When You Know A TV Show Has Bad Writing?

I'm Melody Cameron and I'm every man’s worst nightmare, I say this because I’ve been called that by many men. I’m not only smart and educated, I’m a real beauty and no I’m not conceited, I have eyes and am confident in my own skin. At the age of 16, I was crushed beyond words, cried until I ran out of tears, then became angry at the world, until finally my best friend told me what had happened. I had been taken, by one of the most popular, eligible and attractive werewolves in her pack, “this is what he does and I’m sorry it happened to you Mel, you didn’t deserve that,” she said through her own tears as she hugged me. It was that day I realized one thing I would never fall for another man, he could own the world and promise it to me, and I’d still walk away from him. Yup, that’s me now, Miss Wrong, I will never be any man’s Miss Wright, never again. I’m strictly a one and done girl here, no seconds, no matter how many times you make me see God, it’s not happening. I became a nurse, yes, it's a glorious job and in a world with supernaturals it has it's challenges, like werewolves can heal themselves, witches have no need for human's period, etc.. So when the Alpha was in my ER room and I hit the code button, because all his monitors screamed to life the second, I walked in, I was fired. Getting the Alpha's attention, not good for a human and now I'm convinced he is set on ruining my life, because his ego is obviously bigger than his dick. I have jokes.

Opening my eyes in an unfamiliar place with unknown faces surrounding me, everything started there. I have to start from the beginning again, because I am no longer Ayla Navarez and the world I am currently in, was completely different from the world of my past life. Rumi Penelope Lee. The cannon fodder of this world inside the novel I read as Ayla, in the past. The character who only have her beautiful face as the only ' plus ' point in the novel, and the one who died instead of the female lead of the said novel. She fell inlove with the male lead and created troubles on the way. Because she started loving the male lead, her pitiful life led to met her end. Death. Because she's stupid. Literally, stupid. A fool in everything. Love, studies, and all. The only thing she knew of, was to eat and sleep, then love the male lead while creating troubles the next day. Even if she's rich and beautiful, her halo as a cannon fodder won't be able to win against the halo of the heroine. That's why I've decided. Let's ruin the plot. Because who cares about following it, when I, Ayla Navarez, who became Rumi Penelope Lee overnight, would die in the end without even reaching the end of the story? Inside this cliché novel, let's continue living without falling inlove, shall we?

I'm reading a book about a boy who bullies a girl, but they end up in love? Screw that; if it were me, I'd ruin the plot.

My mafia boyfriend, Finn, is always bickering with his childhood friend, Amanda. For my birthday, she brought me a bullet vibe. "Here. For round two, just in case. I know his stamina better than anyone." He tossed a bottle of pale foundation at her. "Slap some more on. Maybe then someone will actually want to touch you." They shoved each other on their way out, slamming the door behind them. The candles on the cake burned down to nothing while I sat alone at the dining table. The first time our families sat down for a formal dinner, she smiled and slipped him a small bottle of lube. "Take it. So you don't make the poor girl suffer." His face darkened. "Better than you crying at night, hugging a body pillow." This time, Finn had arranged a private island vacation. A mutual friend quietly gave me a heads-up, telling me he was planning to propose on a cliff at sunset. After a seven-year marathon, I told myself this was it. The finish line was finally in sight. I dressed meticulously, putting on my most expensive dress, and walked toward the helipad. I pulled open the helicopter door. Amanda was already in the co-pilot's seat. She raised an eyebrow at me. "Chloe, you're here? I'm claustrophobic, so you don't mind if I sit up front, right?" Finn, gripping the controls, turned to look me over. "Chloe, you sit in the back. I'm worried she'll have a meltdown and start scratching and biting. It'll ruin the mood." Before I could say a word, Amanda was already arguing with him. "What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm a burden?" "It's not the first time I've thought so. Why are you being so dramatic today?" Their back and forth was so practiced it felt like a script they had rehearsed a thousand times. In that moment, the exhaustion of the past seven years washed over me. And for the first time, I realized I didn't want to say yes to his proposal anymore.

The real heiress, Alicia Grant, gets reunited with the Grant family and is scheduled to marry Cory Dawson, who's supposed to be my fiance. On the very same day, I, the vile fake heiress, get kicked out of my home. When I'm about to take my own life out of despair, I go through an awakening all of a sudden. It turns out that I'm just a vicious supporting character in a sappy romance novel whose tragic fate is already penned by the author. After I die, Alicia decides to adopt my daughter out of "kindness", only to let her get bullied from a young age. In the end, my poor daughter dies tragically in an alley. I throw the knife away immediately. With stumbling steps, I whisk my daughter into my arms and quickly immigrate elsewhere. As a supporting character, my life is already filled with misfortune. I mustn't let my daughter go down the same path as well. Initially, I thought I wouldn't see the Grants anymore. Unexpectedly, when I step into Carmont five years later, I end up bumping into them again.

My father, Terence Locke, is covered in mud. He grabs my shoulders desperately, and his eyes are bloodshot. He says, "Emma, my company has gone bankrupt, and I accidentally killed a business rival. You have to run away with me." I believe him. Suppressing my fear, I follow him deep into the untouched mountains. To find food for him, I eat bugs and drink dirty water. When a pack of wolves closes in on our cave, my first instinct is to stand in front of him. "Dad, I'll lure them away. Run!" I look back at him one last time before finally making up my mind to trade my life for his. But after I leap off a seemingly bottomless cliff and fall to a pulp on the rocks below, I somehow "see" him inside a slowly descending helicopter. He is popping a bottle of champagne in celebration. At that moment, I finally understand everything. The whole desperate escape over the past few days that ultimately pushes me to sacrifice my life is nothing more than a reality show staged by him. He is merely putting on a performance, while I am truly dead...