Chapter 2: Waking Up the Villain

The sky outside never really lightens—classic winter in the city.

When I wake up, I’m sore and drained in the best way possible.

He really is the main guy.

Even the hottest college athlete couldn’t compare.

My muscles ache, like I ran a marathon without training, but I’d sign up again in a heartbeat. The gray morning light seeps in around the blackout curtains. Somewhere in the building, a neighbor’s shower runs—life goes on, but I’m still floating in the afterglow.

Rolling over, I grab my phone and see a stack of missed calls and Instagram DMs.

I reply, still half-asleep:

[You went off-grid for two days—spill! How many rounds? Any wild positions? Asking for a friend (me).]

[This side chick got everything. I’m salty. (crunching lemon emoji)]

[What is it my premium sub can’t see?]

[Girl, you allergic to sleep? Need a prescription?]

[Side chick covered in hickeys—okay, that’s kinda hot.]

[What’s hot about it? He’s just blowing off steam. Still loves his real girl. Bet he’s already ghosted her.]

[But he didn’t answer her call last night...]

[She did mess up, but he’s got pride. Trust, the drama’s coming—main guy doing laundry with a deadpan face.]

My thumb dances across my cracked screen, texting back with eyes barely open. My friends never let up. I grin—one of those slow, secret smiles that never quite make it to your mouth but fill your chest with something warm and dangerous.

After replying, I close my eyes for a bit.

This comment section? Showed up six months ago.

Right when Mason and I started.

Though, ‘got together’ is a stretch. It was pure speed.

We met that afternoon, swapped numbers, I confessed that night, and he said yes. Less than a day—pure, messy lust at first sight.

From the comments, I pieced it all together.

This world is basically a reality show: exes reuniting, sugar and drama all mixed up.

Mason Hartley’s the main guy, his real girl is his ex, Danielle Brooks. They grew up together, naturally got together, but broke up after a fight when she moved overseas.

Now she’s back in the States, ready for a second chance.

And me? I’m the side chick, the villain here to stir things up, throw myself at Mason, get embarrassed so the real girl looks even better.

Basically, I’m the obstacle to their reunion. The one who gets tossed aside when my part’s played out.

Knowing this, I didn’t avoid Mason. Maybe I should care more. Maybe I should run before it stings. But there’s something addictive about being the villain in someone else’s love story.

I lean back into the pillow, letting the weird reality of my place in this story settle over me. I could leave, but honestly? I want to see how far this goes.