The Comments Crowned Me the Drama King

"Honey, the soles of my shoes are made of sheepskin. I can't get them wet, so come pick me up right away." Just as I send a WhatsApp message to my wife, Cora Harden, a barrage of floating comments explodes in front of me in the downpour. "I really can't stand a high-maintenance second male lead like Allen Brandt. Cora, the female lead, is a billionaire CEO, and yet she lets him boss her around like a lapdog." "The male lead has already joined the company. Once Cora sees how sweet and thoughtful he is, she's dumping that loser Allen for good." "This is hilarious. After the divorce, Allen can't do anything, so he'll end up as some cheap thirst-trap live streamer." Staring at the screen of venomous insults, I clench my fists in anger. Just then, Cora arrives with an umbrella, half of her bespoke dress soaked from the rain. Noticing my whitened knuckles, she pauses for a moment, then timidly tugs at my sleeve. "Sorry, darling. If I had driven any faster, I would have been speeding." Chapter 1 The floating comments were still scrolling madly above my head. "Just thinking that even a drama king second male lead like Allen can end up marrying Cora makes me feel indignant on the male lead's behalf." "Once Cora gets together with the male lead, she'll know what true love is." "The more Allen acts up now, the harder he's going to fall later. I feel so satisfied just imagining it." True love? Where was the male lead when I was living in the basement with Cora, splitting a single bread roll into two meals? When I sold the house my mother, Lauren Webster, left me to help Cora get through her crisis, where was the male lead then? Now that Cora had become a billionaire CEO, what gave the male lead the right to swoop in and reap the rewards? "Darling, why are your hands so cold?" Cora asked cautiously. She looked down, her brow furrowing as she gently rubbed my hands. But as I looked at her beautiful face, only one thought filled my mind—she was going to force me into becoming a cheap thirst-trap live streamer for someone else's sake. I pulled my hand back. "I'm not going home. Take me to the office." Cora paused for a moment. "What made you want to go to the office today?" "I'll wait for you to get off work so we can go home together." She smiled, her eyes crinkling. "Okay." Once we arrived at the office, her secretary, Shannon Shaffer, came over to hurry Cora along to a meeting. "Darling, go wait for me in my office first. I'll be back soon," Cora said, then hurried off. I went to the top floor alone. The moment I pushed open the office door, I spotted a bag of oranges sitting on the desk. They were golden-orange and flawless in appearance, each one individually wrapped. One glance was enough to tell that they were expensive. Just as I reached out to take one, the floating comments instantly exploded through the air. "Back off, Allen! The male lead bought these for Cora—they're ten dollars each!" "The male lead normally only ever eats cheap food himself, yet he bought such expensive oranges for Cora. He really does love her." "The male lead's love is the real thing, while Allen only knows how to take." Ten dollars for a single orange? The male lead sure was generous with his spending. I turned and went to the work area, holding up one of the oranges. "Who bought these oranges?" A young man with a perm timidly stood up. He had delicate, handsome features, and his eyes were nervous and hesitant, making him look like a startled fawn. "I-I did," he answered in a small voice. "Mr. Brandt, if you don't like them, I'll take them back to my grandmother. She never lets herself indulge in stuff like this." Everyone's expressions shifted immediately, turning reproachful as their gazes fell on me. It was as if they were saying, "He means well, so why are you throwing your weight around?" Instead of getting angry, I held up the orange and smiled. "You misunderstood. These oranges are delicious. They're ten dollars each, after all." All eyes in the room shifted again. This time, they glanced toward the young man with a hint of knowing speculation. The young man's face flushed bright red. He was just about to explain himself, but I didn't give him the chance. "You've all been working hard lately. I had someone order these oranges—each of you can pick up a box from the front desk after work." The work area instantly erupted with excitement. "Thank you, Mr. Brandt!" "Mr. Brandt, you're too generous!" The young man's smile froze, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the hem of his shirt. Chapter 2 The floating comments came again. "Tsk, Allen's trying to buy people's loyalty with Cora's money." "What can Allen do besides spend money? Once Cora realizes how good the male lead is, Allen's gloating days are numbered." "Exactly. The male lead will be Cora's man sooner or later, so what is Allen so smug about?" I looked at the young man and asked, "What's your name?" "P-Preston Blackburn." I nodded and turned back to the office. Not long after, Cora returned from her meeting. She pushed the door open with a smile. "Darling, just now you—" "Fire Preston." Her smile froze for an instant. "What?" "I said, fire Preston." Cora frowned. "All because of a bag of oranges? He meant well—" "He has designs on you." Cora paused for a few seconds, then laughed and stepped closer, reaching for my hand. "You're overthinking it. He's just a young guy fresh out of college, and his work is outstanding. In fact, he's closed several major deals for the marketing department." "I don't care about your company's business," I said, pulling my hand back. "But I don't like him." Cora sighed, her tone softening. "Darling, don't be like this. The company has its rules. I can't just fire a talented employee based on your gut feeling. What would people say if word got out?" "Cora's defending Preston! That's so sweet of her!" "Look how frustrated Allen is! Man, it's so satisfying." "This is only the beginning. Later, when Allen tries to frame Preston, Cora will have him locked up in a psychiatric hospital." Psychiatric hospital? It felt as if someone had seized my heart, squeezing it so hard that I couldn't breathe. I looked at Cora. There was still tenderness, patience, and coaxing gentleness in her eyes. Little did she know that the floating comments had already told me how it would all end. I closed my eyes and forced my surging emotions down. "Then don't fire him." Cora breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you for understand—" "But you have to transfer all your assets to me." The office fell silent, and Cora's expression froze completely. "Allen, we're at the office." Her voice dropped low. "Don't be unreasonable." I looked at her and said nothing. Her phone rang. She answered and exchanged a few words, then hung up. "I have a business dinner tonight," she said to me. "I'll have the driver take you home first." She turned and left without waiting for my answer. Her footsteps were hurried, as if she were fleeing. "Haha, Allen's getting all sad." "Serves him right. He actually wanted all the assets? Like Cora would even entertain that." "Later, when Cora and Preston get together, she hands over full financial control to him. It's clear as day who she values more." I didn't know how I got home. By the time I snapped out of it, I was already sitting in front of the computer in the study. The floating comments said that after the divorce, I wouldn't be able to do anything, so I'd end up as some cheap thirst-trap live streamer. What a joke! I clicked open a folder. Inside were all the photos I had taken, along with several award certificates from photography magazines. I scrolled through them one by one, my gaze stopping on the final piece. It was a portrait of Cora composed of countless photos of the two of us together. Every photograph held a memory. Only the spot over the heart was left empty, meant for a photo of the northern lights. Back in college, we had promised to see the northern lights together. Cora said they symbolized eternal love. But ten years had passed, and we still hadn't made the trip. I opened a job search website and began filling out my résumé. I entered every award I'd won and attached the link to my portfolio. Then, I clicked submit. The next day, I began picking up the skills I had once left to fall by the wayside. It started with making breakfast. I lit the stove and poured in the oil. The beaten egg hit the pan, sending grease splattering everywhere. Chapter 3 A drop of hot oil splashed onto the back of my hand, stinging so sharply that I hissed through my teeth. Cora rushed downstairs and grabbed my hand, then held it under the running tap. "Who told you to do this?" she asked. The floating comments appeared again. "The drama king is at it again. Who's he trying to fool with this independent man act?" "Does Allen really think this will make Cora feel sorry for him?" "As if. Cora's just going to think he's being ridiculous." Cora pressed me onto the couch and gently applied ointment to my hand. "Are you still upset?" I remained quiet. "There's really nothing going on between Preston and me. If it bothers you that much, I'll have HR transfer him to a branch office in another city." The comments instantly exploded. "No! If Preston gets transferred, how will their romance develop?" "Don't worry, they're destined for each other. Even if he's transferred, they'll meet again." "Cora will belong to Preston sooner or later. Allen might as well save himself the trouble." "No, that won't be necessary. It's up to you how you handle your affairs," I replied. Cora looked at me, wanting to say something but holding back. In the end, she told me to sit still, then went to clean up the mess in the kitchen and finish making the rest of breakfast. While we ate, my phone buzzed. It was an interview invitation from Canopus Media, the talent management company I'd been dreaming of getting into ever since graduation. They worked exclusively with top-tier A-list celebrities, and among them was my idol, Faye Merrill. After I tapped to accept the invitation, I couldn't help but smile. Cora was instantly on guard. "Who are you texting?" "It's an interview invitation. I want to go back to work." Elated, I dug in with gusto. Cora opened her mouth but ultimately said nothing. I guessed she didn't want to spoil the mood. After breakfast, Cora left for work. I changed out of my haute couture clothes and into my familiar T-shirt and casual pants. The interview went fairly smoothly. But a big company like Canopus Media would require at least a second or third round before making a decision. In the days that followed, Cora seemed increasingly busy, returning home at ever-later hours. At times, there was a faint trace of perfume on her that couldn't quite be washed away. I knew Preston hadn't been transferred away. But since I was already prepared for us to go our separate ways, I resolved to focus on the path ahead of me. On my first day of work, my supervisor was a woman in her 40s—Rochelle Fischer. Not only was she capable, but she was also efficient. "Allen, I've seen your work. Your compositions are very creative." "Thank you, Rochelle." "Newcomers start with outdoor shoots. Can you handle tough conditions?" "Yup." My early days in the company were grueling. Outdoor shoots meant braving the wind and sun and hauling equipment all over the city. By the end of the week, my face had darkened a shade, and the straps had worn two red marks into my shoulders. But I loved it. The moment the lens focused, the whole world went quiet. There was nothing but light, shadow, and the thing I wanted to capture. One day, just as I turned off my camera and sat down in the shade of a tree, I received a WhatsApp message from Cora. "Darling, I have a business dinner tonight, so don't wait up for dinner. And don't push yourself too hard—you've got me." Just as I began typing a reply, the floating comments started buzzing again. "Cora's learning to lie for Preston's sake." "She told Allen it's a business dinner, but she's actually helping Preston move and setting up their little love nest together." "Cora looks so beautiful when she cooks! What a down-to-earth couple they are. They're so perfect together!" Cora cooking? She had never cooked for me. Back when we first got together, she was dirt poor. I felt sorry for her, so I insisted on doing the cooking. Later, when she got rich and hired a housekeeper, there was even less need for her to lift a finger. And yet, she was personally cooking for Preston right now. My eyes suddenly stung a little. I put down my phone without replying to her message. It was nearly midnight when Cora finally came home. I lay on my side in bed with my eyes closed. She walked in and bent down to kiss my forehead. But I smelled that same perfume again. I turned over and evaded her touch. "Darling, what's the matter?" "I'm tired, so I'm going to sleep now." Chapter 4 Cora was silent for a long time. "…Alright then. Good night." When I woke up the next morning, there was a document on the nightstand. It was a notarized property transfer agreement, and Cora had already signed it. The comments went crazy. "Holy crap! Cora really gave Allen all her assets?" "Chill. She can recover them through legal means. A notarized marital property transfer can be revoked upon divorce." "She must've spent too much time with Preston lately and was afraid Allen would kick up a fuss, so she's just using this to placate him." I nearly got emotional for a second. After putting the document back down, I opened my WhatsApp to message my lawyer friend, Fred Springer. "Please draft up a divorce agreement for me. Split the assets according to marriage laws." That day, Rochelle called me into her office. "Allen, there's a big contract, and the client specifically asked for you." "Who's the client?" "Faye Merrill." I froze for a moment, thinking I had misheard. "R-really?" Rochelle tossed the contract to me with a smile. "Yup. She looked through your portfolio and specifically asked you for the shoot." I flipped open the contract with trembling hands. I'd been a fan of Faye since middle school. In college, I scrimped and saved to buy tickets to her concert and ended up fainting from hunger in the classroom, which made me the laughingstock of the entire campus. When Cora found out, she blew up at me for the first time. "Have you lost your mind? What's so great about her that you'd risk your life for her?" Later, when Cora became a billionaire CEO, she had several business dealings with Faye. Yet, she never once got me so much as a signed photo. After leaving the office, my first instinct was to share the good news with Cora. But then I remembered how she'd acted back then, and my finger hovered over the screen, frozen. In the end, I sent her a message anyway. "I'll be away on business for about a week." It took her over ten minutes to reply. "Okay. Don't tough it out on your own. You have me." The words "you have me" struck me as a little ironic. After all, she would soon belong to someone else. The shoot location was at the beach. I arrived at 4:00 am to set up the equipment, adjust the parameters, and test the light. The wind was strong, and the sand stung a bit as it hit my face. But that was the last thing on my mind, for my heart had been racing since the night before and hadn't stopped. At 7:00 am sharp, a black minivan pulled up. Faye stepped out of the minivan. She was wearing a white T-shirt and black casual pants. Her hair, barely styled, fell loosely across her forehead. She looked almost the same as she had on stage ten years ago. No, something had changed. She was thinner than back then, her jawline sharper, and her eyes held something more. It was the mark of time having worn its way through her. "Hello, Allen," she greeted me, extending her hand. I shook it, my palm a little sweaty. "Hello." "I've seen your work. Your composition is bold, and your use of light and shadow is excellent. So, I specifically asked Rochelle for you." She smiled briefly. "I hope that hasn't put any pressure on you." "Not at all." I took a deep breath. "I'll do my best." After brief pleasantries, we got to work. Faye was a natural in front of the camera. She had such strong instincts that I hardly had to guide her at all. I crouched on the sand, searching for angles. Even though the sun was scorching my back, I was in a surprisingly good mood. During a break, my phone buzzed. Fred had sent the divorce agreement. "Are you really going through with it?" he asked. I stared at the document, thinking of the unfamiliar scent of perfume on Cora and the "down-to-earth couple" comment. "Yeah," I replied. Rather than wait for Cora to kick me out, I might as well take advantage of whatever guilt she still had and secure some money for retirement. On the third day of the shoot, I was adjusting the parameters when the floating comments suddenly flooded in. "Oh my god! Cora and Preston went to the Gobeki Desert! The northern lights are so beautiful!" Chapter 5 "The temperature in the Gobeki Desert is minus four degrees Fahrenheit. Cora was afraid Preston would be cold, so she took off her own coat and draped it over him. God, they're so sweet together!" "Holy crap! This is the scene from the novel where Cora and Preston pledge their love for each other!" "Hurry up and kiss already!" The camera in my hand suddenly dropped to the ground. "Allen? Are you okay?" Faye walked over. "Y-yeah, I'm fine." I crouched down to pick up the camera. My fingers trembled so badly that it took two tries to grasp it. Cora had promised to take me to see the northern lights. Back in college, she held my hand and said, "Allen, once I'm rich, we'll go see the northern lights. They symbolize eternal love." I waited for her for ten years, and yet now she had taken another man instead. "Allen, you look terrible." Faye bent down to look at me. "Are you having a heatstroke?" "Maybe…" Faye had her assistant bring over a Gatorade and handed it to me. "Why don't you head back to the hotel and get some rest first? We can continue the shoot tomorrow." I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. With my mind all over the place, nothing I captured would have any soul to it. "Sorry for holding up the schedule." "Don't worry about it. Your health comes first." Back at the hotel, I sat numbly on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The air conditioner hummed, blending with the beat of my heart. Suddenly, I found the whole thing laughable. I had already decided we would go our separate ways, so why did I still care about that promise? I tapped on Cora's chat window on WhatsApp and sent her the divorce agreement. "If there are no issues, let's sign it when I get back." I thought Cora would call me immediately or at least ask why, but she didn't. An hour passed, and still she hadn't replied. A little past 9:00 am, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to see Faye standing outside with a glass of smoothie in hand. "Are you feeling better?" she asked, handing me the smoothie. "Much better, thank you. I'll definitely make up for the lost time tomorrow." She paused, then said, "There's something I'd like to ask you. Next month is my parents' golden wedding anniversary, and I was hoping you could take some photos for them. Do you think you can squeeze it in your schedule? I'll pay triple your usual rate." I blinked. "You want me?" "Yes. There's real warmth to your photos." "Thank you. I'd be honored." "So, would you like to grab a bite together? My parents happen to be nearby right now. We could sit down and discuss the style of the shoot." "Sure, let me change my clothes." After seeing Faye off, I picked up my phone and took a look. Cora still hadn't replied. I changed my clothes and went to the restaurant we had agreed on. Faye and her parents, Bruce Merrill and Jennifer Grant, were already there. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Merrill." "Have a seat. Don't be shy." Mrs. Merrill took my hand and looked me up and down. "Young man, you're really quite handsome." "Thank you, Mrs. Merrill." Sitting across from me, Faye smiled at me and mouthed silently, "Don't be nervous." I returned the smile. Mrs. Merrill held my hand and chatted at length. She told me stories about her and Mr. Merrill when they were young, how they met, and how they made it all the way to this day. "My husband and I have been married for 50 years." She patted my hand. "Allen, I'm counting on you for these photos." "Don't worry, Mrs. Merrill. I'll make sure they turn out beautifully." Just then, the door to the private room suddenly swung open. Everyone turned to look. Cora stood in the doorway. She looked travel-worn, the makeup around her eyes smudged with sweat. She glanced at Faye, then at her parents, and finally her gaze landed on me. Her eyes reddened. "You're divorcing me for her?" she asked in a trembling voice. "And you've already met her parents?"