Bottom Changbin

On the night I add my new girlfriend, Celia Spencer, into my group chat with my friends, my college roommate, Kevin Wright, suddenly posts more than a dozen screenshots in the group chat. Those screenshots feature the fragments of daily life I occasionally post on my social media feed. "Now here's where things get confusing. We only earn thousands of dollars per month. Where on earth did you get your money from in order to live such a lavish life? "I've been holding my tongue for far too long. At first, I intended to protect your pride. But now that you're dating such a wonderful, beautiful, and rich woman, I don't have the heart to see her getting lied to." In the end, Kevin tags Celia in the group chat. His words are filled with regret and pain. "Ms. Spencer, you're a rich scion, so you might not know anything about the bottom feeders' tactics. A fake scion like Luke who has racked up a huge online debt and brands his social media feed to look rich is very common in society! You have to keep your eyes open, you know! Take care not to get tricked by scammers!" As I suppress my anger, I respond with, "I never stole nor robbed from others! What's wrong with me spending my own money?" Kevin quickly retaliates with a lengthy audio message. "Your own money, you say? Your net worth isn't enough to afford even one segment of that luxury wristwatch in the photo! Why are you still pretending to be rich?" I just laugh in response. Does Kevin really think that rich people don't wear cheap stuff? What he doesn't know is that Celia, the so-called rich and beautiful woman he's trying so hard to kiss up to, is actually just someone I've hired to play the part. I'm the actual scion here, whereas Celia is just a fake heiress.

My boyfriend, Percy Gaskell, suddenly flaunts an engagement ring on the Internet. He also announces that he'll get married in two months. Everyone thinks I'm the lucky bride who will get proposed soon, including myself. Anticipation fills my heart as I start making wedding preparations. But unwittingly, I end up overhearing Percy and his friends' conversation at the doorway of a private room in a bar. "I'm seriously impressed with the method you used to select your wife, Percy. You actually gave all 19 of them different scores! Those with lower scores get kicked out, whereas those with higher scores get to ascend to the next round! In the end, you choose the best wife out of all participants! "Now, the only ones left are Maisie and your beloved mistress, Sabrina. Not only that, but you're also biased toward Sabrina, so you gave her a relatively high score. Maisie is definitely losing this time! "What if Maisie finds out that she's not the one you're marrying in the end? Will she throw a hissy fit?" Percy took a sip out of his wine glass lazily. In a flippant tone, he replied, "That will have to depend on who satisfies me the most. Let me observe them for three more days. If Maisie is still that disappointing, she shouldn't blame me for being ruthless." His friends all burst into laughter. "You're far too soft-hearted, Percy! Maisie is inferior to Sabrina, be it her figure, age, or bedroom skills! I can't believe you're still giving her a chance! "If I were you, I'd have kicked her out in the first round!" Percy just smiles in amusement. "I only wish to give her a chance because I see how pathetically low her score is. If she can't even use the final chance given to her properly, she shouldn't blame me for not marrying her." I can feel my blood turn to ice in my veins. My mind has completely gone blank. All I can hear is my heartbeat, which slowly becomes louder. With a trembling hand, I dig out my phone and text that man's number, which lies at the bottom of my contact list. "Are you up for a whirlwind marriage right now?"