Don’t Fall, Mr Billionaire. I Don’t Exist!

Pain. That is the first thing I feel. A dull, throbbing ache blooms along the right side of my head, spreading behind my eye until it becomes impossible to ignore. I suck in a sharp breath and jolt upright. “…Ow.” My hand immediately flies to my temple. The pain isn’t blinding, but it lingers with every heartbeat, making me wince. Where… Where am I? It takes several blinks before my blurry vision settles. White. The ceiling above me is painted a pristine white with recessed lights built into it. They aren’t the flickering fluorescent lights of a public hospital. These glow warmly, almost elegantly. I slowly look around. “…What?” It’s a hospital room. At least, I’m fairly certain it is. There’s a heart monitor quietly beeping beside my bed, an IV stand, and medical equipment that looks far newer than anything I’ve ever seen in person. But everything else… Everything else looks more like a luxury hotel suite. Sunlight streams through floor-to-ceiling windows draped with cream-colored curtains. A polished wooden floor reflects the morning light, making the room feel warm instead of sterile. A bouquet of fresh lilies sits in a crystal vase beside a basket filled with expensive-looking fruit. A leather sofa occupies one corner. A massive television hangs on the wall opposite my bed. Even the coffee table looks like it costs more than six months of my salary. “…This can’t be right.” I pull the blanket away. It’s impossibly soft. The hospital gown I’m wearing feels nicer than most of my actual clothes. Then reality crashes into me. Hospital. Luxury. Money! Money I absolutely do not have!!! “Oh no…” Panic seizes my chest. “No, no, no…” I throw my legs over the side of the bed. How much does a room like this even cost? Millions? Hundreds of thousands? I can’t even pay my rent on time. If someone expects me to pay for this… I’ll be working until I’m eighty. Maybe they already realized they had the wrong patient. Maybe if I leave quietly? “Miss Holt?” I freeze when the door opens. A tall man in a perfectly tailored black suit steps inside. An earpiece curled behind one ear, making him look less like hospital staff and more like security. He smiles politely. “You’re awake.” My stomach dropped. Security? Why would a hospital assign security to me? Unless… My eyes widen. “…Organs.” The man blinked. “I beg your pardon?” This isn’t a hospital. This is an organ trafficking operation. I’ve read enough crime articles online to know they existed. Step one: Kidnap unsuspecting people. Step two: Put them in a luxurious room so they wouldn’t suspect anything. Step three: Harvest kidneys. My kidneys. Absolutely not. I bolt past him before he can react. “Miss Holt!” He quickly realizes what is going on and hurries after me. “Please wait!” Nope! I yank the door open and sprint into the hallway barefoot. People turn to stare. Nurses. Doctors. Patients. Someone shouts something behind me. I won't stop. The polished floor is freezing beneath my feet as I rush toward the elevators. “Miss Holt!” “I’m not giving you my kidneys!” I yelled over my shoulder. “…Your what?” I mashed the elevator button repeatedly. But it is too slow, he’ll catch up soon. Stairs. Stairs are faster. Ignoring the protests echoing behind me, I dart through the emergency stairwell and practically fly down the steps. My lungs burn. The pounding in my head grows worse. Still, I refuse to stop until sunlight bursts across my face. The main entrance. Freedom! I can already see the road beyond the glass doors. Just a little farther… Then someone stepped inside. A young woman. Stunning. Large sunglasses rests atop silky black bobbed hair. An oversized white button-down shirt hangs loosely over denim shorts, while elegant heels click confidently against the marble floor. A designer handbag rests on one shoulder, and a coffee cup in one hand. I’m awestruck. She looks like she walked straight out of a fashion magazine. Her rose-colored eyes land on me. She stops. “…Camellia?” Her voice trembles. My steps falter. Does… Does she know me? The coffee slips from her fingers. It hits the floor with a splash neither of us acknowledge. “Camellia!” She runs toward me. “Oh my gosh! You’re awake!” Before I can react, she wraps her arms around me. Her hug is warm. Familiar even. Then my head explodes with memories. A girl laughing while covered in paint. Late-night movie marathons. Coffee stains on sketchbooks. An apartment filled with illustrations. Birthdays. Arguments. Tears. Laughter. And then… a name. “D… Dahlia?” I whisper. She pulls back so quickly I almost stumble. “Y-Yes!” Tears instantly filled her eyes. “It’s me!” She grabs my shoulders. “You remember me?” “I…” The memories continue pouring in. Violently. Like someone had kicked open a locked door inside my mind. “Dahlia…” “Oh thank goodness.” She laughed through her tears. “The doctors kept saying there was a chance your memory would be affected.” “I was so scared.” I admit for some reason. I feel safe in her presence. She looks me up and down before suddenly frowning. “Wait…” Her expression shifts. “Where’s the guard I assigned to you?” Guard? Oh! “You weren’t supposed to leave your room. You’re not well yet.” “I ran from…” I glanced toward the security guard finally catching up, “…him.” Suddenly everything tilts. The hallway stretches strangely as my legs give out beneath me. “Camellia!” The last thing I see is Dahlia lunging forward, terror written across her face. Just before darkness swallows me. - When I open my eyes again, I am back in bed. “…Welcome back.” Dahlia is sitting beside me. Her makeup is entirely smudged. Judging by the tissues piled nearby… She has been crying. A lot. “You scared me.”Dahlia snivels. “I’m sorry.” “You passed out.” Tears start brimming in her eyes. “I noticed.” She laughs weakly, rolling her eyes, “Don’t joke.” - Hours later… After promising her at least twelve times that I wasn’t planning another dramatic escape attempt… and assuring her that I felt much better… and also practically forcing her to go home and sleep… The room is finally quiet. I lean back against the pillows. “…Okay.” Time to organize my thoughts. Because none of this makes any sense. I close my eyes. One life surfaces first. My name is Camellia Holt. I’m twenty-five years old. An orphan. I became a millionaire after creating one of the world’s most successful productivity apps. I live in a luxurious penthouse overlooking Petal Hills in Orchid City. My best friend is Dahlia Griffin and… A car accident put me here. Then another life. My name is Camellia Holt. I’m twenty-five years old. An orphan. I work at a convenience store. Most months I barely earn enough to pay rent. My apartment ceiling leaks whenever it rains. I was also in a car accident. I stare at the ceiling. “…Which one is me?” Neither memory felt fake. Both felt equally real. I remember struggling to count coins before grocery shopping. I also remembered signing million-dollar business contracts. I remembered instant noodles. I remembered luxury restaurants. I remembered crying because I couldn’t afford electricity. I remembered buying an entire apartment building without checking the price. How is this possible? “…Am I dead?” No. This bed feels real. The sheets. The air. The lingering headache. Everything feels painfully real. I catch my reflection in the mirror, I’m still me. Still tall, with chocolate brown hair and blue eyes. I haven’t lost any weight either, in fact I look healthier. My hair has this shine to it and my warm skin reminds me of those influencers I used to envy online. “What is happening?” Then my eyes drift toward the television mounted on the wall. The volume is low. Although a news broadcast plays. Without thinking, I reach for the remote. “…Let’s see.” I turn the volume up. A drone camera swept over an enormous excavation site. Hundreds of workers move between towering stone ruins. Massive cranes stretch toward the sky. Ancient walls emerged from beneath the earth. The reporter smiles excitedly. “Once again, Warren Discoveries prepares to excavate another historical site dating back to the Geranium Age.” My heart skips. “Warren Discoveries’ newest project is expected to become the largest archaeological excavation in modern history.” “Experts believe the ruins may contain relics unlike anything previously discovered.” “Translated fragments recovered near the site entrance suggest an incredible treasure remains hidden beneath the ancient city.” Warren… Discoveries. “…No.” I whisper. “No…” I chuckle in disbelief. Slowly… Very slowly… I climb out of bed. Ignoring the ache in my head, I walk toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. The glass is opaque. Privacy mode. My hand hesitates over a small control panel mounted beside the frame. One touch and the glass becomes transparent. My breath catches in my throat. There it is. Far beyond the glittering skyline. Standing proudly above Orchid City’s modern buildings. A colossal stone hand. Ancient and weathered, though preserved. Emerging from the earth as though a giant had been buried beneath the world. Its enormous index finger pointed toward the heavens. At night, every light surrounding it illuminates the monument against the sky. I know that landmark. I have imagined it countless times. Read about it dozens of times. Smiled whenever fan art recreated it because it didn’t exist, not in my reality. Only in one place. “…This can’t be.” My voice barely escaped my lips. “I…” My knees weaken again. “I’ve…” The impossible truth settled over me like ice. I’d somehow found myself inside the world of a novel. Not just any novel. The bestselling billionaire romance I’d finished reading before my accident. ‘Love Me, Someone!’ And somehow… this character that I am… she doesn’t exist in the storyline.