Chapter 1: The Troll Who Slipped Up

I woke up inside a Hollywood tell-all novel and, just like that, I was Cassidy Monroe—the infamous number-one hater of the most dazzling A-lister in town. Seriously? This was my new life?

My claim to fame? I’d churned out 108 savage, no-holds-barred hit pieces, all aimed right at the untouchable Vivienne Lane.

Every time Vivienne hyped her latest blockbuster, I’d be lurking in the comments, ready with my signature snark: “Your kissing scenes are tragic. Maybe you should let me show you how it’s done.”

She’d always shoot back, playful as hell: “If you kiss me, you’re not allowed to kiss anyone else ever again!” I could practically hear her smirk through the screen. For a split second, I’d freeze—did she mean it? But I’d keep the banter rolling.

Whenever she posted those thirst-trap photos in black stockings, I’d fire off, “Hey, Viv, let me take a shot!”

She’d reply, all challenge and tease: “I only give chances to people who come prepared. So, are you ready?”

God help me, all I wanted was to roast her acting and her questionable taste—so why did she have to be this damn charming? Every time I tried to drag her, she’d just rope me in deeper.

Rumors would spiral, her agent would beg her to get some PR going, but Vivienne? She’d just strut right up and say, “Why bother with PR? Let’s just go public!”

Here’s the real story: I’d woken up inside a novel, and my setup was a little… complicated. Like, meta-level complicated.

On the outside, I was Cassidy Monroe—just another nobody. A bottom-tier actress with a career circling the drain.

But behind the scenes? I was the notorious troll running the biggest anti-Vivienne gossip account—scheming, relentless, and always stirring up drama for the crowd.

There was a game-like system in my head laying out the rules: complete the storyline, and I’d walk away with a ten-million-dollar payout.

Ten million bucks! For that kind of cash, I’d gladly play the villain, the drama queen, the ultimate internet troll—whatever it took to get the job done.

My agent Carla called me up: “Cass, I landed you a spot on ‘Screen Legends.’ This is it—your whole career’s riding on this.”

Honestly? Fame didn’t matter to me. The real draw? Vivienne Lane was one of the show’s mentors. Jackpot.

A wicked little grin crept up. I started brainstorming 108 ways to sabotage her on live TV. Ten million, here I come!

The show broke down into four rounds: prelims, mentor challenge, team challenge, and the finals. Classic reality TV drama, American-style.

I sailed through the prelims—turns out, when I actually tried, I could act. Who knew?

Before the mentor challenge round, the show hyped up its three mentors: Oscar-winning actress Vivienne Lane, Oscar-winner Mason Grant, and veteran star Walter Chen.

Promo videos for each mentor dropped online. Vivienne’s was all about her new film, ‘Thirty Days of Desire.’

Steamy kissing scenes everywhere, the kind that make your heart jump out of your chest. The comments section was a full-on swoon fest:

“So tingly, my romance brain is about to explode.”

“I want to fall in love now—what do I do?”

“Viv’s kissing scenes are next-level!”

As a pro-level hater, I cycled through all my burner accounts, dropping every variation of: “Those kissing scenes suck. Try kissing me instead.”

Trolling tactic number one: roast the acting. Looking at my neat row of snarky comments, I was already daydreaming about how I’d spend that ten million.

Next morning, Carla called, her voice high-pitched and frantic:

“My god, Cass, are you out of your mind? You just trashed the acting of Hollywood’s queen and king?”

Wait—how did she know it was me? I’d used a burner!

I jolted awake, adrenaline spiking. I scrambled to check the comments from last night.

Crap—I’d posted from my main account by accident. Rookie mistake.

The fans were ruthless:

“So desperate for attention, Cassidy Monroe lives up to her name.”

“Where’d this nobody come from, trying to kiss Mason Grant?”

That’s when it hit me: the male lead in Vivienne’s movie was Mason Grant, the Oscar-winner himself. Oops.

Scrolling further, I found:

“I don’t want my queen anywhere near her! @CassidyMonroe get lost!”

And then, Vivienne’s reply: “If you kiss me, you can’t kiss anyone else ever again!”

It sounded playful, but let’s be real: she and Mason basically owned the kissing scenes—Hollywood’s favorite rumored couple, with gossip flying every time they shared the screen. Anyone who tried to crash that ship was asking to get blacklisted.

Aaaaaah!