From Faking Love to Real Heartbreak
That’s right, I transmigrated into a book—into the supporting actress of a standard sweet-pet romance.
Ending up inside a novel I can live with. I was an orphan in a parallel world anyway, no attachments, no strings.
The June rain came fast and hard, drumming against the ground. The school gate was packed, people crowding together, all craning their necks to watch a confession.
I skirted around the crowd and headed back to the classroom. First, I had zero interest in this kind of thing. Second, I could already predict how those two would end—putting on such a high-profile show, they were either fearless or brainless.
Then I saw the girl standing under the umbrella.
Her tender skin was so fair it practically glowed. The school uniform did nothing to hide the graceful lines of her young body. Her smooth, oval face lit up with a pure, clean smile.
A flush stained her cheeks pink as her slender fingers covered the corners of the boy’s lips, which were lifted in a grin.
He tilted the umbrella toward her, a doting smile playing on his mouth, the affection in his eyes enough to brighten the whole gray, rain-blurred world.
He wrapped an arm around her and, standing in the rain before everyone, declared his claim in a loud voice, “Luna Sterling, you’re mine.”
I halted mid-step and immediately reacted—well, shit, if that wasn’t the male and female leads.
According to the novel’s setting, the male lead is a rich, powerful school tyrant; the female lead is a soft, innocent, straight‑A good girl. Both of them are campus legends.
Textbook romance plot: the male lead falls for the heroine at first sight, then chases her relentlessly, throwing every trick he’s got at her.