Chapter 1
The classroom was too quiet.
Not the peaceful kind of quiet, but the suffocating kind, the kind that pressed against your chest and made every second feel heavier than the last. Pens scratched against paper, chairs creaked softly, and somewhere in the back, someone coughed.
And Allison… sat frozen.
Her answer sheet stared back at her like an accusation. Blank spaces. Half-answered questions. Words she should have known but couldn't remember. Her fingers tightened around her pen.
I read this… I know I read this…
But what she remembered instead wasn't anatomy diagrams or pharmacology notes. It was scenes—dramatic confessions, cold mafia bosses, soft female leads, betrayal, obsession.
Novels. Dramas. Everything except what actually mattered.
A quiet sigh slipped from her lips as she scribbled something. anything. just to avoid leaving the page empty. Deep down, she already knew.
This test?
She had failed.
"Time's up."
The lecturer's voice cut cleanly through the room. Papers shuffled, chairs scraped, students began to stand. Allison didn't move immediately. She stared at her script for a second longer before slowly rising to her feet, walking forward, and handing it in like she was surrendering something.
Maybe her pride.
Maybe her future.
Outside, the air felt different...too loud, too bright, too real.
Students gathered in small groups, their voices overlapping.
"How was it?"
"That question was so hard!"
"I think I passed...barely."
Allison didn't join them. She already knew her answer.
She failed.
Not because she wasn't smart… but because she hadn't tried hard enough.
Her grip tightened around her bag as she walked past them, her steps slow and heavy.
You did this to yourself.
She stepped out through the school gate, the noise fading slightly behind her. For a moment, she just stood there. Then, almost out of habit, she reached into her bag and pulled out her phone.
Her escape.
A small, tired smile touched her lips as she plugged in her earphones.
"If I'm already failing…" she muttered softly, "…one episode won't hurt."
The screen lit up—paused on a mafia romance drama. Dark lighting. A cold male lead. A crying, obsessive villainess clinging to him.
Allison tapped play.
"Don't leave me…"
The villainess's voice trembled through her earphones, desperate and broken.
"I love you! I gave up everything for you!"
On screen, the mafia boss didn't even look at her. cold, detached, unmoved.
"I never asked you to."
Allison let out a small scoff as she walked. "See? That's your problem," she murmured. "Too desperate."
The villainess fell to her knees, crying harder, clinging, losing everything.
Allison shook her head slightly. "If it were me, I'd just run."
She didn't notice the world around her anymore. Didn't notice the sudden shift in noise, the rising tension in the air, or the aggressive honking cutting through the street.
"Hey!!!"
"WATCH OUT!"
"MOVE...!"
Her eyes stayed on the screen.
The villainess was crying harder now.
Pathetic.
Allison sighed softly. "I would never..."
A deafening horn blasted.
Too close. Too loud. Too late.
Her head snapped up.
A massive truck.
Right in front of her.
Everything slowed.
The phone slipped from her hand. Her breath caught. Her body froze.
Oh…
Impact.
Darkness.
Silence.
…Then—
Pain?
No.
Softness.
Warmth.
Allison's eyes fluttered open, disoriented. The first thing she saw was a ceiling.
Not the sky.
Not the road.
A ceiling.
Elegant. Expensive. Completely unfamiliar.
Her brows furrowed slightly. "…What?" Her voice came out weak, her body heavy...like it didn't belong to her.
Slowly, she turned her head.
The room was luxurious. Too luxurious. Silk curtains framed tall windows, gold accents gleamed under soft lighting, and a chandelier hung above her like something out of a dream.
Her heart started to pound.
This isn't a hospital.
Then—
Memories.
Not hers.
Flooded in.
A girl. beautiful, obsessed, crying, begging. A mafia boss who never loved her. A tragic ending. Death.
Allison's eyes widened as her breathing turned uneven.
"No…"
Her voice trembled. "No way…"
Her hands shot up to her face.
Different. Softer. Smaller.
Her heart dropped.
"…You're joking."
A shaky whisper escaped her lips, disbelief laced through every word.
"…I'm the villainess?"
And somewhere deep in her mind, the last scene she had watched replayed, the one where the villainess died.
Allison sat up abruptly, panic flooding her veins. "No, no, no..."
Her breathing quickened.
"If I follow the story… I die."
Silence filled the room, heavy and real.
Then slowly… very slowly… her expression changed.
From panic…
to something sharper.
"…Yeah," she whispered.
"…not happening."
Her fingers tightened against the bedsheets. Her eyes steadied. Her mind raced.
"I'm not staying here to die."
And just like that...
The story had already begun to change.
