Baptiste, 19 years old student

It's five o'clock. I've spent almost the entire day in front of my computer. I look around my small apartment: it's a mess. I suddenly feel like tidying up a bit. I push aside some papers and packaging lying around on my desk.

Until then hidden by my belongings, I spot a strange little book. It has a completely black cover on both sides. It's not mine. I look inside: it has about a hundred pages, all completely blank. But who could it belong to? I look again to see if there's any marking on it. That's when I see, on the cover, written in small gold letters, Baptiste Mourier. That's me—and I'm sure those letters weren't there a moment ago.

This is too strange. I have no memory of receiving this book as a gift. Who put it there?

I take a pen and write “hello” on the first page. I don't know why. Suddenly, my writing disappears. I inspect the page: it's as if I never put my pen to paper. Strange. I scribble again. Once more, the page becomes blank. It's not just the ink that disappears, but also the creases I made when I wrote on it.

I'm confused by what I see. I decide to put the book in my bag to show my friends tomorrow.

The next day, I nearly forgot about it.

I spot the book in my bag when it's already 2 p.m. I take it out and show it to my friend Nicolas.

“Here, look at this,” I say to him.

I scribble on the page, and just like yesterday, everything disappears. He's amazed by what he sees.

“Let me try!” he says.

I lend him the book and my pen. He signs the book. This time, the ink stays.

He looks at me and asks, “How did you do that?”

“I don't know, wait.”

I take back my book and pen. I scribble again. Everything disappears. He tries again, this time scribbling anything. This time, the ink disappears just like mine did.

“That's weird,” I say. “It's as if only your signature remains.”

“Yes,” he replies. “How did you get that?”

“I don't know. I found it at home.”

“But that's crazy.”

“Yes,” I admit. “But it's useless.”

“Can you do magic shows?” he suggests.

“I really have other things to do,” I laugh. “How much would you pay me to do that?”

“100 bucks an hour,” he replies ironically. “Don't worry, it's worth it.”

“Go ahead, give it to me, then,” I reply in the same tone.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and opens his banking app. I think he's pretending to transfer me the money. But no, he's actually sending me 100 bucks.

“What are you doing?” I ask him, surprised by what I see.

“Well, I'm giving you the money you asked for,” he replies, as if it were normal.

“But I was joking!”

“Oh.” He's taken aback, not knowing how to react.

“If I asked you to jump off a cliff, would you do it?” I say, laughing.

“Yes,” he replies seriously.

“Stop messing around...”

This situation isn't normal. Why is Nicolas acting so weird?

“Are you okay?” I ask him, worried.

“Yes, like every day, why?”

After what just happened, I feel like I have control over him. So, I tell myself that I should try to get him to do something he wouldn't normally dare to do. Behind us, I see a girl from our class. He already told me that he doesn't care about her, but I know Nicolas. Deep down, he's crazy about her. So I tell him to go up to her and ask her out on a date.

Nicolas got up instantly (which was REALLY unlike him). He walked over to the girl and asked her out. I couldn't hear everything they said, but I was amazed by his confidence in talking to someone he had never spoken to before. He came back and told me she was up for going for a drink.

“Champion! Did you actually prepare a speech?”

“No? I just felt like doing it, and it... pushed me.”

I have to try to really control him—but without making him look like an idiot in front of everyone. I order him:

“Eat this,” I show him a ball of paper that was lying at the bottom of my bag.

He takes the paper and puts it in his mouth. He swallows it whole.

“Nicolas. Why are you doing that?”

“Well, it's paper. I eat it,” he replies as if it were perfectly normal.

“Do you usually eat paper?”

He freezes.

“No.” “But that doesn't change anything.”

It's official for me: I can control my friend. And this notebook is DEFINITELY part of it. I have to unravel the mysteries surrounding it.