I Transmigrated As The Person My BestFriend Loved

1. Nobody Dies a Virgin

Mark Masa

If you want something you never had, you have to do something you've never done before.

That was the last thought I remembered before everything went white, an ice-cold pain spreading from my chest. An ice pick, of all things, had pierced my heart. I collapsed to the ground, my body landing beside that of the person I hated most in the world: my cousin, War Wanarat.

Why did I hate him so much? Oh, only because he was the object of affection for the one person I cared about more than anything—my best friend, Yin Anan Wong. Yin was head over heels for War, but War, with his proud, cunning, playboy ways, didn't give him the time of day. He'd been rejecting Yin's affection since high school, claiming he was "as straight as the hair on Anan's head." War only had eyes for beautiful women, and that's exactly why I loathed him.

But when I saw War about to get beaten to death, I couldn't just stand there. Blood is thicker than water, after all. And if War died, Yin would be heartbroken, and I couldn't bear to see that.

Maybe, just maybe, if I saved War, Yin would see me differently—notice me for once. Maybe I'd finally have a chance at his love. Because, you see, I've been secretly in love with my best friend all this time.

But who would've thought I'd take that secret to my grave?

I could feel the cold metal in my chest and knew I was dying. There was chaos and blood all around, people screaming for help, but my blurry vision searched for Yin. I knew he wasn't there, though. I hadn't told him I was going after War.

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die. Mine? It was just one long montage of Yin Anan Wong. Meeting him when we were six years old, becoming inseparable, going to the same schools, the same clubs. And now, it was all coming to an end. My love for him, hidden for so long, had been nothing but a painful secret I was going to take to the other side.

I was dying, no doubt about it. And as my story came to its tragic conclusion, I could only hope that Yin would have his happy ending someday.

Mark Masa, signing off.

Or so I thought.

The next thing I knew, I was staring into Yin's furious eyes, which were hovering dangerously close to mine. I blinked. He was angry—no, he was livid. And his face was just inches above mine. Wait...was he on top of me?

"Anan? Ow!" I gasped in pain. Not from the stab wound, but from something else, a dull ache in my chest.

"Don't call me that, you idiot!" Yin growled, his hands roughly grabbing my face. "You have no right to call me that with this dirty mouth of yours!"

I could barely get a word out. He was squeezing my cheeks so hard that it was impossible to argue. But what was going on? Was I...alive?

Yin's angry tears splashed onto my face as he released his grip, standing back. "Because of you...he's dead! I hate you. I hate you the most!" he shouted, and I realized he wasn't talking about me. He thought I was someone else.

I froze. What was happening?

I forced myself to look down at my body, at the reflection in the mirror across the room. What I saw wasn't Mark Masa anymore—it was War Wanarat.

Somehow, I wasn't dead. But I also wasn't me.

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📌a/n: edited because I'm sick of my old writing 10/5/2024