Trapped By His Affection

Chapter 1

I urgently needed a "sidekick" to finish my final project.

Who would have thought that I'd witness the classic scene of two guys fighting over a girl?

I took a bold step forward and stopped one of the men.

"Hey, I can help you become the sidekick! You can be my research material!"

Seeing that he was unmoved, I bit my lip and sweetened the deal.

"I'll teach you everything, guarantee your success, and I'll be there for you every step of the way."

Later, he cornered me in a booth at the bar, his eyes rimmed with tears, whispering pitifully, "Leanna, where's the after-care service you promised?"

~

"Bro, you and Corynn are not a good match, understand? I've known Corynn since we were kids. No one knows her better than I do."

I hid around the corner of the stairs, peeking at the confrontation below.

I understood the situation: the childhood sweetheart couldn't compete with the sudden appearance of the male protagonist.

At this moment, the male protagonist was pinned against the wall, his face bruised, yet he stubbornly retorted, "We're already together."

I clung to the railing, glancing at the childhood sweetheart who was indeed rolling up his sleeves.

I quickly ducked back, catching my breath.

Luck was finally on my side.

This semester, I was taking a specialized course called Introduction to Film and Literature.

For my final project, I decided to study the male supporting character in real life.

Literature mirrors reality, so I planned to compare a real-life male supporting character with one from a fictional work.

I wanted to impress my professor and boost my GPA.

But finding the perfect research material was tough. After all, who would run around with "I'm the male supporting character" written on their forehead?

My project progress had come to a standstill.

"You wish!"

Downstairs, the childhood sweetheart grabbed the male protagonist by the collar, his forearm muscles tensed.

His raised fist signaled he was ready to strike.

From my years of reading novels, I could predict how the story would unfold.

After the childhood sweetheart beat up the male protagonist, the female protagonist would feel sorry for the male protagonist and gradually distance herself from the childhood sweetheart.

The childhood sweetheart would convince himself that he had known the female protagonist the longest, and everyone else was just a fleeting presence.

When the female protagonist questioned him, he couldn't express his true feelings. He would suppress himself, drinking alone in a corner, crying his heart out, and silently licking his wounds.

He would then reappear before the female protagonist with his broken self. Not only would he apologize to the male protagonist, but he would also look after the occasionally heartbroken female protagonist.

At her wedding, he would only hear, "You are truly my best friend."

He would remain unmarried for life, and on his deathbed, his only wish would be for the female protagonist's happiness.

Oh, novels coming to life!

My project was saved.

I, Leanna, was indeed the luckiest girl in the world.

Before the situation escalated further, I stood up with a flutter.

First, I pretended to shout upstairs, "No need to see me off, Professor. I'm leaving now."

Then, like a clumsy penguin, I heavily alternated my feet on the stairs.

The clattering noise was impossible to ignore.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the male protagonist, who had been slumped against the wall, suddenly dash away.

It wasn't that serious; he could have taken a few more punches.

I forgot to mention, I've always been a fan of the childhood sweetheart.

It was also because of my preference for the childhood sweetheart that I chose this project direction.

The childhood sweetheart was still in place.

He was rotating his wrist, which seemed to be scratched, with spots of blood looking quite messy.

And with his other hand, he was leisurely picking up his backpack, ready to leave.

I jogged over, "Hey, um..."

He turned around.

Wow, he looks just like the perfect childhood sweetheart!

I saw his defined collarbones and muscle lines, subtly disappearing into the skewed neckline of his sweatshirt.

His disheveled hair had been casually swept back, showcasing his well-matched features.

His exquisite and heroic tear-filled eyes still held a trace of anger at the corners, but his pupils were filled with deep affection.

"Yes?"

I quickly snapped back to reality.

It felt like a flashback to the freshman representative speech years ago, and I said confidently:

"Hey, I need your help."