Axel Finnegan.
The name alone sounded too delicate to Z's ears, but it was now his name, whether he liked it or not.
Axel had been born into privilege, the only child of a wealthy family. His parents doted on him, and for a brief moment, his life was perfect. But that perfection was short-lived. His mother, having endured life-threatening complications during Axel's birth, was told she could never conceive again. The news devastated her. She had always dreamed of having a daughter to pamper and dress up, a dream that was now impossible.
Despite warnings from Axel's grandmother, who insisted adopting a child could disrupt the harmony of their home, Axel's mother convinced her husband to adopt a little girl. At seven, Axel was introduced to his new sister, Dessie, a five-year- old with wide eyes and an unsettling silence.
From the moment she stepped into their lives, everything changed.
Dessie was cunning, manipulative far beyond her years. She knew she was not their blood and decided early on that the only way to secure her place was to eliminate Axel from their hearts. Axel, soft-spoken, kind, and painfully fragile, was an easy target. Dessie wove lies, crafted scenarios to frame him, and slowly poisoned the minds of their parents against him. Their love cooled into disappointment. Where once there was praise and affection, now there were lectures, cold stares, and punishment.
Only his grandmother stood by him, her unwavering belief in him the only thing that kept Axel from shattering completely.
At eighteen, desperate to escape his toxic home, Axel auditioned for Syren, a popular boy band looking to replace a deceased member. Music had always been Axel's safe haven, especially rock music. His skill with instruments, especially the guitar, set him apart despite his timid nature. He passed the audition and was welcomed—reluctantly—into the group.
Public reaction was swift and divided. Some fans said he didn't fit the group's image. Syren was known for its confident, charismatic, and manly members. Axel, with his delicate beauty and shy demeanor, looked out of place. But others saw his uniqueness as a breath of fresh air.
Among the group, the leader Jayvaughn Draxler who also happens to be a ceo of the most powerful company in the city. Draxler company could be placed in the top five most powerful company in the country.
Jayvaughn remained a distant figure. Handsome, composed, and cold, Jayvaughn seemed to barely tolerate Axel. It wasn't personal—Jayvaughn simply didn't appreciate anyone replacing their fallen member and really detest Axel fragile nature.
And Axel, sensing that coldness, kept his distance. Still, Jayvaughn never mistreated him. In fact, at times, he even helped Axel, albeit without warmth.
Over time, Axel's admiration turned to affection. He fell quietly, painfully, and deeply for Jayvaughn, though he never dared act on it. For two long years, he hid those feelings.
But just as Axel began to find some semblance of peace in his new life, Dessie returned to destroy it.
She arrived at their company to audition as a singer. Her real intention, however, was Jayvaughn. She'd fallen for him and saw Axel's proximity as a threat. Using her usual tactics, she slandered Axel, twisted truths, and used his name to manipulate situations. The final straw came when Axel confronted her at the company.
Their argument grew heated. Dessie, ever calculating, saw her chance. She pushed Axel down a flight of stairs. That was the end of Axel Finnegan's story.
Z exhaled slowly as the weight of the memories settled fully in his mind. It was absurd. Ridiculous, even. Axel had died because of an annoying sister and unrequited love for a man who barely saw him.
Z's lip curled in a smirk.
"Well, since I'm now in this body, there's no way I'm giving it up. From this day forth, Z is dead. I am Axel now."
A flash of rage crossed his expression as he clenched his jaw. His thoughts turned venomous.
"K... you traitorous bastard. I died because of you. You'll pay. I swear, you'll receive what you deserve. Watch your back. I'm coming for you."
But then, another thought hit him like a brick.
"Jayvaughn Draxler... that name sounds familiar."
He gasped and clamped his hand over his mouth.
"Oh, shit. It can't be."
Everyone in the underworld knew of three names—people you did not mess with. Jayvaughn Draxler was one of them. A legend. Rumors painted him as a super soldier, trained to kill with efficiency and precision. He had served his country, earned medals, and then suddenly resigned at eighteen without explanation. Then, just like that, he became an idol.
Z—no, Axel—stared into space.
"What the hell is a man like him doing in a boy band?"
He groaned and ran a hand through his hair.
"I'm in a band with that devil incarnate. Great. Just great."
He tried to psych himself up.
"It's okay. I can do this. I just have to keep my distance. Stay out of his radar. He won't find out anything about me."
But the moment that thought crossed his mind, he felt a sharp, gut-wrenching pull, like his soul was being yanked out of his body.
He gasped.
"You motherfucker!" he yelled at the ceiling. "Your soul isn't even here anymore, and yet your love for that man is strong enough to reject me just for thinking of ignoring him? Damn it! This is going to be impossible. I'm so going to die."
Still, he wasn't one to back down.
"Why the hell should I be afraid? I'm Z—the best assassin in the game. I've faced death more times than I can count. I have nothing to fear."
He raised his fist in the air in defiance.
The door to his hospital room creaked open.
Three men entered—tall, confident, exuding charisma and very handsome and the last being the most handsome. Hiis bandmates.
They stopped when they saw him, fist still raised dramatically.
One of them raised an eyebrow.
Axel quickly lowered his hand and cleared his throat.
"Uh... cardio," he said with a straight face. "Doctor said I should try to move my arms." Then he tried to sit up and he was quiet surprised when he was able to do so but he still have to rest his back on a pillow.
There was a pause.
Then, the one who had raised his brow laughed lightly and nodded.
"Whatever helps, princess."
Axel scowled.
Princess?
He was going to hate this nickname, he just knew it.
___________________________________
Jayvaughn raised an eyebrow, the subtle gesture laced with curiosity as he observed Axel from the foot of the hospital bed. Something was off.
The Axel he remembered was always awkward around him—shy, fidgety, constantly looking anywhere but his face. But now, Axel was sitting with confidence, looking him directly in the eyes as if the years of nervous energy and hesitant glances had evaporated.
It was unnerving.
Jayvaughn had long suspected Axel's feelings for him. It wasn't exactly hard to tell, especially with Jayvaughn's military-honed perception. He'd pieced it together early on, from the lingering looks, the awkward silences, the way Axel always seemed to clam up whenever they were alone.
But even when he figured it out, he hadn't cared. Axel's feelings were his own, and Jayvaughn had decided to treat him no differently from any other member of the group.
That all changed when his sister got involved.
Dessie became a thorn in everyone's side—loud, dramatic, and perpetually meddling. When she accused Axel of something unspeakable, Jayvaughn hadn't believed her. Deep down, he knew Axel wasn't capable of whatever nonsense she was spouting. But Axel was Dessie's brother. And in Jayvaughn's mind, that connection made them cut from the same cloth. Guilt by association. So he distanced himself, not necessarily out of distrust, but out of irritation and fatigue.
Then came the fight.
He still couldn't believe they had been foolish enough to fight by the stairs. Dessie had always been a firecracker, and Axel must've reached his limit. One reckless shove, and Axel ended up in a coma for a year. A whole damn year.
For twelve months, the group barely performed. They kept everything on pause, unable to fill the void Axel had left. Jayvaughn told himself it didn't matter. Told himself it was Axel's fault for throwing hands over something so stupid. But still, when the news came that Axel had woken up, he hadn't planned to visit.
It was James and Noah who wore him down. They insisted that his absence would become media fodder. That fans would notice. That the image of their unity would crack. Jayvaughn didn't care about public opinion. He had enough wealth and power to spin any story. But eventually, he gave in. For the group, if nothing else.
And now, here he was.
What shocked him even more than the fact that Axel was awake, was the way Axel talked. There was a steady confidence in his tone, in the way he addressed James and Noah.
No hesitations, no stammering, no avoiding their gaze. It was as if someone else was pretending as axel but when he looked at Axel's he cancelled that thought. Jayvaughn furrowed his brow slightly, suspicion blooming.
Was this what happened when someone hovered on the edge of death? A complete personality reboot?
Unable to keep it in, he leaned forward slightly and asked, his voice low and steady, "You seem to have changed."
Axel froze for a fraction of a second, his eyes widening. Internally, he was screaming. "Oh shit. Oh shit. How could I forget he's right there?!"
But none of it showed on his face.
He forced a calm, casual shrug. "Yeah, anyone who almost dies would at least have a change in personality."
Jayvaughn watched him closely, silently noting how Axel maintained eye contact. That alone was almost enough to convince him something deeper was going on. But he didn't press. He simply muttered, "Interesting," under his breath.
Axel barely caught it.
Jayvaughn shifted gears. "When do you think you'll get discharged?"
Axel gave another shrug. "Haven't the faintest clue," he admitted, scratching his head. "Wasn't really paying attention when the doctor was talking. Something about cardiac rehab? I think I've got a couple months of physical therapy before I'm stage-ready again."
Jayvaughn's jaw tensed. His lips pressed into a hard, thin line. The scolding was at the tip of his tongue—accusing Axel of delaying their comeback, of selfishly picking a fight that landed him in a coma—but he stopped himself. Now wasn't the time.
After all, the guy had just come back from the brink of death.
The conversation drifted to safer topics—updates about the fandom, the latest sponsor shoots and other related topics. Eventually, Jayvaughn, Noah, and James said their goodbyes. Jayvaughn gave Axel one last glance before walking out the door without another word.
The moment the door clicked shut, Axel exhaled in relief, slumping back against his pillows.
"This is going to be so hard," he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "We only just met, and he already knows something's off."
He stared up at the ceiling in quiet frustration, a grimace pulling at his lips.
"And the worst part?" he whispered. "This body—this goddamn body—goes haywire just being near him. Ignoring Jayvaughn feels like pulling my own soul out."
He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.
"Can I die again, please?" he groaned, only half-joking.
It wasn't just attraction or affection—he could feel it in his bones. The original Axel had been hopelessly in love with Jayvaughn. That feelings ran deep, deeper than he could have imagined. He'd taken over this body, yes—but the remnants of the previous soul still echoed inside him. Every heartbeat near Jayvaughn screamed of longing and regret.
If he was going to survive this, he needed a plan. Fast.
He opened his eyes again, staring at the bland white ceiling as if it held the answers. A thought occurred to him then—one that made the gears in his head begin to turn.
Maybe the key to truly integrating with this body... was closure.
He could sense it clearly. Aside from the overwhelming feelings for Jayvaughn, there was something else burning inside this body. Rage. Bitterness. A smoldering hatred toward one person in particular: Dessie.
Axel's expression darkened.
"That sister of his," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "Whatever the real Axel went through because of her... it runs deep."
If he wanted this body to accept his soul fully—to function without this constant chaos—he needed to fix that. Reconcile with Axel's family, cut dessie out, and finally, put her in her place. Maybe then, he'd have a chance of coexisting with the remnants left behind. But all of that would have to wait until he got out of the hospital.
He clenched his fists, forcing himself upright despite the dull ache in his limbs.
This was only day one. One day awake after a year-long coma, and already he felt like committing murder.