As an average e-book author, Milan Monroe spends hours writing outlines and brainstorming the best possible outcomes, tragic endings, and plot twists that could keep her readers captivated. For several months, though, Milan had stopped writing. Writer's block has been stepping all over her confidence, brain cells, and life.

She spent countless hours lying around in bed staring up at the ceiling, holing up inside her apartment, avoiding social events, eating junk food while watching old and new episodes on TV shows, and quite frankly ignoring the fact that she needed to update. The pressure was just too much for her shoulders to bear, but she couldn't bear to break the truth to her readers.

So, she has been ignoring them as she has been ignoring her books.

Milan picked up her phone and entered the reading platform she has been using to publish her stories. Upon reading her readers' scolding comments, Milan couldn't take it anymore. Tossing the phone back onto the sofa, she decided to take out the trash.

While walking outside to take out the trash, she noticed she will be getting a new neighbor. Movers were moving in a ton of boxes. There were a lot of noises. Milan jumped over an unopened box and tiptoed between two boxes before skipping down the stairs.

Halfway down, Milan heard something slam and shattered. It startled her, and she tripped over her feet. She attempted to grab for the rail, but she was too late. Her fingertips grazed the rail as she spun and fell down the steps.

Pain shot all over her body. Her vision blurred as she saw a figure run down the steps towards her. She blinked several times, but darkness took over her vision and she fell into a deep abyss.

When she woke up, it was to someone crying.

Milan's eyes snapped open. Bright light blurred her vision, and she snapped her eyes shut again. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes again.

She saw a pair of black heels first before she saw a gray pencil skirt and then a beautiful woman sobbing on the ground with her hand on her face.

"Lana!" a striking, manly voice roared.

She blinked, frozen. Still trying to gain reason why she was standing in the middle of an office room. A muscular hand grabbed her wrist and shoved her back. Milan felt pain shoot through her arm. Unable to hold her balance, she stumbled all the way back until her back hit a hard edge.

"What the actual fuck?" she shouted and turned her attention to the culprit who had pushed her.

For a moment, she forgot she was upset because god almighty, he was the finest species alive. How on earth was this 6 foot tall, anything but godly? His obsidian hair slick back into a pomade style, enhancing a perfect, chiseled jawline and cheekbone. Then the startling blue eyes...how?

"Did you hear what the fuck I said?" he roared.

Milan blinked. Was he talking to her?

"You are talking to me?" She pointed at herself.

The young woman was still sobbing on the marble floor. This picture looked familiar to Milan. She just couldn't pinpoint where she had seen this before. Was it from a movie?

The Godly man walked over to Milan and shook by the shoulders. Her head might as well roll off, since it was about to snap at his jerky movement.

This motherfucker...

She stomped on his feet.

His beautiful blue eyes widened in surprise.

That's right. You didn't see that coming, did you?

Then a piece of overlooked information sunk in. This man had called her Lana. Other pieces fell into place. Her eyes zeroed in on her surroundings. It was the exact description in her progress book for her villain. Milan's gaze snapped to the man.

"M-Maxwell?" she stuttered in complete disbelief.

His eyebrows furrowed at her confusion. She pushed him to the side and looked behind him. The crying woman on the floor had straight brown hair and dark gray eyes.

"Nora?" I blurted.

She sniffled, but turned to look at Milan.

"Oh, no. I'm done for." Milan pushed the large body in front of me away and began hyperventilating.

This was some unrealistic, supernatural, mother-fucking bullshit. I'm done for.

Milan slapped her face hard and winced at the sting. That's real.

"Stop fucking around, Lana. I'm tired of your bullshit. Get the fuck out of here. I don't want to see you right now," Maxwell demanded behind me.

Milan spun on her feet to glare at him, but her eyes landed on the mirror behind her. Running on heels, she clutched the side of the mirrors before touching her face.

"That's me."

Maxwell looked at me and the mirror.

Fuck, that's me—but not me.

Milan was dressed in a red bodycon dress that clung to her every curve. Her skin looked like it had gone through many facial treatments. It was unreal. This kind of beauty needs to be untouched and for a moment, Milan felt awful for slapping herself.

Maxwell moved to pick up Nora. When Milan caught sight of them in the mirror, she turned around to look at them.

She had written Maxwell as the villain. His obsession with Nora caused him to kidnap, rape, and murder. To make matters worse, Maxwell was engaged to Lana, but Lana didn't want Maxwell. She wanted Erik Cromwell. This led straight to her tragic death by jumping off a building.

Oh no.

She needed to untangle these plots and change her fate. There was no way in hell Milan was going to go through all that suffering and hatred. But where does she start?

"I have to go," she whispered, wide-eyed.

Maxwell and Nora stopped to look at her. She must look like a madman, but first thing first, she needed to get away from these people.

She ran for the door.

"Where are you going?" Maxwell questioned.

This bad boy-slash-mother-fucking-psychopath will be first on my list of avoiding at all cost.

"I'm running as far away as I can, because, baby, there ain't no chance I'll be anywhere near this motherfucking plot." With a nod of my head towards them, I turned with determination and walked out of the office.

But as Milan ran, she returned to the office door again. She did this several times. Finally, she huffed and propped her hands on the waist.

"Fine! There is no running away from the plot!" Milan shouted in frustration.

The Book Gods were punishing her. The irony of her running away from updating her chapters and now she couldn't even run from own plot.

You want me to be a domineering, obsessive bitch? Fine. I'll be a crazy bitch.

Pinching her lips together, she swung the door open and stood in the doorway with what she hoped was as domineering as possible.

Maxwell had Nora pinned onto the sofa. From the first aid kit on the coffee table, he must have been trying to clean her injuries. They both stopped to look at Milan in surprise.

Fuck me.

Milan stomped over and shoved Maxwell off Nora. Grabbing Nora by her shirt, she pulled her up to eye level.

"Stay the fuck away from Erik. He's mine."

Milan grimaced at the bad dialogue and plot. She should really go back to reality and go seek a psychologist. Her head wasn't screwed on straight.

"He doesn't like me."

Milan raised her hand to slap Nora, but couldn't bear to slap her. She jerked her arm back to her side before awkwardly standing back up. She cleared her throat and crossed her arms.

"That's good to hear. I hope you keep to your promise or else. Now get out. I don't want to see you."

Nora scurried out of the office. Milan huffed and collapsed onto the sofa. This wasn't easy at all for her. Then she recalled she wasn't alone.

Maxwell jumped on her. She released a loud cry of surprise before pushing further into the sofa. She placed her hands on his chest.

"L-let's talk like normal adults." She gave him a forced smile.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You're not Lana."

Did he know?

"W-what?! That's—that's preposterous. If I am not Lana, then who am I?" I stuttered and sputtered.

Maxwell's eyes narrowed. She gave an awkward laugh before placing a finger on his forehead. She pushed him away from her. He leaned back on the sofa and adjusted his suit jacket.

"You like Erik?" he asked.

Milan hasn't met the character yet, but if Maxwell looked like this—damn, Erik be on fire. A small smile appeared on her face.

"Ok, that answers my question," Maxwell said.

"Don't start with me. We should really talk to you about Nora."

"What about her?" he growled.

Milan snorted and pointed her finger accusingly. "See! Let me guess."

She crossed her arms and legs. She sat with her back straight and chin up.

"I don't need you to tell me what you like about her, because I know exactly why you like her. She's your typical good girl. There is absolutely nothing wrong with her. Everything about her is almost perfect. Her kind and compassionate personality, or maybe it is her innate virtuous characteristic. Let's not begin how she looks when she's in distress. Her pouty lips and wide eyes- "

Maxwell slapped a hand over Milan's mouth, and she glared in his direction. She shoved his hand away and stood up.

"Let's work together."

Milan stopped and glanced in his direction. He wanted to work on breaking the main protagonist up. But that's not how the story should go. In fact, they should both avoid the main protagonists to stay alive.

What if...

She dropped onto the sofa next to him. Her eyes traveled up and down his body. If she was a smart woman, she'll not make the extra effort to obtain what she knows she'll never have. Instead, why not try to change the mind of something she already has?

That being her fiancé—Maxwell St. James.

But she doesn't really need to let him know that. In fact, she could pretend to cooperate to control the plot, but also save her own life. A small smile crept onto her face and she nodded her in agreement.

"Deal."

He reached out to shake her hand.