Chapter 1Breaking the Cliche Romance Script

I'm the designated "poor kid" in my class. That part's true.

But I'm on federal student loans, and I have a work-study job. Not only do I have enough to cover my expenses, but I can even put a little aside each month.

Jessica, my roommate, had just been elected class president when she proposed a class-wide fundraiser for me.

“Daniella is the only student in our class facing financial hardship. It’s our duty to extend a helping hand!” Her announcement left our classmates stunned. A bitter taste filled my mouth.

Just as I was about to refuse, a few strange lines of text flickered in front of my eyes:

[Classic plot point incoming! The kind-hearted female lead tries to help, only to be misunderstood by the insecure side character. A big fight is about to break out!]

[Once it blows up, the gentle heroine will be all teary-eyed and heartbroken, and that’s the cue for the hot, domineering male lead to swoop in and save the day!]

[I am so ready for the romance to start! C’mon, side character, have your meltdown already!]

* * *

I blinked, completely baffled.

What kind of brain-dead garbage was this?

If I didn't want it, I'd just say no. There was no need for a dramatic scene.

But the moment the word "No" left my lips, Jessica cut me off.

“Daniella, I know you have your pride! But you can’t let it get in the way of your life. You’re coming back right at curfew every single night. You’re spending less than fifteen dollars a day on food. Your underwear is washed so thin it’s practically see-through, and your pajamas have holes in them… You can’t go on like this. It’s bound to affect your studies, and that will drag down the entire class’s average. So, for everyone's sake, from now on, we’re covering your living expenses.”

As she spoke, she pulled out a crisp twenty-dollar bill and shoved it into my hand. “Take it. You don’t have to pay it back! Just focus on your studies!”

But even after stuffing the money into my palm, she didn't let go.

She held me in that awkward position, her eyes wide with expectation. The other students started sizing me up, their whispers turning into gasps.

“Coming back so late every night… is that even a legit part-time job?”

“Seriously? Fifteen bucks wouldn't even cover my lunch. She must be scamming the cafeteria or something.”

“People still wear clothes with holes in them? You don't think she's doing it for attention, do you?”

I almost laughed out of sheer anger. We’d known each other for a few weeks, and she was already airing all my private business to the entire class. And for what? A measly twenty bucks? She was seriously holding onto my hand, expecting me to burst into grateful tears for her little performance?

And what was wrong with these other students? Were they stupid or just blind?

Just as a string of curses was about to erupt from my mouth, the comments popped up again.

[The heroine has done so much! Why isn't the side character flipping out yet? If she doesn't make a scene, when will the male lead make his grand entrance?]

[What’s wrong with her? Someone gives you money and you can't even say thank you? No wonder she gets ostracized by everyone later, becomes depressed, and jumps off a building.]

[Serves her right! If she wasn't so ungrateful, the heroine wouldn't have been so hurt. But hey, it gives the male lead a chance to comfort her. At least she's useful for heating up their romance!]

The insults I was about to hurl died on my tongue.

As crazy as those comments sounded, I was only eighteen. My life was just beginning, and I had no intention of dying.

So, I took a deep breath, yanked my hand free from Jessica’s grip, and pushed the twenty-dollar bill back at her.

“Thanks, Jessica. But I don’t need it.”

Her face fell instantly. “I told you, you don’t have to pay it back! This is easier money than whatever you’re doing. Stop penny-pinching and walking around in rags. It’s embarrassing for us to even be seen with you!”

Someone else chimed in. “Yeah, seriously. Don’t make us all look bad. Here, I'll chip in fifteen to cover your meals for a day!”

“I’ve got five! We can crowdfund you some new underwear!”

A few crumpled bills fluttered through the air, landing at my feet.

The comments went wild.

The screen was flooded with a single demand: [FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!]

But in the midst of the chaos, a strange calm washed over me.

After all, arguing with idiots only hurts yourself.

So, I called for backup.