My superstar brother picked me up from work, but the paparazzi snapped a photo and claimed I was a desperate simp chasing him. To mock me, my brother posted a fake medical report online, claiming I had a terminal illness and didn't have long to live. He even asked people to Venmo him $50 to fund my funeral. Unexpectedly, in the middle of the night, my door was pounded on. Standing there, red-eyed and frantic, was the usually cold and untouchable movie god, Preston Shaw. "I’ll give you fifty million dollars. Please, just give her to me. Let me save her." My brother raised an eyebrow. "You're too late. She’s already gone." I, having just returned from a midnight snack run, stood quietly behind the movie god, holding a bag of chips. "Who’s gone?" The next second, the movie god fainted. My brother: "Crap. I forgot he's terrified of ghosts." Me: "…?" 1 When I was seven, I accidentally stepped on a famous actress's dress during a commercial shoot. The actress, known for her gentle public image, leaned down and hissed that I was finished. Since then, faced with a barrage of fake scandals and blacklists, I decided to smash the jar and go full villain. I embraced the "love-to-hate" route in Hollywood. By the time my biological brother, Chase Chen—a top-tier idol and rapper—returned from his music studies abroad, my reputation was unsalvageable. "Here's the plan," my brother, who shares my DNA, said. "We pretend we don't know each other. Don't drag me down with you." "You said you'd help me when you got back!" "There’s no fixing this, sis. Delete your account and restart. Maybe ask Mom for a third child." "?" Since then, he’s been my biggest anti-fan. If I get a papercut, he offers salt. If my foundation is cakey, he offers sandpaper. If I’m dieting, he eats a three-tier cake in front of me. End of flashback. Right now, I had just finished filming a variety show with the movie god, Preston Shaw. I was sitting in my brother’s car, admiring my makeup in the mirror. "You look happy. Did sparks fly with the movie god today?" Chase asked, driving with one hand, a lollipop in his mouth. "Physical sparks, maybe. This sweater is cheap polyester; the static electricity is insane. I zap everything I touch." "Oh?" Chase was silent for two seconds, then chuckled. "So that’s what he meant." "What?" Chase didn't answer. He just handed me his phone. The trending topics were dominated by Preston Shaw. It was the first day of recording, so that was expected. But the hashtags were… weird. I clicked on #PrestonShawSparks. It was about a tweet he had just posted. Preston, who usually speaks in monosyllables, had written a whole paragraph: @PrestonShaw_Official: I heard that when two hearts get close, sparks fly. I didn't believe it before. But after colliding thirteen times today, can we define this as destiny? "...Is he off his meds?" I stared wide-eyed. Was Preston possessed? He was notoriously cold. We hadn't exchanged more than three sentences today, and I swore he was glaring at me half the time for being in his way. Chase shook his head. "Maybe the static shocked his brain." 2 The next day, things got even weirder. #ChaseChenSecretGirlfriend #ChloeChenDesperateSimp #ChaseAndChloeCohabitation Turns out, the paparazzi caught Chase picking me up. They spun a tale about how I, Chloe Chen (the D-list villainess), was throwing myself at Chase Chen (the A-list idol), and how he eventually took me home. Me: "..." Guys, look at the names. Chloe Chen. Chase Chen. We look alike! A fool would ask if we were related! But the comments were brutal. "Don't tarnish my oppa! Chloe Chen is a stage name! Her real name is Gertrude!" Me: "...?" "No way, twenty years ago when she did that commercial, wasn't her name Mary?" Me: "...??" "Wait, I know this! I've been a hater for ten years. Her real name is Sally Ann DeOpsva, she's half-Russian!" Me: "...???" Hold on, bro, you know too much. I scrolled down, face darkening. No one got it right. Instead, they dug up the incident from twenty years ago. "Who cares what her name is? She's been a liar since she was seven." "True. I feel so bad for Lydia Quinn. She took care of that ungrateful brat, only to be backstabbed." "Lydia Quinn hasn't been active in years. Is she retired?" "I hope she comes back just to slap Chloe in the face!" Slap. I placed my phone face down on the table. Lydia Quinn. The first celebrity I ever met, and the architect of my ruin. Because of one sentence—"You're lying"—directed at a seven-year-old, I had carried a label of dishonesty for twenty years. She used my "betrayal" to gain sympathy and win her Best Actress award. Meeting her again? Honestly, I was kind of looking forward to it. Buzz buzz. My phone vibrated. A notification from Twitter. Chase had posted. @ChaseChen_Real: I can't hide it anymore. She has a terminal illness. She almost fainted on the road, so I brought her home to die in peace. She’s gone now. Venmo me $50 for a Cyber-Funeral (Deluxe Edition). Attached was a fake diagnosis report he pulled from who-knows-where. My brother is quiet only when he’s plotting evil. "Hey, you're eating my blood buns (profiting off my misery)!" I walked into the living room, rolling my eyes. "Shh, I'm fishing for a big catch." Chase typed furiously on his phone. I kicked him. "Is there food? I'm starving." "Sis, it's 1 AM. Aren't you a female celebrity? Don't you diet?" "The celebrity is dead. I'm a ghost now." I scratched my messy hair. "Forget it, I'll go buy something." The convenience store was close. I walked back with a bag of snacks and saw a tall figure standing at our door. A stalker fan? I knew living with Chase was risky. I crept closer and saw Chase leaning against the doorframe, looking bored. "...She's already taken her last breath," Chase said solemnly. Huh? I squinted and stepped forward. "Who took their last breath?" The figure spun around. Before I could see his face, he collapsed onto the floor. Thud. "Crap. I forgot he's afraid of ghosts," Chase said, looking at me. "Sis, wash your face. You look like a zombie from the night shift." "Yes, yes, your majesty." I squatted down to check the body. When I saw the face, I nearly fainted too. "Preston... Preston Shaw?!" 3 "..." "..." Silence. Finally, I broke it. "Chase, are you trafficking men now?" "I'm a legitimate businessman." "What is going on?" "I don't know! He ran to our door screaming he'd give me fifty million to hand you over. Am I the kind of brother who sells his sister?" "Holy crap, is that a Black Card in his pocket?" "Where? Where?!" I glared at him. "...Cough." Chase composed himself. "I really don't know. Ask him when he wakes up." "Okay, but why did we drag him into my bed?" "Your sheets are pink. He probably likes pink." "And you say you aren't trafficking him." "I'm straight." Chase frowned. "It's fine, I texted his agent. They'll pick him up soon. Can't believe a six-foot-two man is scared of ghosts..." I rubbed my chin. "You sound like you know him well." "Know him? I hate him. People who approach me with ulterior motives are the worst. Especially since his motive is my biggest trigger." "Then why did you—" Ding dong. The doorbell rang. Creepy at this hour. Chase stood up. "Must be his agent. I'll get it. Watch him." I rolled my eyes. Once he left, I turned back to Preston Shaw. And locked eyes with a pair of deep, ink-black pupils. Crap, when did he wake up?! I opened my mouth but found no words. Preston just stared at me, slowly reaching out a hand. I watched, frozen, as his finger reached for me. Zap. Static electricity sparked where he touched me. "..." I am throwing this sweater away. But Preston acted like he didn't feel it. He gripped my wrist, his expression tragic. "Are you really with Chase Chen?" Me: "...?" Huh? Bang! A loud slam from the front door. The next second, Chase stormed in, grabbed Preston by the collar, and hauled him up. "Why is she here?" Confusion flashed in Preston's eyes. "While I still have patience, get out of my sight." "What happened? Who was at the door?" I asked, bewildered. Preston seemed to realize what Chase meant. He looked at me with a complicated expression, then slowly stood up. "Did you step in glue? Move!" Chase snapped. Preston sighed and walked out. "What is your problem? You're so rude. I'll go see him out—" "Sit down." Chase pushed me back onto the bed. "?" I slapped his hand away. "Did the static fry your brain too?" Ignoring his dark expression, I walked out. The front door was open. Preston stood there, radiating a chill colder than Chase’s anger. I peeked around him. A woman stood in front of Chase. It was dark, but as I walked closer, our eyes met. My blood froze. ...Lydia Quinn. Even with the marks of time, her beauty was undeniable. I would never forget those eyes. She saw me. Just as she opened her mouth, the door was slammed shut in her face. Slam. Louder than before. I turned around. Chase was looking at me. "It's okay. You don't have to hold back your tears at home." 4 The next day, I arrived at the variety show recording with swollen eyes. I was late, so I tried to sneak to the edge of the lineup. But when I stopped, everyone was staring at me. Strange. Usually, I'm background decoration. I turned my head and met a pair of familiar smiling eyes. "...Chase?" My brother, who was asleep when I left, was now standing next to me, dressed to the nines. And he was holding a child's hand. Wait, a child? I widened my eyes. The kid blinked back. He looked familiar. This was my nephew, Leo! My cousin, a rapper who debuted with Chase, went off the rails after Chase went abroad. He left a trail of broken hearts and, eventually, a baby. When the mothers teamed up to cancel him, he dumped the kid on us and begged us to hide him. He shaved his head and swore to reform. I hadn't seen him or the kid since. Why was Leo here? With Chase? I looked at Chase. He winked at me repeatedly. I nodded thoughtfully and asked politely, "Did your contact lens slip, Mr. Chen?" "..." Chase rolled his eyes and looked toward a screen displaying the live comments. [Holy crap, Chase and Chloe actually have a kid?] [LOL 'contact lens slip.' Chase is winking at a brick wall.] [So the rumors are true? Cohabitation and a secret child?] [Why does that kid look familiar...] [Why is everyone focused on them? Look at Preston Shaw in the middle. His face is terrifyingly dark.] I looked back at Chase. He had the face of a man ready to sacrifice himself. Just as I was about to signal him, a tall shadow separated us. Preston Shaw, who was standing in the center position, had walked over and stood wordlessly between me and my brother. I was even more confused. The host finally recovered. "Welcome to Saturday Night Frenzy! By popular vote, we have Chase Chen as our special guest! This episode is live!" "Hello everyone, I'm Chase." "Welcome! We noticed you brought a cute little guest. Who is this?" I realized the situation. I looked at Chase, but Preston blocked my view completely. I moved left, he moved left. I moved right, he moved right. I frowned. My cousin must have dumped the kid on Chase again. We couldn't reveal his identity yet. What would Chase say? Thinking this, I saw a finger point at me. "Ask her." Me: "...?" Excuse me? The misunderstanding skyrocketed. The comments went wild. [Wow. 'Ask her.' That's basically saying 'Go ask your mother.'] [OMG... but why is Preston squeezing in there?] [Wait, wasn't there a rumor that Preston and Chase had a thing? Is Preston jealous of the sister-in-law?] I opened my mouth to explain, but Preston suddenly grabbed my nephew's other hand. With a solemn face, he announced: "The child is mine." Me: "?" Chase: "??" Comments: "???" [WHAT?] [Preston, wait. Yours and WHOSE?] [Mom, the fanfiction is coming true.] [So the rumor about Preston and Chase having a secret love child in London is real?] Chase's brain clearly short-circuited. The host, a professional, laughed nervously. "Haha! What a joke! Let's start the games!"
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