So, this is the story of a cold hearted boy and a simple loving girl. They were classmates. Friends. Lovers. And finally, enemies?

She loved him with all her heart. He felt nothing in his heart. She was heartbroken. He felt dislike. He wanted her to go away, but he kept going back to her. She would drop everything for him, and then suffer the heartbreak all over when he left. They had been happy a year, and unhappy five years after.

In the end, she got married to a man who loved her despite her scars, and found true happiness.

She was married a whole year when he found out. He reached out to her several times, but she only ignored him. He finally got what he wanted. She went away. But all he felt was endless guilt and bottomless emptiness.

The story titled, A Thorny Love Story, was a hundred chapters of melodrama, sorrow and tears. Vy would never admit it out loud to anyone, but he was one of the tens of thousands of subscribers to the story. When he started reading, the story was twenty three chapters long. He remained a loyal reader to the very end. Truth be told, he shed many tears. And he actually felt sympathy for the cold hearted protagonist who was actually the villain of the story.

Maybe that was why this happened.

Vy woke up feeling strange. Nothing seemed out of place and yet everything felt different. He was in a single bed, in a small room. Under a thin blanket with stripes in the all colours of the rainbow. The phone by his pillow, and his hand resting on it.

Was he waiting for a message?

He pulled the phone up to his face. The screen opened to the inbox. There was no new message. The last message was one he sent to Li, a little after midnight.

— I like you. Can we go out, like on a date?

She didn't reply.

It was 7 in the morning. It was the holidays. He had nothing to do, but mourn over last night. Not just the fact that he sent the message but also that she didn't reply. Was that a no? Was it a maybe? Just what was it? Was he supposed to feel so pathetic?

This was where, the fact that Vy loved the story came into effect. Because he was able to recognise the scene almost too easily. It was from early in the story.

And it struck him.

He was in the story. He was the cold hearted villain. Li was the gentle female lead.

He knew what came next. She wouldn't reply to the message. Not through the rest of the holidays. When the new semester began, the very first day, she called him out to tell him she wasn't pleased. She wouldn't want to speak with him in person or through messages. She didn't want to look his way. She didn't want to do anything with him. Because she only saw him as a friend. And more importantly, she was home when he sent the message. And her uncle had seen it. She hated that he put her in an embarrassing situation where she had to explain herself to her family and they weren't convinced. It would be two whole months before she would speak to him again.

"I'll be damned," he swore.

He would have preferred choicer expletives. But, whatever. All of it was a bit much to take in. But why was it so easy for him? So easy to accept that the story was somehow his now? So easy to be considering what to do next?

Wasn't it already set in ink?

"No," he told himself. "I'm Vy. But I'm also me. This might be Purple_Ink_711's story. But this is me. And it will be my story now. And I know exactly what this story needs. Some joy and laughter."

He lay in bed. With his eyes closed. And began thinking up a plan.

What he felt for Li was too damn complicated. At the end of the story, she found her happiness. Doesn't that mean it was what she deserved? Since this was a do-over of the story, he'd make it his responsibility to get her to that happiness easier and earlier, without the suffering and the heartbreak. That would surely make for a different, and maybe even a nicer, story.

Grinning happily, he returned to sleep. And the phone lay unneeded by the pillow.