Chapter 3

As he walked down the street, his mind reeled. Fired and cheated on, all in the span of a few hours. If this was a movie, he'd be demanding a rewrite. The universe had a twisted sense of humor.

He wandered aimlessly, his feet carrying him through the city with no real destination. The bustling streets felt surreal as if he were watching a movie about someone else's life. How could the world just keep going when he had come crashing down?

He didn't even know where he was walking. The sun beat down on him, but he barely noticed. His feet moved on autopilot, carrying him past bustling cafes and honking taxis.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't see the bus until it was too late. One moment, he was stepping off the curb; the next, he was airborne. It was almost comical, really. Fired, cheated on, and now hit by a bus. The universe really had it out for him today.

As he sailed through the air, time seemed to slow down. In that brief moment of clarity, Jackson had an epiphany. He'd forgotten to cancel his subscription to that stupid meditation app Veronica had insisted he try. What a waste of ten bucks a month.

Then everything went black.

When Jackson opened his eyes, he found himself in a hospital room that looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel. The sheets were softer than anything he'd ever slept on, and an honest-to-god chandelier was hanging from the ceiling.

"What the..." he croaked, his voice raspy.

A nurse appeared at his bedside, looking like she'd stepped out of a fashion magazine. "Oh good, you're awake. How are you feeling, Mr. Jackson?"

He blinked, trying to focus on the nurse's impossibly perfect face. He felt like he'd been hit by a... well, a bus.

"What happened to me?" he managed to croak out, his throat feeling like sandpaper.

The nurse's smile was bright enough to power a small city. "You were in an accident, Mr. Jackson. But don't worry, you're incredibly lucky. No injuries, and very much alive!"

His brain struggled to process this information. He glanced around the luxurious room, wondering if he'd somehow stumbled into a billionaire's private hospital. The thought of the impending hospital bill made his stomach churn.

"I... I don't understand," he mumbled. "How am I supposed to pay for this?"

The nurse's smile didn't falter. "Oh, don't you worry about that now. I'll call the doctor to check on you. Sit tight!"

As she sashayed out of the room, his mind raced. Where on earth was he? This place looked more like a five-star hotel than any hospital he'd ever seen.

His head swam with confusion as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The opulent hospital room felt like something out of a dream—or maybe a bizarre nightmare. He blinked hard, half-expecting the chandelier to disappear and be replaced by a flickering fluorescent light.

"Where am I?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "And how did I end up here?"

"You're in the hospital, darling," a female voice answered, seemingly out of nowhere.

Jackson's head whipped around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. He scanned the room, but there was no one to be seen. Had he imagined the voice?

"Who's there?" he called out, feeling ridiculous talking to an empty room. "And why can't I see you?"

The disembodied voice chuckled. "I'm the one who saved your life, sweetie. And I must say, I was shocked to discover your bank balance is a whopping thirteen dollars."

His jaw dropped. "How do you know that?" he sputtered, equal parts indignant and embarrassed. "And seriously, who are you? Why can't I see you?"

The mysterious voice chuckled again. "Oh, darling, I'm afraid you can't see me because I don't have a physical form. I'm a system created in your head to follow instructions and guide you in your life. Think of me as your life coach, but infinitely more fabulous."

He blinked rapidly, wondering if the bus had knocked a few screws loose in his head. "What system? What nonsense are you talking about? Did I hit my head harder than I thought?"

"Nonsense? I'm wounded," the voice replied, sounding anything but. "I'm as real as that chandelier above your head. Which, by the way, is a bit much for a hospital room, don't you think? But I digress. As for my name, well, that's up to you. You can name me yourself, or I can pick something if you're feeling uninspired."

He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. "This can't be happening. My mind must be playing tricks on me."

"Oh, honey, your mind is working just fine. Well, as fine as it ever has, which isn't saying much considering your life choices so far."

Before Jackson could retort, the door swung open, and the doctor strode in, followed by the impossibly glamorous nurse from earlier.

"Ah, Mr. Jackson, how are we feeling?" the doctor asked, his voice as smooth as butter.

He latched onto the doctor like a drowning man to a life raft. "Doctor, please help me! I'm hearing a female voice in my head, and she's talking absolute rubbish!"

The doctor and nurse exchanged a look that Jackson couldn't quite decipher. "Now, now, Mr. Jackson," the doctor said soothingly, "I'm sure it's just the stress of the accident. Nothing a little rest won't cure."

"But-" He started to protest.

"Shh," the nurse cooed, patting his hand. "The doctor's right. You just need some beauty sleep. And trust me, honey, you need it."

He gaped at her, not sure whether to be offended or agree. The voice in his head snickered. "She's not wrong, you know."

"Shut up," he hissed under his breath.

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry?"

"No, not you," Jackson backpedaled. "I was talking to... never mind."

The doctor eyed him suspiciously but seemed to decide not to pursue the matter. "Alright, Mr. Jackson. I think what you need now is some rest. We'll check on you again in a few hours."

With that, the doctor and the impossibly glamorous nurse left the room, leaving Jackson alone with his thoughts... and the voice in his head.