouth twitched. Almost a smirk. Almost.

And then — someone called Nate’s name.

Maddy.

Jake’s eyes darted past Nate’s shoulder. She was strutting into the gym, perfect hair, lips glossy. Nate turned slightly, and Jake saw it — that automatic reaction. That pull.

No.

Not this time.

Jake stepped forward, placing his hand — gently — on Nate’s chest. Right over his heart. It was bold. It was dangerous.

“I’ll see you around, Nate,” Jake whispered, his voice like warm honey.

And then he walked away.

He didn’t look back. He didn’t need to.

He knew Nate was still watching.

---

Back in their apartment, Jules flopped onto the couch, humming. “That place was exhausting. Everyone’s trying so hard.”

Jake smiled to himself in the mirror as he removed his hoodie, exposing the delicate strap of a tight black crop top underneath.

“I think I made a good impression,” he murmured.

Jules raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Just someone I met at the gym,” he added casually. “We talked a little.”

He didn’t mention Nate. Not yet.

This had to be perfect.

Jake walked to the window and looked out at the streetlights. Somewhere across campus, Nate Jacobs was probably pacing. Confused. Intrigued. Hungry for something he couldn’t name.

And Jake?

He was going to give it to him.

But only on his terms.

> This time, Nate wouldn’t belong to Maddy, or Cassie, or chaos.

He would belong to me. He's Jake's. Entirely.

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