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I’m the Villainess in His Love Story / Chapter 1: The Kiss and the Comments
I’m the Villainess in His Love Story

I’m the Villainess in His Love Story

Author: Diya Khan


Chapter 1: The Kiss and the Comments

When I was kissing the campus ka sabse bada bad boy on the hostel terrace, a flood of desi comments flashed before my eyes:

[Arre heroine ka dil toot jayega yaar 😭]

[Arjun, tu bhi na! Heroine pichle 5 saal se tujhe pasand karti hai!]

[Yeh supporting ladki kab jayegi, mujhe toh heroine ka happy ending dekhna hai 😤]

[Tension mat lo, jab hero-heroine milenge na, tab Arjun ko sab yaad aayega aur guilt mein jal jayega. Tabhi toh asli drama shuru hoga!]

So, this is a story about a playboy’s redemption. Main hoon cannon fodder girlfriend—Arjun Malhotra ki woh waali.

After he dumps me, he’ll meet his asli pyaar—the original heroine, the sweet and sanskari Priya Sharma.

1

When I was kissing Arjun Malhotra on the hostel terrace, I heard a faint sound behind me.

The terrace was still, the usual yellow corridor light barely lighting up the old cement floor. Below, a pressure cooker whistled and an auto’s horn echoed, Delhi’s life carrying on even as my own heart hammered in my chest.

I opened my eyes and caught a flash—a white dupatta vanishing behind the terrace door.

Instinctively, my hand flew to check my own dupatta, then I fiddled with my hair, nerves jangling. Was that Priya? My heart hammered. What if the whole hostel saw us?

The ends of the dupatta fluttered out like a bird’s wings, gone so quickly I almost doubted myself. The faint trace of rose-scented perfume hung in the humid air, mixing with the monsoon-damp concrete.

Then, lines of WhatsApp-like comments popped up before me—

My breath caught—these weren’t just thoughts, but a barrage of judgments, like constant group chat notifications. It was as if the entire Sharma parivaar WhatsApp group was peering into my life, gossiping with chai in hand.

Piecing together the clues, I figured out the truth.

It was almost like Dadi muttering at the TV, ‘Arrey, dekho, ab kya hoga!’ while watching her daily soap.

I’m living inside a novel about a reformed bad boy.

The realisation settled over me like Mumbai humidity—sticky and impossible to shake off.

Male lead: Arjun Malhotra, campus ka king, heartbreaker, Delhi ka launda.

Heroine: Priya Sharma, gentle and obedient, secretly pining for Arjun for years.

And me? Main villainess hoon—the girl sabko hate karne mein maza aata hai.

The contrast that highlights the hero’s special feelings for the heroine. The doormat for their love story.

Soon, Arjun will dump me for creating a scene, clearing the way for his years-long romantic entanglement with Priya.

Even as I stood there, a slight breeze lifted my hair—sticky from the evening’s heat—and laughter drifted up from the mess hall, so ordinary and yet so far from this dramatic script.

Lost in thought, a clear voice broke in next to me:

"Sneha, what are you daydreaming about?"

His tone was teasing, familiar—the type that always made girls on campus giggle and toss their hair. He grinned and added, "Kya hua, Sneha? Sapne mein Arjun Malhotra dikh raha hai kya?"

I looked up and met a pair of smiling, flirtatious eyes.

He leaned in for another kiss. I quickly raised my hand, blocking his shoulder.

"Someone saw us."

He glanced around, trying to play it cool. "Kaun?"

But I caught the half-second his brows knit together—classic Delhi boy, caught off-guard but too proud to show.

With the comments scrolling in my head, I stared at the half-open iron door and answered silently:

The girl you’ll love more than life itself, someday.

The words tasted bitter, like shaadi-mandap dhols beating for someone else, not me.

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