His brown colored eyes slowly opened, seeing only the ceiling above in his dimly lit bedroom. The silence around him was peaceful as he lay in bed, his thoughts wandering aimlessly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill his lungs.
The room was spacious and tastefully decorated, with plush carpeting, a large canopy bed, and an ornate dresser. The walls were painted a soft cream color, and the curtains were a rich shade of blue. There were a few pieces of artwork scattered around the room, and a pair of comfy chairs sat by the window. The room smelled faintly of lavender, and he couldn't help but breathe in the calming scent.
Randolph Carter, formerly Adam from his previous life, is now in his new life as a billionaire and philanthropist who wishes to change society for the betterment of mankind. He is an avid reader and researcher, and his vast knowledge of new technologies and the supernatural has made him a respected figure in the academic community.
However, even with his new life and second chance to try to find his happiness once again, he still feels the pain of having lost everything and having dearly missed each and every one of them. At first, Carter expected to have his memories erased by being reborn as a different person, but luckily for him, he still remembers every moment of his past life, including his own death and the aftermath of it.
Opening his eyes once again, Carter cannot believe he spent a lifetime of never-ending torment in that burning inferno. The creativity these demons have at inflicting him pain and suffering is beyond his comprehension. He just couldn't get over the fact that he was saved by a mysterious light.
With the bonus of retaining his memories after reaching near his twenties, which in itself doesn't sound bad because he can still be himself. Having those memories gone, despite the pain and misery they bring, is what defines him. To lose them would be to lose a part of himself.
Although there are times when it's painful to think about his past and how things might have been different, he can't dwell on it. Especially after having moved to Japan before his parents were brutally killed in a family picnic by gang war, leaving him as the only survivor.
"Even when I thought things would get any better, I still lose those I love," chuckling darkly from this, "life always finds a way to remind me that my happiness can only last for so long." Carter got up from his bed and sat at the edge of it, staring down with contemplation.
"Time to start my day again; I can't leave my men hanging without me," he said in a determined manner while rubbing his eyes, having gathered himself up to prepare himself for the day and get back into his routine while not denying the fact that his life has become somewhat monotonous. With his new wealth and status, he could do whatever he wanted, but he still chose to do what he did before he became a billionaire.
Just by being himself and doing what he loves. Trying to do good in the world on his own terms, even if it was unconventional and sometimes borderline illegal. It was the best way for him to stay true to who he is. He also doesn't like to brag, but he has a pretty good life.
Standing up from his bed, he stretched his arms and neck with the only thing he was wearing being his boxer shorts, something he wears whenever he falls asleep. "Christ," he said, rubbing his forehead, he noticed a pile of sweat on his back hand. "I need to take a shower first," he mumbled, sighing at the realization, "I can't go out in public like this; I look like a mess."
Carter's morning routine was simple. Wake up, shower, and brush his teeth; eat breakfast; get dressed; go to work; come home; and relax. There was no need to complicate things. He was a simple man with simple needs. And he was happy with that.
Heading straight into the bathroom, the place was large and spacious, with a walk-in shower and a separate bathtub. The sink was a double vanity with a massive mirror on the wall above it. Also decorated in a similar style to the bedroom, with plush carpeting and tasteful art on the walls.
Smiling at the sight of paintings and drawings, his parents always had a passion for art, even if it was just a hobby. His mother was especially good at it. Carter often looked forward to seeing her latest creation, as she would always have a new piece to show him.
But sadly for him, she is dead, and as cruel as life is to the point of experiencing so many times losing his loved ones, he learned how to grieve and move forward while treasuring the memories of those he cared about as he entered the shower, turning the knob of the faucet, making sure the water was just right before stepping in, letting the warm stream wash over him as the feeling was relaxing, and he could feel all of his tension melting away.
Closing his eyes, he let the water run down his body, enjoying the feeling of being clean. He took his time, not wanting to rush. He knew he would be late for work if he didn't hurry, but he didn't care. Because being a billionaire has its perks, he can afford to be late every once in awhile.
Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and went to the sink, where a well-placed toothbrush and paste awaited him. He brushed his teeth thoroughly, making sure to get all the plaque and gunk out. After he was done, he rinsed his mouth and washed his face. Looking up in the mirror, he saw himself: clean as the day he was born, his face looking fresh and clear, hair neatly combed, and his smile bright and welcoming.
"Looking sharp, Mr. Carter," complimenting himself with a smile on his face, "let's see how the day will go for you," his smile quickly disappeared as he frowned, "hopefully, I don't have to deal with some stupid shit," groaning at his own words, "if those politicians decide to ruin my day," his tone turning bitter as he was annoyed, "then I swear I'm going to lose my damn mind."
Exiting outside the bathroom, he removed the towel and wet boxers before dropping them on the floor as he walked towards the closet, his body completely bare and exposed. The closet was large and well organized, with plenty of space for his various suits, shirts, and shoes.
"As much as my parents want me to wear something differently, I always have a thing for trench coats," as he began picking out the same attire he always wears, the same outfit he has always had since he lost them. A grey-colored trench coat over his white shirt, along with a black tie, grey pants, and, of course, his loafer shoes.
Grabbing his clothes, he puts them on with careful precision. Making sure everything was neat and wrinkle-free. Once he was satisfied, he closed the closet doors and headed over to the wide mirror embedded into the wall, looking at himself as he did his best to not think about anything else besides what was in front of him.
