Sa ilalim ng nakakasilaw na spotlight ng Araneta Coliseum, may isang pangalan lang ang sinisigaw ng libo-libong tao: KENJI.
Sa gitna ng stage, pawis na pawis pero mukhang anghel pa rin si Kenji. He’s 21, at sa edad na ’yon, hawak na niya ang buong mundo. He’s the "Global It Boy," the face of every luxury brand, and the voice behind every chart-topping hit. Every time he winks, literal na nagkakagulo ang mga fans. He has the perfect jawline, the messy raven hair, and that mysterious gaze na parang binabasa ang kaluluwa mo.
"Mahal ko kayo!" sigaw niya sa mic. The crowd erupted in a deafening roar. It was the kind of noise that didn't just hit your ears; it vibrated in your chest, rhythmic and primal.
"KENJI! WE LOVE YOU! MAHAL KA NAMIN, KENJI!"
Pero sa backstage, habang tinatanggal ang in-ear monitors niya, unti-unting nawawala ang ngiti ni Kenji. The high was fading, and the reality was sinking in. He went straight to his dressing room, where his best friends—the "Boys’ Club"—were already waiting for him, lounging on the velvet couches.
"Ayan na ang Global Sensation!" Jax cheered, handing Kenji a glass of sparkling water. "Grabe ka, Kenj! Sold out na naman, iba talaga ang kamandag ng isang Kenji Alcaraz," pang-aasar ni Jace, his childhood best friend and fellow model.
"Bro, kahit siguro mag-basa ka lang ng dictionary sa stage, titili pa rin sila," dagdag naman ni Jax, ang resident joker ng grupo. "Musta ang concert, 'tol? Mukhang pagod na pagod ka ah."
Kenji forced a laugh, tossing his leather jacket on the table. "Pagod, Jax. Sobrang pagod. Pero worth it naman, ’di ba? This is what I wanted."
"What you wanted? Bro, you’re living the dream!" Jace said, handing him a cold bottle of water.
"Kayo? Kumusta ang normal na buhay? I missed this. 'Yung walang cameras, walang script." Kenji asked his friends.
"Normal pa rin. Review-review lang," Jax shrugged. "Unlike you, kami lang ang nakakakita sa 'yo na ganito ka-haggard. Sa TV, mukha kang diyos."
"Actually," Paolo intervened, pointing his camera at Kenji. "Kahit haggard, pang-Vogue pa rin ang angle. You have that 'spark,' Kenji. Parang hindi ka tumatanda, parang lalong nagiging... sharp ang features mo. What's the secret?"
Kenji froze for a microsecond, his glass pausing halfway to his lips. He forced a laugh. "Skincare lang 'yan, Pao. And maybe some good genes."
And a deal with a devil, he added silently.
"By the way, may after-party sa Revel later. VIP table is set. Are you coming?"
Kenji paused. For a second, he wanted to say yes. He wanted to get wasted with his friends, to feel like a normal 21-year-old for once. But then, he felt a familiar vibration in his pocket. Not a phone notification—it was a physical chill that crawled up his spine.
"Maybe next time, guys," Kenji said, his voice dropping an octave. "Meron akong... private meeting."
"Meeting at 11 PM? Si Manager na naman ba 'yan?" tanong ni Jax, frowning. "Masyado ka na nilang ginagawang kabayo, Kenj. You need to breathe."
"It’s not my manager," Kenji muttered, eyes fixed on the floor. "I'll see you guys tomorrow, okay? I’ll make it up to you."
The guys looked at each other, confused. Ever since Kenji blew up three years ago, he’d have these moments—moments where he’d just shut down and disappear. They called it "Showbiz Mystery," but for Kenji, it was a debt he had to pay.
Inside the black tinted SUV, Kenji leaned his head against the cool leather seat, closing his eyes. He was only twenty-one, but sometimes he felt like he had lived three lifetimes. He could hear the thumping of fans hitting the car's body as they crawled through the exit of the arena.
"Grabe, Kenj. Iba talaga ang hatak mo," his road manager, Shaun, said while scrolling through Twitter. "Trending ka worldwide. #KenjiManilaDominance is at 1.2 million tweets and counting. You’re literally the 'It Boy' of the generation."
Kenji offered a small, practiced smile. "Para sa fans naman 'to, Shaun. They give me everything, so I give them everything."
But as he looked at his reflection in the window, his eyes felt heavy. Behind the designer streetwear and the flawless skin was a secret that felt like a ticking time bomb.
By 2:00 AM, Kenji was back in his penthouse. The silence was a stark contrast to the roar of the stadium. He walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city lights.
The voice came from the shadows of the dining area. Kenji didn't jump; he was expecting it. He turned to see a man sitting in the dark, sipping a glass of expensive whiskey.
Marco was thirty-two, built with the rugged sophistication of someone who knew exactly how the world worked. He wasn't a celebrity, but he was the architect behind Kenji's meteoric rise. Three years ago, when Kenji was a struggling eighteen-year-old trainee about to be cut from his agency, Marco had appeared with an "offer."
"You did well tonight, Kenji," Marco said, stepping into the light. His presence was suffocating. "The world is at your feet. Just like I promised."
"Salamat, Marco," Kenji said, his voice dropping an octave. "I couldn't have done it without your connections."
"Connections? It’s more than that, kid. It’s the vibe. Yung aura." Marco walked closer, circling Kenji like a predator. "Remember our little contract? Three years of pure, unadulterated fame. You’ve had your fun. You’ve tasted the glory."
Kenji felt a chill. "I remember. Sabi mo, you'll help me reach the top. In exchange, you get to... 'borrow' my life whenever you want."
Marco smirked, placing a hand on Kenji’s shoulder. His grip was firm, almost painful. "Hindi lang 'borrow,' Kenji. Swapping with you is like a vacation for me. Being twenty-one again, being loved by millions... it’s addictive. Tapos ikaw? You get to see how I live. The power behind the scenes."m
"Are you... are you doing it tonight?" Kenji’s heart began to race.
Marco checked his watch. "Not tonight. Soon. I want you to feel the peak of your success first. I want the fruit to be at its ripest before I take a bite."
Marco leaned in, his whisper cold against Kenji’s ear. "Enjoy your body while it's still 'yours,' Kenji. Because when I pull the string, you’re just a passenger in my old, tired bones."
After Marco left, Kenji stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He touched his face—the jawline that fans obsessed over, the eyes that could sell out any product.
He remembered the desperation he felt at eighteen. He wanted the world to know his name. He wanted to escape the poverty of his youth. Marco had given him that. But now, every time he looked in the mirror, he wondered if he was looking at himself or just a vessel waiting to be filled by someone else.
He took out his phone and saw a message from Jax in their group chat:
Jax: Bro, wag mo masyadong galingan. Baka makalimutan mo kaming mga maliliit na tao! See you sa Saturday, basketball tayo.
Kenji started typing a reply, but his fingers trembled. Saturday. What if by Saturday, he wasn't Kenji anymore? What if the person playing basketball with his best friends was a thirty-two-year-old man wearing his skin like a costume?
"What have I done?" he whispered to the empty, luxurious room.
The "It Boy" of the world had everything—except the guarantee that he would wake up as himself tomorrow. For now, the puppet was still in control of his limbs, but the puppeteer was already warming up his hands.
Lumipas ang ilang araw matapos ang concert, pero ang pagod sa sistema ni Kenji ay tila hindi nababawasan. Imbes na gumaan ang pakiramdam niya, lalong bumigat ang bawat hakbang niya. Everywhere he went, may mga mata—mga camera, mga fans na nag-aabang, at ang anino ni Marco na tila laging nakabuntot sa kaniya kahit wala ito sa paligid.
Sabado ng umaga. Maaga pa lang ay nasa basketball court na ang "Boys’ Club." Ito ang weekly ritual nila—ang tanging oras na pakiramdam ni Kenji ay tao siya, hindi isang brand.
"Hoy, Kenj! Focus naman!" sigaw ni Jax sabay pasa ng bola.
Muntik nang matamaan si Kenji sa mukha kung hindi niya agad naitaas ang mga kamay niya. He fumbled the ball, looking dazed. "Sorry, sorry. Medyo kulang lang sa tulog."
Lumapit si Jace at inakbayan siya, pinupunasan ang pawis gamit ang jersey. "Bro, kung ganiyan ang itsura ng 'kulang sa tulog,' sana lahat tayo ganiyan. Pero seryoso, you look pale. Sigurado ka bang okay ka lang?"
"Yeah, okay lang ako. Masyado lang maraming iniisip para sa shoot mamaya," pagsisinungaling ni Kenji.
"’Yung jewelry brand ba ’yan? ’Yung Aurelius?" tanong ni Pao habang nag-su-shoot ng three-pointer. "Balita ko, big-time daw ang creative director n’un. Strict daw."
Kenji nodded. "Si Marco ang nag-ayos n’un. He wants everything to be perfect."
"Masyadong hands-on ’yang si Marco, ’no?" puna ni Jax habang nagdidribol. "I mean, he’s just your consultant, right? Pero parang siya na ang nagpapatakbo ng buhay mo. Minsan nga, pakiramdam ko mas kilala niya ang schedule mo kaysa sa road manager mo."
Napalunok si Kenji. Kung alam niyo lang, isip-isip niya. Hindi lang schedule ang hawak ni Marco; pati ang bawat hininga niya, parang may nakatagong resibo.
"Business lang ’yun, guys. You know how it is," matipid na sagot ni Kenji.
Nagpatuloy ang laro, pero hindi makasabay si Kenji. He felt sluggish. Tuwing titingin siya sa paligid, pakiramdam niya ay may nanonood sa kaniya mula sa mga sasakyang naka-park sa labas ng court. Ang paranoia ay unti-unting kumakain sa kaniya.
Pagdating ng hapon, sinundo si Kenji ng isang sleek, black sedan. Hindi ito ang usual na van ng agency niya. Alam niya na kung kanino ito.
Dinala siya sa isang lumang warehouse na ginawang high-end studio sa Makati. The vibe was industrial but expensive. Pagpasok niya, tumahimik ang lahat. Staff members scurried around, prepping the lights and the expensive diamond pieces that Kenji was supposed to wear.
At sa gitna ng lahat, nakatayo si Marco. He was wearing a tailored suit, looking every bit the power player.
"You're here," Marco said, checking his silver Rolex. "Ready to become a masterpiece?"
"Let's just get this over with," Kenji replied, heading straight to the makeup chair.
Habang nilalagyan siya ng foundation at inaayos ang buhok niya, nakatingin lang si Marco sa kaniya sa pamamagitan ng salamin. The gaze was heavy—it wasn't the gaze of a mentor, but of an owner inspecting his property.
"Alam mo, Kenji," panimula ni Marco, leaning against the wall. "Ang ganda ng structure ng mukha mo. It’s a waste that you don’t appreciate it as much as I do. You look so tired of being you."
"Sino namang hindi mapapagod?" bulong ni Kenji. "I don't have a life anymore, Marco. Lahat ng ginagawa ko, kailangan dumaan sa 'yo."
Marco chuckled, a low, dry sound. "That was the deal, 'di ba? You wanted to be the 'It Boy.' You wanted the money to fix your family’s life. You wanted the fame. I gave you all of that. Ang hiningi ko lang naman ay... ang katawan mo."
Lumapit si Marco at pinalayas ang makeup artist sa pamamagitan ng isang simpleng kumpas ng kamay. He leaned in close to Kenji’s ear.
"The jewelry shoot today... it’s going to be iconic. But after this, we’re going to have dinner. Sa penthouse ko. Just the two of us."
"Bakit?" kabit-kabit ang kaba sa dibdib ni Kenji.
"Dahil bukas, may big event ang Boys’ Club, 'di ba? Jace’s birthday bash at the beach club. I heard it’s going to be a wild night." Marco smirked, his eyes glinting. "I want to be there. But not as the 'old guy' Marco. I want to be the life of the party. I want to be you."
Tumindig ang balahibo ni Kenji. "Wait, Marco... hindi pa ako handa. My friends, baka mahalata nila—"
"Hindi nila mahahalata. I’ve been watching you for three years, Kenji. I know how you move, how you talk, even how you laugh. I know your secrets better than you know mine."
Hinawakan ni Marco ang panga ni Kenji, forcing him to look him in the eye. "Tonight, we swap. Consider this your first real lesson in being a puppet. You get to stay in my body—rest, drink my whiskey, watch the city. While I? I’m going to enjoy being 21 again. I’m going to enjoy your friends, your fame... and maybe, just maybe, I’ll find someone to break your heart for you."
Kenji couldn't speak. He felt a wave of nausea. Ang ideya na ang ibang tao—isang 32-year-old man—ay papasok sa kaniyang buhay at makikihalubilo sa mga kaibigan niya ay parang isang masamang panaginip.
"Smile, Kenji," utos ni Marco habang hinihila siya patayo para sa shoot. "The camera is waiting. Make sure the face I’m about to wear stays beautiful."
The shoot lasted for six hours. Every flash of the camera felt like a countdown. Kenji posed, he smoldered, he gave the "It Boy" look that the world loved. But inside, he was screaming.
Nang matapos ang lahat, dinala siya ni Marco pabalik sa penthouse. The atmosphere was thick with tension. Sa gitna ng sala, may dalawang upuan na nakaharap sa isa’t isa. Walang kahit anong ritwal, walang magic circles—just a silent, psychic tether that Marco seemed to control.
"Maupo ka," sabi ni Marco.
Kenji sat down, his hands shaking. Marco sat across from him, looking calm and collected.
"Pikit ka, Kenji. Isipin mo ang bigat ng katawan mo. Isipin mo ang lahat ng pagod mo... at ibigay mo sa akin. I'll take the burden. I'll take the spotlight."
Kenji closed his eyes. At first, there was only darkness. Then, a sharp, searing pain shot through his head. It felt like his soul was being pulled through a straw. He felt his skin grow cold, then suddenly, incredibly heavy. He tried to gasp for air, but his lungs felt... different. Bigger, but less elastic.
Ang pakiramdam ay parang unti-unting nilalamon ng lupa ang kaniyang kamalayan. The darkness wasn't just empty; it was thick, parang lulubog ka sa putikan na hindi mo alam kung saan ang itaas o ibaba. He felt a violent tug sa gitna ng dibdib niya, a spiritual anchor being ripped out of its socket. Every nerve ending in his 21-year-old body screamed in protest. Parang hinihiwalay ang bawat hibla ng kaniyang muscle mula sa kaniyang buto.
Then, the static came. A loud, buzzing sound sa loob ng kaniyang tenga na unti-unting naging isang high-pitched ringing. Kenji tried to scream, pero walang tunog na lumalabas. It was as if his voice was being overwritten.
Sa kabilang banda, naramdaman niya ang isang kakaibang presensya na pilit sumisiksik sa kaniyang dating kinalalagyan. It was cold, calculated, and ancient. This was Marco’s essence, flowing into his young, vibrant veins like liquid lead. Naramdaman ni Kenji ang kaniyang sarili na lumulutang—no, hindi lumulutang, kundi nalalaglag—sa isang mas malaki, mas matigas, at mas pagod na sisidlan.
The sensation was nauseating. He felt his height shift. Ang dating magaan at mabilis niyang reflexes ay napalitan ng isang mabagal at siksik na bigat. His heartbeat slowed down, but each thump was more deliberate, more grounded. Ang bango ng kaniyang paboritong pabango ay naglaho, napalitan ng amoy ng mamahaling tabako at bitter whiskey na tila nakadikit na sa balat ng katawang ito.
"Hinga, Kenji... o Marco? Sino na nga ba tayo?" Isang boses ang narinig niya. Pero hindi ito galing sa labas. It was a dual resonance, ringing inside the hollow space between two souls.
Sa huling sandali ng transisyon, naramdaman ni Kenji ang isang matalim na kuryente mula sa kaniyang batok hanggang sa dulo ng kaniyang mga daliri sa paa. It was the final lock, the clicking of the gears. The youthful energy that defined "Kenji" was officially severed, transferred to the man sitting across from him.
Dahan-dahan, dumanas siya ng matinding pagkahilo. The air felt colder now. The silk shirt he was wearing felt different—mas malapad ang balikat, mas mahigpit sa dibdib.
"Open your eyes," the voice commanded.
Kenji opened his eyes. But he wasn't looking at Marco anymore. He was looking at... himself.
Across from him sat Kenji—the 21-year-old superstar, the messy hair, the perfect skin. But the eyes... the eyes were wrong. They were the eyes of a man who had seen too much. They were Marco’s eyes.
The 21-year-old superstar was looking down at him with a smirk that Kenji never used. It was a predatory, confident, and ancient look. Nakita ni Kenji ang sarili niyang mukha—ang perpektong panga, ang mapupungay na mata na kinababaliwan ng lahat—pero ang ekspresyong nandoon ay puno ng malisya at kapangyarihan.
"Perfect," ang boses na lumabas sa bibig ng 'Kenji' sa harap niya ay ang kaniyang sariling boses, pero ang tono ay kay Marco. "Ang gaan. Ang bango. It’s like breathing pure oxygen for the first time in a decade."
Kenji tried to stand up, but his new body felt like lead. Tumingin siya sa kaniyang mga kamay. His fingers were longer, the knuckles more pronounced, and there was a faint smell of expensive tobacco and whiskey lingering on his skin. He touched his face—the stubble was rough against his palm, and the skin around his eyes felt tighter but more lined.
"M-Marco?" Kenji stammered. Ang lumabas na boses ay malalim, baritono, at may gasgas ng isang taong dekada nang naninigarilyo. It was Marco’s voice.
"Shh, Kenji. Don't ruin the moment," Marco said, using Kenji’s youthful body to stretch lazily, like a cat reclaiming its territory. Marco-as-Kenji walked towards the full-length mirror and admired himself, touching the smooth skin of his neck and running a hand through the thick, messy hair.
The 'Kenji' standing behind him laughed, putting a hand on his shoulder. It was the same gesture from earlier, but now it was the 21-year-old body doing it to the 32-year-old one.
"Look at us," Marco-as-Kenji whispered, leaning closer to the glass. "Ako na ang 'Showbiz Baby' ngayon. And you? You get to be the man who built him. Fair trade, isn't it?"
Marco-in-Kenji's-body said, winking at the mirror. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a party to prepare for. Maraming nag-aabang sa 'It Boy', 'di ba? Let's see if I can make them love 'us' even more."
Kenji looked at his own young face in the mirror—the face that was currently being 'worn' by a stranger. "My friends... Jax, Jace... they'll know. Hindi ka nila kilala."
"Oh, they know Kenji," Marco laughed, his eyes glinting with mischief as he practiced Kenji’s signature wink in the mirror. "At bukas, ibibigay ko sa kanila ang version ni Kenji na hindi nila makakalimutan. Relax, baby. It’s showbiz. Everyone is playing a role. Ngayon, ikaw naman ang audience."
Iniwan ni Marco ang penthouse, suot ang paboritong jacket ni Kenji, habang naiwang nakatulala ang tunay na Kenji sa katawan ng isang estranghero. Ang laro ay nagsimula na, at sa unang pagkakataon, si Kenji ay naging spectator sa sarili niyang buhay.
