An Introduction or a Prologue?
You can’t remember what day it was, or even whose story you were in, when you first woke up with the soul crushing realization that you were only a side character in a story. It wasn’t even in one of those cliche moments when you’d sleep and wake up to the horrifying reality of not existing. All you remember was screaming and having a breakdown in class as the clock struck exactly 2:18 p.m
That you definitely remember.
You watched as the second hand ticked away and the minute hand shifted just a centimetre, then you were just screaming. You were a character in a story; you were reduced to nothing but a general description and the name (Y/N). You were pretty sure your name probably sounded different to everyone. Who even was everyone? You also remember being taken to the nurse and being told to just lie down while they called your parents.
It was there, in the cold of the office with the feeling of the vinyl-like bed sticking to your legs, that you realized that you could see the story you were in. You could see the protagonist, their name and face long faded, and the love interests. You could see the plot, the scenes that needed to happen, the scenes that were happening, who you needed to be as a supporting character, etc. All like an incredible movie in your head.
You hated it.
You could see all the events that needed to line up. You could see the end of the story. And somehow, you knew the reason you were bestowed the curse knowledge of your existence. Your job was to happily play your role and to make sure the story reached it’s ending. But, what would happen after? After the ending was reached? Even your mind and the self-awareness you were granted didn’t answer that question.
You found out when you fucked up the story and created a whole new ending. You learned then that following the path set was the best way to finish the story. After immediately becoming aware of your role, you rejected and pretended like everything was okay. You tried to ignore and not be the personality the story had designed you to be. You ignored signs and events.
You ended up creating an ending where the love rival got the guy and everyone was miserable.
HOWEVER, you got to learn what happened.
The ending would happen, the day or night went on, you would go to sleep, and you would wake up in a new story with a random genre. Slice of Life, mostly Romance, Thriller, Drama, Supernatural, Fantasy, Horror, etc. You name them. Just like that.
All the people you knew? Gone.
Places you grew up in? Gone.
Parents given to you by whatever fucked up world you existed in? Gone
All of it just disappeared and you were expected to move onto the next story.
With new friends.
New memories.
New backstory.
New parents.
All of these worried you, but what really scared you was the idea that your appearance would change, but in your head you knew you were still just a general description and a blank slate of a name. Ugh, even now you still couldn’t accept the thought that your name was (Y/N) but..not?
You just preferred not to think about it.
Luckily, when you woke up and looked in a mirror you looked like you. Thank god. You couldn’t lose your already established sense of identity, though even that was barely hanging on by a thread. It took you a few stories to really, and I mean really, accept your situation. You were a character in a story. You were to make sure the story progresses. Once you get the ending, you move on to the next one. It was easier said than done. If memory served you correctly, it was the 14th story that you finally gave up and followed along. You actually ended up dying, but it was the proper end.
But, that also answered another question. What happened when you died?
Take a wild guess.
You were just thrown into another story. You couldn't even fucking die and find the sweet release of death. You were simply just an immortal consciousness, hopping from existence to existence in different plots. You couldn’t even have your own personality sometimes. Of course, as the years and stories passed you learned to suppress the almost programmed responses the world wanted you to fulfill. It took a lot of energy to suppress a “bubbly giggle” if you were supposed to be a chatty happy-go-lucky best friend, but you learned how and eventually ignoring the programming (?) became easy shit. Still, it could be confusing.
You were pretty much a goddamn veteran at this point, but sometimes the stories can throw you for a loop. You can be insignificant or semi-important. You can be old or young. You can work in a castle. You can get eaten by a sea monster. One thing is for sure, you have never been a protagonist... or an antagonist for that matter.
And you never will.
That's just how the stories went and will continue to go.