Chapter 4: Barrages and Bedtime

I spent the whole afternoon sorting things out.

Emails from HR, angry voice notes from my mother, and a stack of unopened letters from the bank—all stared back at me from my desk. I half-expected one to burst into flames, such was the weight of my anxiety.

Finally, I realised the world I lived in was actually a wish-fulfilment, counterattack novel.

Sneha was the male lead, and I was the vicious supporting character doomed to do evil and end up imprisoned to death by the second female lead.

No wonder everyone who got close to Sneha was drawn to her, as if the whole world revolved around her.

Sneha’s magnetism was the stuff of office legend—peons brought her extra samosas, the CEO herself handed her keys to the top floor, and even the security guard at the gate offered her his umbrella when it rained. The world seemed to bend for her. I was just the local villain—always left standing in the drizzle.

There was just too much to process today.

After a shower that night, I checked my phone to relax—only to find a flood of hate comments.

Almost all my social media was bombarded; netizens were all siding with male lead Sneha.

Even that old tuition friend from school posted a meme about me, adding a laughing emoji. My inbox overflowed with DMs—'Serves you right, Rohan!'—somebody even tagged my old tuition teacher. Arrey, public ka memory is sharp, no?

My childhood sweetheart Meera messaged me on WhatsApp:

[Rohan, don’t think I don’t know—you’re using dirty tricks just to force me to leave Sneha and come back to you.]

[Heh, all this fuss just to see me. Fine, you win. Friday afternoon, same place.]

I didn’t reply, just blocked her and locked my phone.

My thumb hovered over her profile photo for a second, but the urge to reply fizzled out. Better to let things die quietly than fan more flames.

The barrage exploded:

[I’m not excusing him, but the male supporting character’s viciousness isn’t totally baseless. He’s a proud, privileged young master, and overnight, his parents, lover, and friends all ignore him for another girl. I’d lose it too.]

[He’s good-looking and rich—why should he always lose to the male lead who can’t even tell MS Word from Google Docs? This novel makes no sense...]

[If I were the author, I’d slap the crazy female lead once, the crazy male lead twice, then lock the vicious male supporting character and the psycho second female lead together. No leaving the basement, and they have to have eight kids. How about that?]

“...”

I looked at the screen, shaking my head. Indian Twitter was savage, but this was next level.

No, that’s not good at all.

After calming down, I was about to sleep—just took off my boxers—when the bedroom door suddenly opened.

I scrambled for my towel, cursing under my breath. From the balcony, the distant sound of someone calling out for 'Doodhwala!' floated in, making the moment even more absurd.

Priya’s gaze swept from my head to... lower.

I scrambled for my towel and threw it on.

“Sorry, you forgot to lock the door.”

Priya stared at me, dark scales faintly visible on her skin.

When a succubus gets aroused, she can’t help but reveal her true form...

In the faint yellow light, her skin shimmered oddly, but she kept her chin high. For a second, she looked less CEO and more... something wild and wounded.