Chapter 1: Villain Girl Goes Off-Script

After joining a competitive gaming reality show with America’s sweetheart, I woke up to a whole new world. Sounds wild, right? But seriously—one minute, I was just me, and the next, boom: new universe, new rules, new me.

It was like being dropped straight into an alternate reality—a place where every camera lens was pointed right at me, and the air practically crackled with the energy of millions watching. The set was all neon and LED. The smell of fresh coffee mixed with nervous sweat hung in the air. It was that anxious excitement you only get when you’re about to make a fool of yourself on live TV. My heart pounded so hard, I could hear the theme music in my head, drowning out everything else.

I’d landed inside a novel as the so-called villain girl—supposedly obsessed with outshining the star.

Of course, right? One minute I was a regular girl, and the next, I was Harper Lane—the infamous troublemaker. The kind of character everyone loves to hate. The one who always winds up as the internet’s favorite scapegoat. Only this time, I had a front-row seat to my own supposed drama.

But honestly? The star—she was just too cute, you know? I couldn’t help myself—I just wanted to be by her side.

It was impossible not to be drawn to her. She was like a living, breathing ray of sunshine—the sort of person who made you forget you were supposed to be her rival. Every time she smiled, my resolve just crumbled, replaced by this overwhelming urge to...protect her. I mean, who cares about being the villain when the heroine is this cute?

So I became her biggest fan: when she played mid lane, I played jungle and handed her the blue buff; when she played ADC, I picked Princess Fei and tanked every hit for her.

It became our thing. I’d hover nearby, always ready to throw myself in front of danger, making sure she got every edge I could give her. The audience probably thought I was just trying to score points, but honestly? I just wanted to see her win. Watching her rack up kills, her face lighting up with every victory, made my own heart do somersaults.

Pretty soon, we were besties, and somehow I even managed to win over her brother.

Don’t ask me how that happened. Maybe it was all those late-night practice sessions, or maybe he just got tired of watching me flail around the map. Either way, the three of us became inseparable—an unlikely trio, but somehow, it worked. The viewers loved it, and I found myself craving their approval more than I’d expected.

That’s how I blew up online and flipped my story—actually winning.

One minute, I was a meme, the next, I was trending for all the right reasons. It was like the universe had flipped a switch, and suddenly, I wasn’t just the villain—I was the underdog everyone wanted to root for. Winning felt amazing, but winning with friends? That was next-level.

When I landed in this world, the show was just starting the champion draft.

The stage lights were blinding, the crowd a low hum of anticipation. The producers barked instructions, and the players shuffled into their seats, hands poised over keyboards. I felt the weight of a million eyes on me, waiting to see if I’d live up to my infamous reputation—or crash and burn in spectacular fashion.

I glanced at my champion pool. Uh oh. I only knew how to play support.

I could practically hear the internet laughing already. Support mains were the butt of every joke, and here I was, about to prove them right. My palms started to sweat, and I forced myself to breathe, hoping no one would notice how out of my depth I felt.

I turned to look at the show’s lead, America’s darling, Savannah Rivers.

She was even more gorgeous in person. Her hair was a perfect cascade of honey-blonde, and her eyes sparkled with a mix of nerves and excitement. I caught myself staring, the rest of the world blurring into the background. It was like watching a living legend—someone you’d only ever seen through a screen, now just a few feet away.

She was staring down at her phone, thick lashes casting shadows, skin so pale it looked almost unreal.

Her concentration was absolute. The way she bit her lip, the gentle furrow of her brow—it was enough to make anyone’s heart skip a beat. Mine definitely did. I found myself memorizing every detail, trying not to look like a total creep on national television.

Holy crap!

I had to physically stop myself from blurting out something embarrassing. My heart did this weird, fluttery thing, and I realized, with a jolt, that I was in way over my head. This wasn’t just a game anymore—it was real, and I was hopelessly, completely smitten.

Help!!!

I sent a silent SOS to the universe. Was it possible to faint from cuteness overload? I was about to find out. My fingers gripped the edge of my chair, knuckles white.

Isn’t she way too cute?

Girl or not, I was floored. Honestly, anyone would be.

I mean, seriously. It wasn’t just me, right? There had to be millions of girls out there who’d die to be in my shoes, and here I was, barely holding it together. If this was some kind of cosmic prank, I was both the victim and the willing participant.

“Harper Lane is about to start her drama again...”

“I don’t get why a total noob would sign up for a gaming show. Just wants attention, or is she hoping to get roasted?”

“Watch, she’ll definitely fight Savvy for a spot. Gross...”

Yep. That Harper Lane? That’s me.

I could see the chat scrolling by at lightning speed, every snarky remark burning itself into my memory. It was like watching a roast in real time, and I was the main course. Still, I couldn’t help but laugh at some of the more creative insults. People really had too much time on their hands.

Like all the so-called villains, I had a name that didn’t fit—a little too sweet for the role.

Harper Lane. It sounded like the protagonist of a Hallmark movie, not the girl everyone loved to hate. Seriously, what were my parents thinking?

“Harper, which position do you want to play?”

Savannah looked up and caught my eye. Her delicate face instantly went pink.

She was even more stunning when she blushed. The way her cheeks flushed, the way her eyes darted away—it was almost too much. I felt my own face heating up, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.

“Harper... what are you staring at?”

Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it sent a jolt straight through me. I blinked, realizing I’d been caught red-handed. My heart thudded in my chest, and I scrambled to recover.

I quickly averted my burning gaze, wiped imaginary drool from my mouth, and replied softly:

“You all go first, I’ll fill in.”

I tried to sound casual, like I wasn’t about to melt into a puddle. I hoped no one noticed the way my voice trembled. Everyone seemed to relax, probably just glad I wasn’t making a fuss.

Seeing how confident I looked, the others were surprised but supportive, leaving me with jungle.

Someone snickered, and I caught a few raised eyebrows. Apparently, they thought I was either brave or clueless. I gave them my best poker face, silently praying I wouldn’t embarrass myself.

“Oh man, only jungle’s left. This is gonna be wild...”

The comments were all snark. I looked at the lineup and locked in Shadow Wolf.

The chat exploded again, a mix of skepticism and outright trolling. I tried not to let it get to me, focusing on the game instead. I could do this. I had to. Right?

“Of course she picked a gross champ...”

I stared at the comments, speechless. They could hate on anything.

It was almost impressive, honestly. If I picked a fan favorite, they’d call me a try-hard. If I picked something off-meta, I was a troll. There was no winning with these people. I just shrugged and let it roll off my back.

At the start, after clearing red, I teamed up with mid and support to invade their blue. After snagging first blood in mid, I typed: “Mid take blue.”

I could practically feel the tension in the room ease up. Maybe I wasn’t totally hopeless after all. My fingers flew across the keyboard, adrenaline pumping as I coordinated with my teammates.

Savannah—my goddess, honestly—seemed shy, telling me to farm first. But I insisted:

“It’s fine, I’ll take the enemy’s.”

I added a little wink emoji, just to make her smile. The chat roasted me for being cocky, but I didn’t care. Savannah hesitated, then accepted the buff, her lips curving into a grateful smile.

The comments sighed, but I ignored them, went and killed the ADC, and kept helping to relieve pressure on our lanes.

Every time I made a play, the chat alternated between praise and criticism. I learned to tune it out, focusing on the game. My only goal was to keep Savannah safe—and maybe show off a little in the process.

When everyone on the enemy team vanished from the minimap, I quickly warned Mason on the side lane, but he still got surrounded.

I pinged the map like crazy, but Mason was too deep. The enemy jungler and support closed in, and before I knew it, Mason’s screen went gray. I winced, knowing the chat would blame me somehow.

Since the enemy jungler couldn’t get any farm, he started relentlessly camping top. After getting caught a few times, Mason started to tilt.

His frustration was obvious, even through the screen. I heard him mutter under his breath, fingers drumming on the desk. Here we go, I thought.

“Harper, are you just running laps in the jungle?”

His tone was sharp, and I could feel the room temperature drop. I took a deep breath, reminding myself not to snap back. This was live TV, after all.

Busy clearing the way for Savannah, I was basically her personal bodyguard.

I made sure to hover near mid, always ready to peel for her. Every time she got ganked, I was there, turning the fight around. The audience probably thought I was obsessed, but honestly? They weren’t wrong.

To be safe and avoid dragging it to late game, I helped push top tower and took dragon. Savannah also helped bot take out the enemy support and ADC.

Our synergy was off the charts—we were totally in sync. It felt like we’d been playing together for years. The chat started to notice, too—some fans even started shipping us, much to my embarrassment.

I flanked and killed the mage, then the team grouped mid and took high ground.

It was a textbook play. The crowd in the studio erupted in cheers, and I couldn’t help but grin. Maybe I wasn’t such a villain after all.

Checked the time—nine minutes into the match.

We were way ahead of schedule. I shot Savannah a thumbs-up, and she flashed me a dazzling smile in return. My heart did another flip.

After repeatedly killing their squishies, the enemy mage and ADC even praised me: “Damn, you’re annoying...”

I laughed out loud, feeling a rush of pride. Even the enemy team couldn’t help but acknowledge my plays. It felt good to be respected, even if it was grudgingly.

So, under Savannah’s lead, we won the first game.

The crowd erupted, and the chat exploded with praise. I glanced at Savannah, who looked more radiant than ever. Victory tasted sweet, but her smile was even sweeter.

“Wow, Harper, you’re amazing!”

Savannah looked at me with stars in her eyes, but the two male guests were clearly not happy.

I caught their side-eye, but shrugged it off. Let them stew. Savannah’s opinion was the only one that mattered to me.

“Just lucky. That champ’s so easy, anyone could play it.”

At this point, a top laner with a 0-8 score piped up with a smirk.

He was dripping with sarcasm, and I had to bite my tongue. I shot him a look, daring him to say more, but he just looked away, embarrassed.

“Savvy, my ADC is pretty great too, right?”

Excuse me!

Was he seriously trying to steal my thunder? I clenched my jaw, determined not to let him get away with it.

Someone’s trying to steal my thunder?

No way I’d let that slide.

Not on my watch. I straightened in my seat, ready to prove myself all over again.

The whole point of this show is to promote the game and pick a spokesperson.

The stakes were high. Everyone here wanted that coveted brand deal—the chance to be the face of the hottest game in America. I could practically feel the tension crackling in the air.

You know, this is one of the hottest games in the country. Seriously, celebs are dying to get in.

It wasn’t just about winning. It was about making a name for yourself, carving out a place in gaming history. The pressure was intense, but I thrived on it.

The final pick goes to whoever performs best overall.

Every move was being watched, analyzed, dissected by millions of fans and a panel of judges. I had to bring my A-game, no matter what.

And my goal? Help Savannah get that spot.

I’d made up my mind from the start. If anyone deserved to be the face of this game, it was her. I’d do whatever it took to make sure she got her moment in the spotlight.

Since waking up here, I’ve just been her hype girl.

It wasn’t a bad gig, honestly. I loved being in her corner, cheering her on, making her laugh. It felt good to be needed, even if it was just as her personal cheerleader.

“Savvy, don’t worry, I’ll serve you the kills on a silver platter.”

I said it with a wink, trying to keep things light. Savannah’s cheeks turned pink, and she ducked her head, a shy smile playing on her lips.

Her reaction was so cute I almost forgot we were on camera. The audience definitely noticed, judging by the flood of heart emojis in the chat.

There was a bit of dust on her left cheek, so I reached out to wipe it off.

My hand moved before my brain could catch up. Her skin was soft, almost porcelain. I lingered a second too long, savoring the moment.

The soft, delicate feel made my hand move on its own—I stroked her cheek before I could stop myself.

It was a small gesture, but it felt electric. I caught my breath, hoping no one else noticed how flustered I was.

“What is she doing???”

“Ugh, why am I starting to ship them...?”

“Ugh, Harper, stop it!”

The vibe in the comments was so charged it nearly jumped out of the screen. I casually withdrew my hand and got ready for the next match.

I pretended nothing happened, but my heart was racing. I could feel Savannah’s gaze on me, and I risked a quick glance, catching her smiling shyly.

At the start, Mason instantly picked jungle, and the ADC and support were still the same as last time.

The tension was palpable. Mason’s fingers flew over the keyboard, and I could tell he was out for blood this round.

“Harper, why don’t you play mid?”

What a joke!

I laughed, shaking my head. No way was I letting Savannah take the brunt of the enemy’s attacks. I’d protect her, no matter what.

How could I let the beautiful Savannah play the tank?

It was practically a crime against humanity. I’d rather throw myself in front of a bus than let her get bruised on my watch.

“Ever heard of the NA server’s top-lane ‘Lone Wolf’?”

Savannah’s smile froze, looking inexplicably awkward.

Her reaction caught me off guard. For a split second, I wondered if I’d said something wrong. But before I could dwell on it, the game started, and I was swept up in the action.

I don’t know if it was just me, but her reaction seemed a little off.

Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe she just didn’t like the nickname. Either way, I pushed the thought aside and focused on the match.

But soon, I was totally absorbed in the match.

The rest of the world faded away. It was just me, the game, and the adrenaline rush of competition. Every move felt instinctual, every decision a split-second calculation.

I have to admit, Mason’s jungle was pretty solid. We had a big lead early, so I leisurely cleared top lane and invaded the enemy jungle.

Mason was a machine, racking up kills and keeping the enemy on their toes. I let him do his thing, focusing on my own lane and picking off stragglers whenever I could.

After getting a quadra kill, Mason started to show off.

He was cocky, taunting the enemy in chat and flexing for the cameras. I rolled my eyes, but secretly, I admired his confidence. Just a little.

He got ambushed alone in the enemy jungle a few times and started blaming teammates for not supporting him.

The mood shifted. Mason’s frustration boiled over, and the team started to fracture. I tried to keep everyone focused. No luck—the bickering was relentless.

I quickly rushed to bot and fought a team battle. Although we wiped out the enemy, four of our teammates also died.

It was a pyrrhic victory. We won the fight, but at what cost? I could feel the momentum slipping away, and my stomach twisted with anxiety.

After taking dragon, I pushed mid. Ethan and Riley, who played ADC and support, kept praising my awareness and sense of rhythm.

Their encouragement kept me going. It felt good to be recognized, even if it was just for a few smart plays. I flashed them a grateful smile, determined to turn things around.

After Mason kept diving the enemy carries and getting counter-killed, the situation flipped.

The tables turned fast. Our lead evaporated, and suddenly, we were on the defensive. I tried to rally the team, but the damage was done.

The enemy took Baron and pushed into our base—only Savvy and I were left to defend.

It was do or die. I glanced at Savannah, her eyes wide with fear, and promised myself I wouldn’t let her down.

After Mason died, he started flaming teammates and tilting everyone. Now three people were already arguing.

The team chat was a dumpster fire. I muted it, focusing on the game. No way was I letting their drama distract me.

“Savvy, just stay behind me and clear the wave. Don’t step out.”

I kept my voice steady, hoping to calm her nerves. She nodded, trusting me completely. It was all the motivation I needed.

As soon as I finished, the enemy tower-dived and wiped us.

The defeat stung, but I refused to give up. Savannah respawned, only to get bullied by the enemy. I felt a surge of protectiveness, my frustration boiling over.

Seeing Savannah respawn and get bullied by the enemy? That was it. I snapped.

I slammed my fist on the desk, jaw clenched. No one messed with my girl—not on my watch.

The comments exploded.

“Wow, the tank is going wild!”

“Go, tank, go, tank, go, tank...”

“Sisters, I’m shipping them so hard, who gets it?”

With millions cheering me on, I went 1v5—me against their whole team—and somehow pulled off a comeback.

It was the stuff of legends. I could practically hear the crowd chanting my name. My heart pounded as I watched the victory screen flash, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

Because of those two losses, Mason obviously started throwing on purpose.

He sulked, refusing to cooperate, and it dragged the whole team down. I gritted my teeth, determined not to let him ruin our momentum.

In the following games, we barely hung on.

It was a grind. Every win felt hard-fought, every loss a gut punch. But through it all, Savannah stayed by my side, her faith in me unwavering.