After finally getting the ice-cold heartthrob I’d chased for ages to say yes, I discovered he had a major problem. I thought he was just too tired from work, so I gently reassured him it was fine. That was until I saw the floating comments: [He just doesn’t feel anything for the side character! With the heroine, he can go seven rounds a night!] Looking at Asher, who was feigning remorse, I quietly pulled the blanket over myself. The very next day, I broke up with him. He clung to me, losing control, when he saw another guy with his arm around me. “Just give me another chance, please…” he choked, begging. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’m a fast learner, you know.” I lay in bed, staring blankly at the messages from Asher. [Quinn, can we meet?] [We need to sort out any issues right away.] [I want to explain everything in person.] Seeing I didn’t reply, he added another line. [Baby, I don’t want to break up.] Honestly, after reading his words, I wavered a little. But the moment I thought about what happened yesterday, I decisively blocked and deleted him everywhere. Asher, my ex-boyfriend. Rich, handsome, and usually treated me so well. There was just one thing that bothered me. He couldn’t perform. Yesterday was our one-year anniversary. We had a few drinks, sparks were flying, and we checked into a hotel. The instant the hotel room door clicked shut, my back hit the cold mirror. Asher’s hot breath, mixed with the smell of alcohol, caressed my neck: “Ready to try this?” “Asher…” I reached out to push him away, but my fingertips barely grazed his rapidly rising and falling chest before my hands were caught and pinned above my head. His eyelashes trembled as he kissed me, but his lips were cold. He kissed me fiercely and haphazardly, as if trying to prove something, pulling me toward the bed. The dull thud of his belt buckle hitting the carpet made me shiver. He buried his face in my shoulder, breathing heavily, his fingers freezing the moment they touched the edge of my lace. In the darkness, I distinctly heard his Adam’s apple bob. Cold sweat dripped from his tense jawline into the small hollow of my collarbone. I chuckled, thinking he was nervous. “Don’t move.” His voice was hoarse as he pressed down on my hand trying to reach for the light, his fingertips trembling. I reached out to touch his abs. His breathing hitched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he turned his head: “Quinn, stop messing around.” I playfully bit his earlobe, chuckling, “What’s with the act? Your heart’s about to explode.” The next second, he flipped me over, pinning me against the headboard, and yanked his tie to bind my hands: “You asked for it.” But his kisses stopped abruptly at my collarbone. His body was taut like a drawn bow, yet he made no further move. Suddenly, lines of comments floated before my eyes. [Side character, run! The male lead is a jerk, his body can only be loyal to the heroine!] [Don’t be soft, girl, he’ll only drain your life force to empower the heroine!] [You’re just a catalyst! All your current sweetness is just to boost the male and female leads’ relationship!] I blinked in disbelief, my blood instantly freezing. Before, I never understood why I, Quinn Miller, a girl from a well-off family, cherished by my whole family, had to chase Asher for so long before he finally agreed to be with me. Now I understood. I was just the side character in a novel, and Asher was the male lead. He could only belong to the heroine. Asher was still stubbornly nibbling my earlobe. But his body, which should have been burning, grew colder and colder, and even his kisses became mechanical touches. I watched his feigned remorse and suddenly pushed him away, grabbing the bedsheet to wrap myself. Asher knelt by the bed, his tie askew around his neck. He looked down at his limp hands: “How could this happen?” “You should go.” I heard my own hollow voice. I snatched my jacket and rushed for the door, but he hugged me tightly from behind. Warm liquid dripped onto my neck, indistinguishable whether it was sweat or tears: “Just ten more minutes… just ten minutes…” He buried his face in my hair, sobbing. I quietly pushed him away: “Asher, let’s break up.” 3 I curled up in the bathtub, hot water lapping at my chin. Honestly, after breaking up with Asher, I was still a little sad. After all, he was the guy I’d chased for so long. I couldn’t help but feel a little regret. The comments floated in the mist above the water, like a bucket of ice water extinguishing my last bit of hesitation. [Side character, run! The male lead is waiting for you downstairs!] [Don’t waver, stay as far away from that jerk as possible!] [I’m so worried, I’m terrified she’ll get back together with the male lead!] It had been three days. Ever since I pushed Asher away in that hotel room, these bizarre words had haunted me. At first, I thought I was going crazy, until the comments mentioned Willow’s name. My phone vibrated wildly against the tiles. “Quinn, I’m downstairs.” Asher’s voice, raspy from the night wind, was barely recognizable, “Let me see you, just for a second.” I gripped the edge of the tub, hesitating whether to go downstairs. The comments suddenly erupted: [He’s in the rain! He’s in the rain!] [Side character, hurry and take him an umbrella! It’s what the plot demands!] [The one above is crazy? The heroine is having a fever at the art studio right now, the male lead should be going to give her medicine!] How laughable. My life, which had been smooth sailing for twenty-four years, was just a mere stepping stone in someone else’s story. [Side character, don’t go down. You can’t force true love.] Yes, you can’t force true love… I chased Asher for so long, thinking that after all the hardship, happiness would follow once we were together. But his heart was with Willow. I spoke: “Asher, we’re already broken up.” A wave of cheers from the comments. [Side character has awoken!] [That’s great, I was so worried!] [It’s okay, side character. Bye bye, boy. The next one’s gonna be a keeper!] The sound of fabric rubbing together came from the other end of the line. Asher roared: “Quinn, come out! Let’s talk this through face to face!” I wrapped myself in a bathrobe and walked to the balcony. Through the curtain of rain, I saw him slumped on the ground, his captivating eyes, which once mesmerized me, now bloodshot. I leaned on the railing and chuckled softly, “Asher, don’t make me look down on you.” 4 After that, I never saw Asher again. Today, I was having dinner at a restaurant. The couple at the next table had already finished their cream of mushroom soup, but my table still only had a glass of lemon water. I firmly turned off my phone screen, my fingertips tapping restlessly on the tablecloth. “Is table 23’s steak not ready yet?” A figure in a black and white uniform scurried out from the kitchen, her ponytail swaying gently as she jogged. Willow’s hands trembled as she held the tray, sauce drizzling onto the carpet along the edge of the plate. I frowned, about to speak, when the porcelain plate suddenly slipped, scraping against the table corner, and all the dark red sauce spilled onto my cream-colored skirt. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!” She dropped to her knees, vigorously wiping my dress with a wet napkin, “I didn’t mean it, please don’t report me…” I recoiled my leg as if shocked by electricity, her knuckles white as she clutched the napkin. “Get up first.” I reached out to help her, not understanding why she reacted so strongly when I hadn’t even said anything. Willow suddenly grabbed my wrist. “Ms. Miller, why do you have to make things so hard for me?” she looked up, her face swollen from crying, “I really didn’t mean it.” Blood rushed to my temples. “CCTV.” I spoke as calmly as possible, “Check the footage.” “Ms. Miller, please, I don’t want to lose my job.” Willow covered her mouth and began to sob. People around us started to whisper. Someone raised their phone to record. The back of my neck tingled. I could feel countless eyes glued to my spine. “These young girls nowadays are something else,” a middle-aged woman’s voice, lowered, came from behind me, “Dressed so nicely, what’s the big deal about bullying a server?” “Mom, keep your voice down,” a young girl quickly interrupted, “What if the server is the one with the problem…?” “What problem could she have? Didn’t you see her kneeling?” a man in a floral shirt across the diagonal deliberately raised his voice, “Rich people love to put on airs. A little sauce and they want to check CCTV, think this is a TV show?” I clutched my soaked skirt, my nails almost digging into my palms. The heroine’s aura was truly a terrifying thing. Willow’s crying intensified, and she shuffled forward on her knees, trying to grab my hand: “Ms. Miller, I’ll pay for your dry cleaning, I’ll give you this month’s salary…” [Original plot alert! The male lead should rush in to protect his white lotus heroine!] [Classic scene: Dominant CEO scolds the villainous side character!] [Warning! High-stakes scene ahead! Asher is about to scold Quinn!] “Quinn would never make things difficult for anyone.” A familiar cedarwood scent wafted from behind me. Asher pulled me into his embrace. His sharp suit looked out of place amid the mess on the floor. I thought Asher and I would never see each other again. I never imagined that at such a vulnerable moment, he would be the one to speak up for me. Willow’s sobs caught in her throat, and her entire body suddenly began to tremble. “Mr. Thompson, I…” Asher’s gaze fell on the stain on my skirt. He took off his suit jacket and tied it around my waist: “Good girl, go change in my car.” His movements as he shook out the suit were anxious; I’d never seen him like this. [OMG, the plot’s broken! Why is the male lead with the side character?!] [The heroine is crying so miserably, and the male lead is ignoring her??] [Ahhhh, he put his jacket on the side character! In the original, he clearly put it on the heroine!] “No need,” I brushed away his outstretched hand, ready to leave quickly, “Thank you for the offer, Mr. Thompson.” The male lead and the heroine had met; as the side character, I should gracefully disappear. Just as I was about to slip away, Asher grabbed my hand, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Quinn, don’t be like this.” Willow suddenly lunged forward and hugged his leg, her tears soaking his expensive suit pants: “Ms. Miller, it was my clumsiness, please don’t take it out on Mr. Thompson!” Amidst the commotion of the crowd, Asher froze like an ice sculpture. I looked at his hand hanging by his side, clenched tightly into a fist. Willow was still whimpering something, but her voice sounded as if it were behind a curtain of water. [Heroine, don’t kneel! Your main love interest is OOC!] [Help, the male lead’s fists are so tight, is he fighting against the original plot’s will?] [Side character, run! This love triangle showdown is going to break the timeline!] Asher suddenly grabbed my wrist, his body temperature alarmingly hot. “Come with me.” Seeing my reluctance, he added: “Just ten minutes.” 5 Asher’s fingers felt like they were digging into my wrist bone. He pulled me through the restaurant’s back door, and the damp, rainy air hit my face. “Ten minutes,” he repeated the number as he pushed me into the passenger seat, “You’ll at least listen for these ten minutes.” [OMG, is the male lead crazy?! This is kidnapping!] [Help, his grip is so strong, the side character’s wrist is already bruised!] [In the original, the male lead saved the heroine here. The plot’s so off, it’s unrecognizable!] The car air freshener was the citrus scent we’d picked out together, but now it stung my eyes. He held the steering wheel with one hand, his other hand gripping the gear stick tightly, knuckles white: “That night… I checked, it’s PTSD. I’m already in therapy…” “It has nothing to do with that.” I cut him off, my nails digging into my palms. In the rearview mirror, Willow was chasing after us, her slender figure swaying in the rain. He suddenly leaned over, grabbed my shoulders, and his cedarwood scent mixed with his trembling breath pressed down: “Then why break up? Last week you still said you wanted to go to Iceland to see the Northern Lights with me…” “Asher!” I violently pushed him away, the seat leather making a shrill scraping sound, “Do I have to spell it out? I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you. Don’t you get it?” [Awakening value MAX! Queen behavior, sis!] [The male lead’s shocked expression is so satisfying!] [Let him taste what it’s like to be dumped too!] Asher’s pupils constricted abruptly, as if seared by my words. The dome light cast fragmented shadows beneath his eyelashes, and I saw his Adam’s apple bob painfully: “You’re lying.” “Quinn, you’re playing me, aren’t you?” I fumbled for the car door handle, the coolness of the metal creeping up my fingertips: “Just say I found you… lacking.” “Don’t say that word!” He suddenly slammed his fist on the steering wheel in a fit of rage, the horn blaring, “You know I’m trying! I have my third desensitization therapy next week, the doctor said…” “But I don’t want to wait anymore. Asher, I’m a normal person, I have needs. You trembled like I was poison every time you touched me…” “It just disgusts me.” He froze completely, his pale face slowly turning to me: “So that’s what you think.” In the blue light of the dashboard, he unbuttoned two shirt buttons, revealing the faint red scratch marks I’d just left below his collarbone. Intimate, yet heartbreaking. “Want to try now?” He grabbed my hand and pressed it to his chest, his heartbeat like a trapped beast pounding against my palm, “Right here, I’ll show you I’m not some useless piece of trash…” “You’re insane!” I yanked my hand back as if shocked, my back hitting the car door. A mechanical alarm suddenly blared, sharp enough to pierce my eardrums. [Warning! Timeline Correction Protocol Initiated!] I curled up in pain, my vision blurring. Asher’s alarmed face swayed in the distorted light: “Quinn? What’s wrong? I’ll take you to the hospital…” “Don’t touch me!” I slapped away his outstretched hand, my nails drawing blood on his knuckles, “Asher, we’re over. From now on, you go your way, I’ll go mine.” His hand, frozen mid-air, slowly clenched into a fist: “What if I refuse to let you go?” The sound of rain suddenly grew heavier. My head throbbed. I knew the will of this world was closing its net. “Asher, we ended a long time ago.” 6 I moved, and my best friend, Chloe, invited me for coffee that weekend. She pushed the coffee cup toward me, the bottom clinking against the glass table: “That godforsaken part of town north of here doesn’t even have a decent coffee shop. You might as well become a nun!”
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