I was snapped walking into a villa with my sister, sparking a massive scandal that exploded to the top of the trending list. My ex-girlfriend went absolutely feral. Every time the internet sleuths dug up a photo of me and my "mystery woman," my ex would clap back by dropping a photo of us from the past. I’ve seen people deny rumors before. I’ve never seen someone try to out-scandal a scandal with their own receipts. Netizens were losing it: What is happening today? Is the Ice Queen A-Lister having a public meltdown? She kept posting, one after another, until the internet begged her to stop. Too much tea! We’re drowning! 1 My mom doesn’t have many hobbies, but she loves "designing" clothes. It just so happened that Gwen and I both had clear schedules—no shoots for me, no concerts for her—so Mom summoned us home for dinner. Since our family lives in a gated community with military-grade security, we let our guards down and drove in together. "Come here, look! I made matching family outfits for the four of us!" I stared at the garment in front of me with a grimace. A perfectly good Hermes shirt, absolutely butchered. I tried to be gentle. "Mom, embroidering a letter onto a Hermes shirt doesn't exactly count as 'designing'." My dad immediately jumped to her defense. "What do you know? This letter is the cherry on top. It elevates the whole piece. It’s avant-garde." I muttered under my breath, " pretty sure you don't put the cherry on top before you bake the cake." My dad, the ultimate wife-guy, glared at me. "Wear it. Your mother spent days stitching these. I'm putting mine on right now." He threw on the black shirt. Honestly, the man is fifty, hits the gym daily, and looks like a silver fox. He could wear a trash bag and make it look like couture. Mom looked at him with literal heart eyes. "Honey, you look so handsome! I’ll make you five more." Fine. Let the lovebirds have their moment. I held the shirt. "I'll wear it tomorrow." Gwen, seeing me dodge the bullet, quickly stashed hers away. "Me too. Tomorrow." The next morning, I tried to sneak out, but Mom and Dad were already waiting in the living room like ambush predators. "Dad, aren't you going to the office?" "I’m packing some organic fruit and veg for you guys to take back." Right. He dug up half the backyard to plant a 5,000-square-foot garden just so he could eat "farm-to-table." I pouted. "It's heavy. Let Gwen carry it." Dad lectured us while the housekeeper loaded the bags. "Take it all. Stop ordering Uber Eats. Look how skinny you two are." Mom frowned at us. "Why haven't you changed into your outfits?" Defeated, Gwen dragged two bags of produce, and we both walked out wearing the "custom" family shirts, heading back to the city. 2 I hadn't even reached my agency when the internet imploded. A rival agency had camped paparazzi outside our family home for 24 hours. They got everything. Me and Gwen, entering and leaving together. [Daily Tea V: Top Idol Ryan and A-List Pop Princess Gwen spotted entering luxury villa together! After spending the night, they emerged in COUPLE OUTFITS carrying groceries. Looks like they’ve been cohabiting for a while. Stay tuned for details.] #RyanGwenDating rocketed to #1 on Trending. When I got to the office garage, Gwen's sports car was already there. She opened my door. "Bro, the security guard took a bribe to let them in. Dad already fired him. How do we word the joint statement? I’ll follow your lead." I adjusted my sunglasses while my assistant hit the elevator button. "PR and Legal are already upstairs. Let's go." As the story fermented, Twitter became a war zone. Gwen is a top-tier idol. A dating scandal is nuclear fallout for her career. Her fanboys were ready to crucify me. The comments were universally savage. They called me a cradle-robber and shameless. They called her blind and lacking career ambition. Yeah, mostly they were just dragging me. We’ve hidden our family background since debut. I even use my mom’s maiden name for my stage persona. The easiest fix would be to drop the bomb: We’re siblings, you idiots. But that would waste years of effort keeping our private lives private. I looked at the PR team's drafts. Collaboration... Songwriting session... Just friends... I rubbed my temples. These excuses were older than the internet. I’ve never had a scandal. My team looked panic-stricken. Maybe it’s time to hire a new crisis manager. Screw it. Let's just tell the truth. "Bro, drafted. Waiting for your signal," Gwen said, hovering over the 'Send' button. "Ryan! Fiona just posted!" my assistant shrieked. I grabbed the phone. Fiona V: He flirts like a demon but won't put a ring on it. Sister, you're young, don't let him play you. Let me be the one who falls for his trap. @Gwen Game over. Chaos reignited. We had just paid a fortune to bury the hashtag, and Fiona dug it up with a backhoe. I refreshed the feed. I was now being painted as a femme fatale in a male body, ruining the nation’s sweethearts. The hate intensified. I grabbed Gwen's hand. "Don't post yet." Seeing my silence, Fiona decided to double down. And triple down. Fiona V: I didn't mean it like that. Don't misunderstand him. I was too busy with work and ignored him, so he dumped me. It’s not his fault, it’s mine. Fiona V: I’ve never even been to his house. Why does SHE get to go? Fiona V: So you like that type? Is it too late for me to debut as a pop idol? Fiona V: Which agency is hiring? I need to debut immediately. Email my assistant at xxxxxx. The timeline exploded. What day is it? Is the Ice Queen having a mental breakdown on main? Fiona’s brand was "Classy, Rational, Low-key, Professional." She had zero scandals in five years. This was the first time anyone used "Fiona" and "Love Brain" in the same sentence. Usually, when co-stars tried to ship themselves with her for clout, her team shut it down within the hour. Fans called her "The Living Dead" of romance—allergic to men. 3 Even I was confused. We fell in love on my first drama, Timeless Memories. We filmed for six months, an angst-filled romance that bled into reality. After wrapping, she confessed. I liked her too. It was simple. But then she pivoted to movies. I stayed in TV. We were both "career-first" people. Or so I thought. She’d text, I’d reply six hours later. She’d reply the next morning. Five sentences in three days. The spark faded. I never saw her. She was cold and passive, just like her characters. Eventually, I broke up with her. I missed her, sure. But not enough to beg. Her career skyrocketed. Every guy linked to her got roasted by her fans—except Damian, the only guy she didn't issue a denial about. I wanted to avoid trouble, so I stayed far away. So why was she going nuclear now? While I watched Fiona spiral, the internet detectives had already connected the dots on Gwen. Since she shares my dad’s surname, it wasn't hard. #GwenRealIdentity hit Trending. Gwen: Daughter of Real Estate Mogul Gong Hanlin. Certified Nepo Baby. Fiona V: That's it? Ever heard of the Fu family? Fu Zehua, Chairman of Mountain & Sea Group, is my dad. If you want money, I have way more than that little girl. Look at me. In one day, two secret heiresses were unmasked. [I thought Gwen being a property heiress was crazy, but Fiona just outed herself as the daughter of a multinational conglomerate chairman?! What does Ryan have? Magic pheromones?] [Is this a Cinderella story but reverse? Ryan, buy a lottery ticket, bro.] [Fiona has been a mystery for five years. She never talks about her life. Now she’s flexing her bank account to win a guy back? I’m crying.] [Retweet this Ryan for good luck in love.] The public sentiment shifted from hate to jealousy. Gwen and I were notoriously private. The netizens kept digging. They found a photo from elementary school of Gwen picking me up. In the pic, she’s waiting at the gate. I walk out, throw my backpack and blazer at her, and she just grins and carries them like a servant. The timeline melted down again. [He treats the Gong heiress like a maid?! How dare he?] [Why does he look so disdainful of her? Like she’s beneath him?] Fiona V: Childhood photos? Bitch, I have those too. She posted a photo of me at age seven or eight at a theme park, handing a balloon to a crying little girl. I squinted. I remembered that. Some kid was wailing next to me, annoying me, so I shoved my balloon at her to shut her up. That crybaby was Fiona?! 4 Then fans found a photo from Gwen’s 18th birthday gala. I was there, standing right next to her. Fiona V: You met the parents at 18? So I was just the rebound? Finally, the nail in the coffin. Gwen’s fans found a photo of us holding hands on the street. In the pic, Gwen is looking at me with pure adoration, and I’m practically collapsing into her arms. I looked at my pained expression and the bicycle in the background. That was the time I crashed my bike into a ditch! She wasn't looking at me with love; she was laughing at my misery! I sprained my ankle and she had to help me to the car. Why was I on a bike? My agency gave me the "Poor Boy" persona. I realized being "poor" meant I didn't have to compete in fashion wars or attend expensive galas. I leaned into it. Fiona V: You forced my hand! She dropped another photo. It was so spicy it crashed the image server instantly. [Sis, stop! Twitter is dying!] [Fiona, your image is shattered. Pack it up.] [Why is she acting like this today?] [Adults break down too, okay?] [Wait, were they actually dating?] The comments were getting wild. I had to stop this. I dialed the familiar number, pulling it out of the blacklist. "Hello," I whispered. "Finally decided to call?" I could hear the smirk in her voice. Knowing she was the crybaby from the park killed her goddess mystique for me completely. "Did you get hacked?" "Nope. All me. Call me later and I'll post worse." She sounded proud. I gritted my teeth. "Fiona, what do you want?" "Break up with her." "We aren't together! What gives you the right to order me around?" "I'm not ordering... I..." Her voice softened. "Unblock me on WeChat. We can negotiate." I unblocked her. Me: How much to delete the tweets? Fiona: You think I need money? Me: What do you want? Fiona: Come on a variety show with me. All this chaos for a show? Did she hit her head? She sent a poster. Let's Travel Together. Season 3. It’s a slow-paced travel show. Five days. I needed a break anyway. Me: If I go, will you stop acting crazy? Fiona: Sign the contract, I delete the tweets. Fine. Let's go.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "387270", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel