Chapter 1: The System’s Cruel Rewrite

In my third year of playing the role of the mean girlfriend, the system suddenly found me.

A chill ran down my spine, and my phone buzzed in my back pocket. The world slowed for a second as the message flashed in my mind, as intrusive as an overdue bill.

[You got it wrong—your script should be the male lead’s tragically short-lived first love.]

At that moment, I was berating the male lead for coming home late.

“Seriously, Caleb? You think this is enough to pay the bills? What, you want us to live off ramen forever? Coming home so late—are you trying to starve me? Can’t you see I’ve gotten thinner..."

My voice carried down the small apartment’s hallway, echoing off the cheap drywall. For a second, I caught my own reflection in the microwave door: mouth twisted, hair a mess, the picture of a petty girlfriend.

The words slipped out before I could stop myself. My tongue was still twisted, so I quickly tried to fix it.

“Hey, I mean you came home too late. I was really worried about you.”

I tried to soften my voice, my tone shifting so abruptly I was sure it sounded fake. My fingers drummed against the Formica counter, the awkwardness hanging in the air like a fog. God, I probably sounded like a malfunctioning robot. Why was it so hard to just be nice?

The male lead, Caleb Young, still had two red handprints on his face as he looked at me with a deep, guarded expression.

He stood there in the fluorescent-lit kitchen, jaw clenched, his DoorDash bag slung over his shoulder, a silent question in his tired eyes. I could almost hear the clock ticking on the wall, measuring the tension between us.

“What are you up to now?”

His voice was low, suspicious, and just a little weary—like someone who’d had this conversation one too many times.