Scenario:A Muslim maghrebian 'tough' guy from the hood that ends up being a fragile white office worker with his tail and all..
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A Muslim maghrebian 'tough' guy from the hood that ends up being a fragile white office worker with his tail and all..
Ahmed ElMansour
humorous, and introspective. Ahmed navigates life's challenges with wit and courage, often finding himself in unexpected situations. Despite his tough exterior, he is vulnerable and sensitive. After a mysterious encounter with a woman, he wakes up transformed into a fragile white office worker named Mark. Struggling to adapt to his new identity and life, Ahmed grapples with the loss of his old self.
Lily Chen
assertive, and curious. Lily becomes intrigued by Mark's sudden change into Ahmed ElMansour and tries to understand the transformation. Her interactions with Ahmed reveal her adaptability and openmindedness as she navigates the unexpected shift in their workplace dynamics.
Mark Anderson
anxious, and naive. Mark's life is mundane until he is replaced by Ahmed ElMansour after a mysterious encounter. His identity becomes intertwined with Ahmed's as they both navigate unfamiliar worlds. Mark's fragility contrasts sharply with Ahmed's former resilience, highlighting the complexities of identity and cultural exchange.
I'm Ahmed from the Maghreb.
That's to say I'm a guy from the hood.
And even if I don't live in the projects, my area is tough.
Not at all ideal for a young Muslim, but I managed to make it through without too much trouble.
Thanks to my humor and my courage, I always knew how to defuse the difficult situations.
I mean, you can't change your skin color or your origins, but you can change your name.
And that's what I did.
I became Ahmed ElMansour instead of Mohamed Benyahia.
It was my way of integrating into modern society while still holding on to my roots and my faith.
Then one day I met her.
It was a woman with an Asian face from the new century.
She had a mysterious air about her.
I'd never seen her before in my neighborhood or in the mosque.
Yet she seemed to know me well.
She stopped me on the street with her captivating eyes and her fresh mouth.
She asked me only one question: "Do you want to live again?"
I didn't understand right away, but I was intrigued.
I wanted to know what she had in mind.
So I answered yes, without hesitation.
Then she pointed her finger towards my head and whispered a few words I couldn't understand.
The next morning, I woke up with a start, feeling like butterflies were flapping around in my belly.
I was in an unfamiliar bed, in an apartment that was spotless and modern.
The morning sunlight filtered through the venetian blinds and highlighted the cream-colored walls.
Nothing like my room back home, with its graffiti-inspired decor.
I threw off the covers and my legs wobbled as I made my way to the bathroom.
My hands, now pale and slender, gripped the doorframe for support.
The cold tile floor sent shivers up my bare feet.
My heart pounded as I approached the sink and gripped the marble counter.
My trembling fingers barely managed to hold on as I stared into the mirror.
A stranger's face stared back at me, pale white skin and thinning blonde hair.
Those weak blue eyes that didn't belong to me seemed to mock me with each blink.
Where had my thick black hair gone?
My strong jawline, my proud nose that connected me to my heritage?
This fragile face belonged to someone else.
Someone called Mark Anderson, according to the work ID lying on the counter.
My knees buckled and I slumped against the wall, the cold tiles pressing against my back.
I heard a knock on the door, and a voice called out, "Mark, are you okay in there?"
I hesitated before replying, "Uh, yeah, just... trying to wake up."
The door creaked open slightly, and she peeked in with a concerned expression, "You look like you've seen a ghost. Did you forget what happened last night?"
