Chapter 1The Audience Voted for Me to Save the Lost Prince

I’d just tossed my half-finished iced coffee cup into a trash can on the way home from school when a translucent wall of text exploded in the air right in front of me.

[What’s up with this shot? Why are they sticking to this random background extra?]

[OMG! Isn't this the opening of Chapter One from the original novel! That exact trash can!]

[Wait, did that background girl just look twice at the bin? Was that in the script?]

I froze, the strap of my heavy backpack clenched in my hand.

What… was that?

The words hung in the air, like closed captions or a video stream overlay, but clearer, with a distinct, glowing edge.

[Look, ladies! The iced coffee cup in her hand! It’s the first food Landon picks up in the book!]

[Background Sis, don’t throw it out! Twenty feet ahead, turn right into the alley—there’s a kid there who’s about to pass out from hunger!]

[That’s Landon Pierce! The real heir! His stepmom dumped him there seven years ago!]

My heart slammed against my ribs.

I whirled around. The street was empty. The after-school rush had dissipated, and there was no one speaking to me.

A hallucination?

* * *

But the words kept scrolling:

[Waaaah, Landon, my baby! Mom loves you! Please, Background Sis, go check on him!]

[According to the original plot, he gets low blood sugar tonight, ends up in the hospital, where Sylvie finds him and tricks him into signing away his inheritance.]

[Is the background actress ad-libbing? But her expression is so real…]

I wasn't an actress.

My name is Ainsley Rowe, a totally average seventeen-year-old junior at Crestview High. Mid-range grades, totally forgettable looks. The kind of person you’d never spot in a crowd.

But those comments… they were talking about me.

On pure, dizzying impulse, I retrieved the coffee cup from the trash. It wasn't dirty. I also dug out the second lunch container my mom had insisted I take from my backpack and walked toward the direction the text indicated.

My heart was beating so fast it felt like it would shatter my ribs.

Foundry Lane was worse than I imagined.

Peeled paint, puddles of foul water everywhere. The late autumn wind cut through the narrow gap between the buildings, chilling me to the bone.

In the deepest corner of the alley, a boy was crouched by a dumpster, reaching for a discarded bottle.

He was wearing a faded, gray hoodie, the hood pulled low. I could only see a pale jawline and cracked lips.

His fingers were long and slender, chapped red from the cold, yet there was a strange, almost… expensive quality to them.

“Um…”

He spun around.

His hood slipped, and I saw his eyes. They were like two pools of stagnant water, black and utterly devoid of light.

The pop-up text went wild:

[Aaaah! It’s Landon! Screenshot this! What is she waiting for?]

[My heart breaks seeing how he looks at people… Thrown out for seven years, he trusts no one.]

[Background Sis, say something! Just say you accidentally bought an extra coffee!]

I swallowed hard, holding out the items. “I… I grabbed the wrong size on my latte, too much caffeine for me. And my mom packed me a second lunch container by mistake. Would you mind helping me out? Otherwise, I’ll get an earful at home for wasting food.”

I stammered through the ridiculous lie.

He stared at me, then at the Tupperware, his Adam's apple bobbing.

[He’s struggling! He knows accepting charity is humiliating, but he’s starving!]

[He’s been hungry for two days; only found half a stale baguette yesterday.]

[Quick, tell him you’re from Crestview! Increase the credibility score!]

“I’m a junior at Crestview High,” I said, pointing to my school hoodie. “I live right up the street in the Willow Creek apartments. I’m not a bad person.”

His eyelashes trembled. “...Thank you,” he whispered, barely a sound.

When he took the container, his fingertips brushed mine. They were ice cold, like marble.

He squatted back against the wall, opened the container, and ate slowly.

He chewed every bite for a long time, as if his stomach had forgotten how to function.

The pop-ups began to flood the screen:

[First meal achievement unlocked! Bless you, Background Sis!]

[Who is this actress? She’s doing a great job; that tentative kindness is so real.]

[This wasn't in the original book! Is this an adaptation?]

[Who cares! As long as Landon gets fed!]

My throat tightened with emotion.

When he finished, I asked softly, “Um… Could I look for you again tomorrow? My mom genuinely over-packs every day. I really need help eating it all.”

He looked up, a faint ripple disturbing the dead water in his eyes.

After a long pause, he nodded.

“Okay.”