—SPLASH!
The world snapped back into focus—not with the blaring horn of the truck or the cold rain, but with the shocking chill of water hitting skin.
~Blink-Blink~
One moment, I was staring into blinding white headlights. The next, I was squinting under the sterile glare of office lights, my hand clutching an empty glass.
Water dripped from the face of the woman standing before me—a face so delicate it could have been mistaken for a doll.
"Did I die...?" The whisper escaped my lips, thin and unfamiliar.
My vision cleared, the scene locking into a horrifying, impossible clarity. The drenched woman. The secretary's uniform I'd seen her wear for half the series. The office setting I knew by heart.
It was her.
Lee Yoon-Ah. The Lee Yoon-Ah. I couldn't believe it. "I-Is this a dream—?" I couldn't even finish my thought before a voice, sharp as a blade, cut through the office and made me jolt.
"Austra Law! What is the meaning of this?!"
I spun around. There he was. His dark hair was perfectly tousled, his suit tailored to fit his broad shoulders, and those cold, commanding grey eyes were locked on me, burning with fury.
"Han Eun Woo...? Wha—"
"Enough!" he snapped, his voice echoing. "How could you do something so vile to another person?"
He stormed towards me, and I stumbled back, my mind blank with panic. He didn't even look at me as he passed, instead shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it gently over Lee Yoon-Ah's trembling shoulders.
'This scene...'
Of course I remembered it. I'd watched it ten times. This was the iconic moment—the first time the CEO showed his classic Prince Charming side, protecting the female lead.
"This... this can't be happening..." My head was a swirling mess. I couldn't make sense of any of it. My eyes darted around the room, and my blood ran cold.
The side characters, the ones I recognized from every office rumor scene, were all here, staring. Judging.
I turned back just in time to see CEO Han gently brushing a wet strand of hair from Lee Yoon-ah's face. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
And I remembered... those lines. Weren't they supposed to be followed by her lines? The villainess's haughty retort?
'This has to be a dream! Am I in a coma? Did I get some kind of Make-A-Wish to be on the set of [Love at First Spreadsheet]? But... I don't see any cameras... Is this a prank?!' My mind raced, scrambling for any logical explanation and finding none.
—PINCH.
"Ouch!" I'd pinched my own cheek, hard. The sharp sting made my eyes water, and the sound snapped the attention of everyone in the room—including the two leads—directly back to me.
A helpless giggle bubbled up from my throat. "Heh... hehehe..." It grew, spilling out into full-blown, unhinged hysterical laughter that echoed in the stunned silence. The employees stared at me as if I'd finally, truly lost my mind.
Tears of mirth and sheer panic streamed down my face. "I... I have finally lost it, haven't I? But..." I looked at the employees, their whispers dying the second my eyes met theirs.
Then my gaze shifted to the leads—Han Eun Woo, still shielding a trembling Lee Yoon-Ah, both staring at me as if I were a bomb that had failed to detonate. "Why does this feel so real?"
The weight of their stares was a physical pressure. The chill of the air conditioning. The lingering sting on my cheek from the pinch. The faint, expensive scent of Han Eun Woo's cologne. It was all too vivid, too textured to be a dream.
The script in my head had shattered. There was no line for this. No stage direction for the villainess having a complete existential crisis in the middle of the office. So, I broke the scene entirely.
Without another word, I turned on my heel. My movements felt robotic, disconnected from my swirling thoughts. I walked past the gawking employees, past the water cooler and straight towards the large glass doors of the office.
A stunned silence followed me. It was broken only by Han Eun Woo's voice, laced with a confusion that mirrored my own. "Austra? Where do you think you're going?"
I didn't answer. I didn't even look back. I just pushed the door open and stepped out into the hallway, leaving the chaotic, impossible scene behind me.
The last thing I heard was Lee Yoon-Ah's soft, bewildered whisper.
"Sir... what was that?"
* * *
The vending machine clunked, dispensing a bitter-looking coffee can. I snatched it, cracked it open, and drank. The harsh, caffeinated jolt was a welcome shock to my system, cutting through the dazed fog in my head.
Needing proof, I looked up at the reflective glass of the machine.
A woman stared back.
She had a striking, almost cruel beauty—full lips, a sharply defined nose, and a cascade of dark, wine-red hair styled in a way that was messy yet undeniably chic. But it was the eyes that held me captive: a deep, unsettling green, wide with the same shock and terror I felt inside.
I knew that face. I'd cursed it, mocked it, fast-forwarded through its scenes.
It was the face of the woman I despised most, the one whose very name felt like a personal insult whenever I saw it in the credits—a name unfortunately, infuriatingly, identical to my own.
Austra Law.
The villainess fiancée. The one standing between my beloved OTP. And now, my reflection.
Before the sheer impossibility of it could fully crush me, the universe answered. A searing, white-hot pain exploded behind my eyes. My vision swam, and my knees buckled as a flood of memories—vivid, intense, and utterly foreign—crashed into my mind.
They weren't mine. They were hers. When my head finally cleared and my breathing steadied, the last of my denial evaporated. There was no other explanation.
"I'm really inside my favorite K-drama, aren't I?" I whispered to the coffee can, the bitter taste still on my tongue.
A calm, weathered voice cut through the silence. "Miss Law, what are you doing out here?"
I turned. And there he was. Butler Kim. The character I'd respected and adored almost as much as the leads themselves. The loyal butler to Austra Law... and now, apparently, to me.
He approached, his suit impeccably framing a tall, dignified posture that hinted at the handsome man he must have been in his youth.
He looked at me, and a familiar, fatherly smile softened his features—the very same smile he'd always reserved for the villainess in the show.
"Oh! Ugh... I was just..." I stammered, my mind scrambling for an excuse.
"The car is waiting for you, Young Miss," he said, his voice a gentle but firm reminder of my new reality. "The Madam and Chairman are waiting for you at home." He finished with a respectful bow.
A wave of panic washed over me. Seeing this kind, elderly man bow to me felt profoundly wrong.
"Oh, please don't!" I blurted out, the words escaping before I could stop them, my hand twitching as if to reach out and stop him.
He gave me a strange, lingering look before gesturing gracefully towards the lobby's main exit. "Th-this way, Miss," he said, a hint of confusion in his own usually unflappable tone, before leading the way.
I followed close behind, my eyes drinking in the lobby. It was strange yet intimately familiar—the gleaming marble floors, the soaring ceilings, the specific modern-art sculpture in the center—all details I'd seen a dozen times on my screen.
As we walked, a wave of employees and security guards parted before us, bowing deeply as we passed. My fangirl instincts short-circuited. On autopilot, I found myself bowing right back, a nervous, jerky motion.
I caught their stunned expressions—wide eyes and barely concealed whispers. They were clearly dumbfounded. 'Join the club,' I thought miserably. I had no idea what I was doing either.
We finally emerged outside, and my breath hitched. Parked under the portico wasn't just a car; it was a statement. A long, obsidian-black sedan gleamed under the city lights, its silhouette sleek and imposing. Two stern-faced security guards stood like statues at attention in front of it.
"Wow," I whispered, the word escaping before I could stop it.
Butler Kim, ever perceptive, opened the rear door with a silent, efficient motion. As I moved to get in, I fumbled, unsure of the etiquette.
With a subtle, almost imperceptible shift, he guided me with a gentle hand on my elbow, ensuring I didn't bump my head—a small act of chivalry the original Austra would have taken for granted, but one that felt profoundly kind to me.
The door closed with a solid, expensive thud, sealing me in a cocoon of silent, leather-scented luxury. The engine purred to life, a vibration so quiet it was more felt than heard.
As the car pulled away from the curb, I stared through the tinted window, watching the Han Group headquarters—the epicenter of my beloved drama—shrink behind me.
My reflection, that of a beautiful, haunted stranger, superimposed itself over the passing city, and the terrifying, thrilling reality of my situation finally settled in my bones.
The gentle purr of the car engine was the only thing keeping me from completely spiraling. My mind, finally catching up from the initial shock, started connecting the terrifying dots.
'Okay, think, Austra, think! Butler Kim said we're going to meet the Madam and Chairman... which, in this messed-up context, must mean my "parents."
The original Austra's ridiculously rich and awful parents. And if my memory is right after the iconic water-splash scene... the timeline...'
A specific memory flashed in my mind—My blood ran cold. "Oh, no..." A tiny, horrified gasp escaped my lips before I could stop it.
This wasn't just a cameo appearance in my favorite drama; I was being shoved onto the main stage for the worst subplot imaginable!
I jerked in the plush leather seat, my whole body turning toward the calm, elderly man beside me. "Butler Kim!" I blurted out, my voice an octave too high.
He turned his head, his demeanor as unshakably serene as ever. "Yes, Young Miss?"
I searched his face, my eyes probably wide and wild with a silent scream. I was pleading with him, with the universe, with anyone who would listen to tell me I had my fangirl facts wrong.
"Why..." I started, my voice trembling. "Why did my parents want to see me again?"
He held my desperate gaze for a long moment, and I saw something flicker in his wise old eyes—not surprise at my question, but something sadder. Something like pity.
He spoke softly, but each word landed like a hammer.
"They have just made your marriage contract, Young Miss. They're going to finalize the engagement with CEO Han like you wanted."