the novel i was never meant to rewrite

There were two things I loved most in this world. Coffee. And fictional men. As for coffee, I could still control myself. As for fictional men... Well, I made no promises. “Adrian, you're an idiot.” I stared seriously at my laptop screen, as if the man inside the novel could actually hear me. “It's obvious she doesn't love you. Why are you still chasing her?” I sighed heavily. On the screen, the final chapter of the novel I'd been reading almost every night was still open. The title was The Man She Never Loved. The most frustrating romance novel I'd ever read. And also... My favorite. Strange, right? I didn't understand how a story that made me want to scream at least five times a chapter could become the novel I loved the most. But there was one reason. Adrian Blackwood. He was the male lead of the story. He was rich. Extremely rich. Not the kind of riches where someone owned a big house and a few expensive cars. No. Adrian was the kind of man who could lose several million dollars and probably only say, “Oh.” Then go back to work. His family owned one of the largest corporations in the country. As the only heir to the Blackwood family, Adrian was handsome, tall, intelligent, cold, and... Unfortunately stupid when it came to love. Especially when it came to one particular woman. Clara Rose. I rolled my eyes. “Clara again.” I read the last few lines on the screen. Adrian had just confessed his feelings to Clara. And as usual... Clara rejected him. Again. I slammed my laptop shut. “I HATE HER!” The room immediately fell silent. I stared at my laptop. Then I looked around. There was no one there. I sighed in relief. Good. If someone had seen me just now, they probably would've thought I'd finally lost my mind. Although... Arguing with a fictional character was perfectly normal. At least, that's what I told myself. I opened my laptop again. I knew I should stop reading. It was almost two in the morning. I have work tomorrow. But there was one major problem. I'd already read this novel three times. And every time I reached this part, I still hoped the ending would somehow change. Even though I knew exactly how it ended. I knew everything. I know how Adrian married Clara. I found out they got married because of a contract. I knew Clara didn't love Adrian. I knew Adrian would spend years trying to turn their fake marriage into something real. I knew Clara would continue loving another man. I knew Adrian would get hurt. And most importantly... I knew how everything ended. Adrian died. I bit my lip. Every time I remembered that part, my chest tightened. “Why did you have to die?” I stared at the illustration of Adrian on the page. A man in a black suit, dark hair, and cold gray eyes. In the illustration, he looked like someone who had never experienced defeat. But I knew the truth. Adrian had lost one battle. Love. He gave Clara everything. His time. His loyalty. His protection. Even his pride. And what did he get in return? Nothing. I groaned. “If I were you, I would've left in chapter five.” I pointed at the screen. “She rejected you three times, Adrian.” I pointed again. “Five times.” I scrolled down. “Eight times.” Another scroll. “Good Lord. Twelve times?” I stared at the screen in disbelief. “Bro, where did your self-respect go?” I laughed to myself. For some reason, the more I read this novel, the more I felt like I knew Adrian. I knew his favorite food. I knew he hated overly sweet things. I knew he didn't like crowded places. I knew he often worked until late at night. I knew he secretly liked the rain. I even found out one tiny habit he had whenever he was nervous. He tapped his fingers against the table three times. Tap. Tap. Tap. That little detail wasn't even important to the plot. But somehow, I remembered it. I remembered everything. Maybe because I'd become too immersed in the story. Or maybe because... I simply liked Adrian too much. I smiled faintly. “At least you deserve someone who actually loves you.” I leaned back in my chair. Then a strange thought suddenly crossed my mind. What if I could change the story? I laughed. “Crazy.” Of course, it was impossible. It was just a novel. There was no way I could enter the story. And even if I could... I definitely wouldn't choose to become Clara. Absolutely not. I would choose a side character. A maid? Sure. A neighbor? Fine. Heck, I'd even be Adrian's pet cat if I had to. As long as I didn't become Clara. I shook my head. “If I were Clara, I'd divorce Adrian immediately.” I paused. Then thought about it for a moment. “No.” I smiled. “Maybe I wouldn't divorce him.” I leaned closer to the screen. “I'd fall in love with him instead.” Of course. Who wouldn't? Adrian was rich. Handsome. Loyal. And if this novel were actually real... I snorted. “Unfortunately, he's just a fictional character.” I continued reading. One page. Two pages. Three pages. Until finally, I reached the last chapter. The chapter I hated the most. Its title was: The Last Goodbye. I swallowed. I'd read this part before. But it still hurt. Every single time. I read the lines slowly. Adrian was injured. Clara arrived too late. Adrian smiled one last time. And before he died, he told her that he had never regretted loving her. I closed my eyes. “Idiot.” My eyes began to sting. “You're such an idiot.” A tear slipped down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away. “I hate this ending.” I stared at the screen angrily. “The author is cruel.” I opened the comment section. Hundreds of readers were arguing. Clara is the worst female lead ever. Adrian deserved better. Why did the author kill Adrian?! I hate this ending! I nodded proudly. “See?” I pointed at the comments. “It's not just me.” I read a few more comments. Then one caught my attention. If someone entered the novel, would they be able to save Adrian? I froze. For some reason, that simple sentence sent a strange shiver down my spine. I stared at the screen. Then I laughed softly. “If someone really could...” I leaned back. “I'd definitely save him.” Of course, it was just a silly thought. I yawned. It was far too late. I closed my laptop and stood up. My head felt heavy. Maybe I'd spent too long staring at the screen. I walked toward my bed, still thinking about the novel. Before going to sleep, I glanced back at my laptop. The novel's cover was still visible on the screen. Adrian stood there. Cold. Handsome. Lonely. I smiled. “Good night, Adrian.” I turned off the laptop. “I hope in your next life, you find a woman who truly loves you.” I lay down. Pulled the blanket up to my chest. Five minutes passed. I still couldn't sleep. Ten minutes. Still nothing. I opened my eyes. “Why do I feel like I just said goodbye to someone?” I shook my head. “I'm ridiculous.” I closed my eyes again. And finally... I fell asleep. --------- I don't know how long I'd been sleeping. All I knew was that when I opened my eyes... The first thing I saw wasn't the ceiling of my bedroom. It wasn't the white walls. It wasn't my bedside lamp. It wasn't even my phone lying beside my pillow. Instead... I was staring at a white ceiling decorated with a huge crystal chandelier. I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. “Huh?” I sat up. My head was pounding. I looked around. The room was enormous. Far too enormous. There was a king-sized bed. A massive wooden wardrobe. Long cream-colored curtains. A sofa. A vanity table. And on top of the table... A vase filled with white roses. I stared. “This... isn't my room.” I got out of bed. My bare feet touched the cold marble floor. I walked toward a large mirror in the corner of the room. And when I saw my reflection... I froze. A woman was staring back at me. Long brown hair. Pale skin. Large eyes. A beautiful face I had never seen before. I raised my hand. The woman in the mirror raised hers too. I pinched my cheek. “Ow!” That hurt. I pinched it again. Harder. “Ow!” Still hurt. I stared at the mirror in panic. “No.” I took a step backward. “No way.” I looked at the white dress I was wearing. I looked at the luxurious room. I looked at the unfamiliar face in the mirror. Then a name appeared in my mind. Not a name I recognized. Not my name. But I knew it. I knew it very well. Because I'd read it hundreds of times. Clara. Clara Rose. My hands began to tremble. “No way...” I took another step backward. My breathing became uneven. “Don't tell me...” I stared at the woman in the mirror. “...I entered the novel?” Silence. There was no answer. I laughed nervously. “Ha... ha.” Maybe I was still dreaming. Yes. That had to be it. I was dreaming. I closed my eyes tightly. “Wake up.” Nothing happened. “Wake up.” I pinched my arm. It hurt. “Wake up!” I shouted. The bedroom door suddenly opened. A young maid rushed inside with a worried expression. “Miss Clara! Are you all right?” I froze. The maid stared at me. I stared back. Then she spoke again. “Miss Clara, Master Adrian will arrive in less than an hour.” My heart stopped. Adrian. He was coming. I swallowed. “Adrian...?” The maid nodded. “Yes, Miss. Your fiancé is coming.” I stood completely still. Fiancé? Adrian? I looked at the mirror again. Clara Rose. I had really become Clara Rose. The woman I hated most in the novel. The woman who would break Adrian's heart. And now... I was going to meet a man who had existed only inside the pages of a book. I pressed a hand against my chest. My heart was pounding wildly. “Oh my God...” I almost cried. Not because I was scared. Not because I was sad. But because one thought suddenly entered my mind. If I really was inside this novel... Then I knew the future. I knew everything that would happen. I knew Adrian would get hurt. I knew he would die. And I knew exactly who would be responsible. I looked at Clara's reflection in the mirror. Slowly, a smile appeared on my lips. “Well then...” I clenched my fists. “This time, the story is going to be different.” I wouldn't let Adrian die. I wouldn't let Clara destroy him. And I definitely wouldn't marry him just because of some stupid contract. I would change everything. Or at least... That's what I thought at the time. Because there was one thing I didn't know yet. The moment I met Adrian Blackwood... Every single plan I had would begin to fall apart. And the man I'd always believed was nothing more than a fictional character... Had been waiting for me long before I ever opened the first page of his story. To be continued...