The music was unbearable.
Heavy bass shook the walls of the mansion hard enough to rattle the glasses lined across the kitchen island. Red and blue lights swept over crowds of drunk college students packed shoulder-to-shoulder through the sprawling Hollywood Hills house.
Gael Ronin opened his eyes slowly.
For a few seconds, he just stood there.
Then reality hit him.
Rain against shattered glass.
A highway at night.
The blinding scream of twisting tal.
And then—
California sunlight.
Startup interviews.
Tech blogs.
Investor etings.
Private schools.
Millions of dollars.
Gael inhaled sharply, gripping the marble countertop beside him.
What the hell—
Fragnts of knowledge flooded into place rapidly.
His na was Gael Ronin.
Eighteen years old.
Founder of Loop, a photo-sharing social app that exploded across California college campuses before being acquired by a major tech company less than a year earlier.
Net worth?
Roughly ninety-three million dollars after taxes and retained shares.
Which would have already been insane on its own.
But that wasn't the part breaking his brain.
The impossible part was the world itself.
Modern Family.
Gael stared blankly at the crowded room.
Not taphorically.
Not "similar to."
Literally.
He was standing inside the world of Modern Family.
The realization was so absurd he nearly laughed out loud.
Sowhere nearby, people were arguing over beer pong while sobody else shouted along to a Ke$ha song blasting through the speakers.
Gael rubbed a hand over his face slowly.
Okay.
Think.
Tiline.
2012, probably.
Everything aligned too perfectly.
"You good, man?"
Gael looked up as another guy approached, holding two drinks.
Blond. Red-faced. Drunk.
"You spaced out for like a full minute."
"Just thinking," Gael answered automatically.
"That sounds depressing."
"It usually is."
The guy laughed awkwardly before wandering back into the crowd.
Gael exhaled slowly.
Reincarnated as an orphan in this world with no power, wealth, or any sort of advantage shown in stories, born simply ordinary. Well, technically, he knew the previous short-lived life of asly 15 years, which kind of counts as a boon. With that knowledge, he created the app called Loop.
Then, months of interviews. dia attention. Investors are trying to control him. Adults twice his age pretend to respect him while circling his money.
This body still carried traces of emotional exhaustion beneath the surface.
Until his gaze drifted across the room—
And stopped and heard a familiar na.
Haley Dunphy.
She stood near the staircase talking to another girl, red plastic cup in hand.
Dark brown hair spilled loosely over her shoulders, slightly ssy from dancing. Tight jeans. Black top. Bright smile.
Exactly like he rembered.
Except real.
Not a sitcom character.
Not a screen.
A real eighteen-year-old girl laughing under flashing party lights.
Gael felt sothing strange tighten in his chest.
He knew her future.
The failed relationships.
The insecurity beneath the confidence.
The fear of never being taken seriously.
And suddenly that knowledge felt dangerous.
As if sensing his stare, Haley glanced toward him.
Their eyes t briefly.
She looked away.
Then looked back.
Gael almost smiled.
Still Haley.
Curious first. Careful second.
A few monts later, she made her way toward the kitchen counter.
Not directly toward him.
But close enough.
"You're the app guy, right?" she asked casually.
Gael leaned against the counter slightly.
"That sounds vaguely insulting."
"The Loop guy," she clarified. "See? Better."
"Marginally."
Haley smirked.
Up close, she was even prettier than he rembered. Confident posture hiding tiny signs of uncertainty underneath.
"You're younger than I thought," she said.
"You sound disappointed."
"I'm deciding."
"And?"
"Hm." She pretended to think. "Still undecided."
Gael chuckled softly.
That seed to surprise her slightly.
Most rich guys she t either:
tried too hard,
acted arrogantly,
or desperately wanted attention.
Gael looked strangely detached from all of it.
"You go to USC?" she asked.
"Technically."
"That's a suspicious answer."
"I take surveys on classes occasionally."
"Oh, my God." She pointed at him dramatically. "You're one of those."
"One of what?"
"Startup people."
"That sounds racist."
Haley laughed.
The sound was warm and effortless enough that Gael montarily forgot the insanity of the situation.
This was really happening.
He was really standing here talking to Haley Dunphy.
"You know," she said, "my parents would probably love you."
"That sounds threatening."
"My dad would think you're cool because you're good with tech."
"And my mom would interrogate you like the FBI."
"That one sounds terrifying."
Haley grinned again before taking a sip from her drink.
Around them, the party grew louder. Sobody crashed into a table nearby, followed by drunken cheering.
Haley rolled her eyes.
"I need air."
Gael tilted his head toward the patio doors.
"After you."
Cool night air replaced the suffocating heat as they stepped outside onto a wide balcony overlooking Los Angeles.
The city lights stretched endlessly below the hills.
For a few monts, neither spoke.
Inside, the music beca muffled background noise.
Haley leaned against the railing.
"You know," she said, "you're different from what people online tell."
"That's bad?"
"No, just…" She glanced sideways at him. "Less douchey."
"I should put that on business cards."
She laughed softly.
God.
Hearing that laugh in person felt surreal.
Gael rested his arms against the railing beside her.
"You ever get tired of it?" he asked.
"Of what?"
"People assuming they know who you are."
The question caught her off guard.
Haley looked at him more carefully now.
There was no flirtatious grin on his face anymore.
Just calm curiosity.
"All the ti," she admitted after a mont.
Gael nodded slightly.
He understood too well.
The weird thing was that he actually did know parts of who she was.
Probably more than anyone standing inside that mansion.
That thought should have made this easier.
Instead, it made him feel guilty.
"You okay?" Haley asked suddenly.
Gael blinked.
"Why?"
"You got that weird, distant look again."
He smiled faintly.
"Long day."
"You sold an app for more than 100 million. I think all your days are weird."
"Fair point."
A breeze moved through her hair.
Haley tucked a strand behind her ear while watching him quietly now.
The energy between them had shifted sowhere along the conversation.
Less playful.
More focused.
More aware.
"You know what your problem is?" she asked. "You look at people too carefully."
Gael turned toward her fully.
"And what does that an?"
"It ans…" Haley hesitated briefly. "It feels like you're trying to figure people out."
Maybe because he already knew parts of them.
"That bothers you?" he asked quietly.
She held his gaze for a second too long.
"No."
The city lights reflected softly in her eyes.
Gael beca suddenly aware of how close they were standing now.
Not accidental.
Not entirely intentional either.
Just natural.
Haley's voice lowered slightly.
"So what happens now, app guy?"
Gael smiled faintly.
"First," he said, "you stop calling app guy."
"And then?"
"Then maybe you tell your na again."
A small grin appeared on her lips.
"Haley."
"Gael."
She repeated it softly.
"Gael."
The way she said his na sent an unexpected warmth through his chest.
For a brief mont, neither moved.
Then Haley stepped closer first.
Confident.
Curious.
Waiting.
Gael lifted a hand slowly, brushing a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear.
Her breath caught slightly.
And then he kissed her.
Gentle at first.
Testing.
Haley's fingers curled lightly against the front of his jacket as she kissed him back without hesitation.
Warm.
Soft.
Real.
When they finally separated, Haley looked slightly breathless.
"Well," she murmured quietly, "that was definitely better than talking to frat guys."
Gael laughed softly.
And sowhere deep in his mind, one clear realization settled in completely.
The story had already changed.
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