Chapter 1

The day I transmigrated into the spineless male lead of a bitter drama, heroine Olivia Sinclair pinned me against the wall, forcing me to listen to the excuses of her first love, Matthew Grant.

According to the original plot, I was supposed to stand there red-eyed, refusing to hear a word.

Instead, I clamped a hand over her mouth. "Shut up. You listen to me."

Later, when she came chasing after me, begging for reconciliation, I pinned her right back against that very same wall.

I leaned in and murmured low by her ear, "Now it's my turn to turn a deaf ear to your excuses."

*****

Pain was the first thing I felt when I came to. The throbbing in the back of my head from slamming into the wall hadn't faded, my vision was swimming, and someone had their arm locked across my chest, holding me tight against the wall.

Wait, the wall?

I blinked, and things finally started to come into focus.

Right before me was a striking face with sharp eyes and lips pressed into a thin line, staring down at me with an air of complete dominance.

She wore a tailored black trench coat, her arm pressed so hard against my chest, it felt like my spine was nailed to the icy wall.

"Andrew, can you try to act your age?" Her voice was cold, sharp as an icy blade. "Let him finish."

Who was I supposed to let finish?

I instinctively glanced in the direction she was looking.

A few steps away stood a man in a crisp white shirt and gold-rimmed glasses, looking gentle, almost elegant. He watched me with a mix of guilt and restraint, hesitating to speak, like he was the victim here.

"Andrew," he finally said, his voice low and smooth, "Olivia and I, it's really not what you think."

Olivia?

Andrew?

Andrew Lewis!

My brain blew up.

Put those three names together, and it was basically my worst nightmare come true.

I was a web novel editor. I'd been in the game for five years, and I'd probably slogged through at least eight thousand love-hate romance stories.

And Andrew Lewis was the male lead from last year's viral tearjerker, Love's Bitter End. He was the ultimate doormat, the saddest tool character ever.

He got tortured from start to finish, and in the end, he was still out there blessing the female lead and her so-called soulmate. Talk about peak misery.

The very first chapter kicked off with Olivia cornering her first love, Matthew, in an alley, trying to hash things out, only for Andrew to stumble right into the scene.

Without a second thought, Olivia pinned Andrew to the wall and basically forced him to listen to Matthew explain himself.

In the original, Andrew's eyes were all red. He was shaking his head desperately, voice hoarse as he kept yelling, "I don't want to hear it!" And Olivia gave him the coldest look and snapped, "Andrew, can you try to act your age?"

When I was editing that part, my blood pressure soared.

And now I was that pathetic male lead, pinned to the wall, the idiot yelling, "I don't want to hear it!"

I stood there for a few seconds, letting it all sink in.

The good news was that I transmigrated.

The bad news was that I ended up as the ultimate doormat in a viral love-hate romance.

Even worse, I was right in the middle of the scene that always made my blood pressure skyrocket.

Matthew was still there, trying to explain himself. "Andrew, I know you've got it all wrong, but Olivia and I ran into each other by chance. She said she needed to talk, so I agreed to meet her."

No one in their right mind would believe that.

Middle of the night? Just the two of them, and they ran into each other? And they needed to "talk" in some sketchy alley? Seriously, what kind of conversation needed this kind of setup?

In the original, Andrew would have his eyes all red, shaking his head like crazy. But that was not me.

I dropped my gaze to the arm pinning me to the wall.

Olivia stood at the pinnacle of the entertainment industry, wealthy and utterly domineering. In the original story, she barely looked at Andrew, treating him like a disposable pawn, using him when it was convenient, and tossing him aside when it wasn't.

Matthew, her childhood friend and first love, was always the one she truly cared about. They broke up over some dumb misunderstanding, but once that was cleared up, of course, they got back together.

And Andrew? He was Olivia's stand-in fiancé, a tool to make Matthew jealous. Once Matthew returned, Andrew was supposed to quietly bow out and let the main couple have their picture-perfect romance.

Seriously, what kind of bullshit setup was this?