Chapter 1: Pinned and Exposed

Pinned beneath Caleb—wild, desperate, obsessed—the livestream chat blew up with curses and jeers.

[@AlphaFan88: Bruh, can this side character just dip already? 😒]

[@SecondLead4Life: Let the second lead sweep up the sweetheart, c’mon!]

[@PlotPolice: Trying to steal the main character’s man? Yikes.]

[@RyanStan: Good thing our boy only has eyes for Ryan.]

Confusion twisted inside me. The harsh, faceless crowd dismissed me like I was nothing—just a prop to be discarded. Their words stung more than I cared to admit.

Somewhere under the pillow, my phone buzzed, rattling against the headboard. I ignored it, focusing on Caleb’s trembling hands. The alpha clung to me, smothering me with kisses, his tears dripping onto my skin, warm and unexpected, like summer rain on hot pavement. The ceiling fan hummed above, stirring the thick air and making everything feel uncomfortably close.

Caleb’s voice cracked. “I’ll try harder, I swear.” He wiped his face on my shoulder. “Please don’t be mad, okay?”

My face was tilted toward him, his hand surprisingly gentle for someone so intense. I met Caleb’s discouraged eyes and nodded, feeling a strange mix of pity and resignation.

“It really isn’t working.”

If the live chat was right, Caleb only got turned on by the main sweetheart. No wonder, after half an hour tangled together, disappointment still haunted his face.

The room felt weighted by an awkward silence—the kind that settles after a failed attempt. The blue glow of my phone screen painted his features in an even more tragic light.

Caleb, hearing his name from the chat, looked even more miserable, tears brimming in his eyes.

He sniffled. “Babe, I’ll try harder to make it work. Please don’t be mad, okay?”

“I’m not mad. It was never meant for me in the first place.”

He flinched, hurt deepening. “It is meant for you, babe. No one but you can have it.”

Caleb looked like a kicked golden retriever, misunderstood and desperate to please. His lower lip trembled, and for a moment, I almost reached out to ruffle his hair—an old habit, like trying to comfort a sad puppy. The helpless devotion in his eyes was so raw, so American—no walls, just open need.

I laughed and kissed him. “Stop crying. I never said I didn’t want it.”

He nuzzled into my shoulder, clinging like the world was ending. “Then let’s try again, okay? I promise it’ll work this time.”

Caleb threw up a three-finger Scout salute—pinky out, like he could make the universe obey just by wishing hard enough.

We’d just sat in the waiting room at Savannah Men’s Health—tacky motivational posters, a fake fern in the corner, and a stack of wrinkled Sports Illustrateds from 2017. The doctor said nothing was wrong, but still, it wouldn’t work.

Now definitely wasn’t the time to try again, either.

According to the live chat, the main sweetheart was about to show up. After seeing Caleb and me together, he’d freeze in shock—heartbroken. Then Caleb would “snap out of it,” shove me to the floor, and tear into me to prove his innocence. When that didn’t work, he’d lose it, threaten me, and lock me in a dark little room.

The memory of its padlocked door flashed in my mind—concrete steps, a single flickering bulb, the kind of basement you’d see in a Netflix true crime doc. But in this house, it was all too real.

“Babe, let me have a little taste, okay?”

Caleb suddenly leaned in, his eyes a little glazed.

Ryan’s soft voice sounded from outside the door, and almost immediately, the knob started to turn.

Here we go.

I braced myself, heart thumping. The old wooden door creaked, letting in a strip of hallway light. “Babe, don’t pay attention to him.”

Suddenly, my eyes were covered, and a sharp pain shot through my neck.

A wave of cloying, sugary scent slammed into me—like getting hit with a bucket of melted peach ice cream. My breath caught, body trembling.

“Caleb… slower.”

But Caleb didn’t stop, his voice rough in my ear.

“Babe, whose am I?”

“What?”

My mind scattered, lost in the syrupy haze of pheromones. I stared at Caleb, dazed.

Before I could answer, a scream cut through the room.

Suddenly, everything snapped into focus.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Ryan stood in the doorway, eyes rimmed red, fists clenched at his sides. The silence stretched, thick as molasses. His thin shoulders shook, making him look fragile but stubborn.

He really was a soft, beautiful, peach-scented omega—even I felt a pang of sympathy.

He looked like the kind of kid who always sat by the window in class, sunlight catching in his hair, secrets tucked behind his gentle smile. My chest ached unexpectedly.

“Then why aren’t you leaving?”

Caleb’s gentle affection vanished, replaced by raw irritation.

Ryan froze, unable to comprehend why Caleb would kick him out.

In the original story, I was just the wrench in their love story—never the hero, always the plot device. The so-called troublemaker side character.

As for why I could marry Caleb, it was only because the two of them had a falling out. Ryan refused to marry out of spite, but didn’t want anyone else to marry him either, so he had his cheapskate dad find me from some corner of the country and bring me back to marry Caleb in his place.

So deep down, Ryan believed Caleb marrying me was just out of spite, but Caleb still liked him.

[@PeachyOmega: Oof, poor Ryan. Walked in on his man with his brother? That’s rough.]

[@SideCharHater: Side character needs to catch a bus outta town.]

[@SecondLeadStan: Why’s the second lead so wild then yelling at Ryan?]

[@AlphaDevotee: Second lead’s just crazy loyal. Wife-chasing arc incoming, mark my words.]

[@PlotDetective: Anyone blaming the second lead hasn’t watched the side character—he’s the real problem.]

The live chat was a tornado of opinions, but a single, uneasy question blinked by—quickly drowned out:

[@MetaCritic: Uh, anyone else think this plot’s off the rails?]