Playing the Villainess, He Fell for Me

With that, she tried to slip away. But before she could take a single step, Simon Lockwood spoke, enunciating each word, “Joanna. Kennedy.”

Joanna Kennedy: “…”

Joanna Kennedy turned back around, resigned. “What? I didn’t know he was the one who washed them. He just said that on purpose, and you fell for it and got mad at me…”

“I got mad at you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“…”

Simon Lockwood hadn’t even said a word and was already saddled with an accusation. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression softening a little. “Do you really dislike spinach stalks that much?”

“…They’re okay, I guess.”

Joanna Kennedy didn’t actually hate spinach stalks. She was just used to getting takeout, and the greens in takeout were usually rapeseed greens or bok choy, rarely spinach. As a result, she was a little unaccustomed to the texture.

“If you don’t like them, you can give them to me,” Simon Lockwood said. “Throwing them out is too wasteful.”

“You’re not angry anymore?” Joanna Kennedy asked him.

“Angry about what?”

No emotion could be discerned in Simon Lockwood’s tone, but the straight line of his lips betrayed his inner thoughts. Joanna Kennedy chuckled. “Right. You’re not angry.”

Her voice was bright and clear as she hit the nail on the head. “You’re jealous.”

Joanna Kennedy had realized that Simon Lockwood didn’t truly hate Liam Valentine. If Simon really detested someone, how could he possibly say something like, “You can come tomorrow”?

Simon Lockwood was more wary of Liam Valentine, the kind of wariness that comes from being once bitten, twice shy.

“…” Simon Lockwood turned his head away, the tips of his exposed ears a little red. “No, I’m not.”

“Really? Not at all?”

“…No.”

Joanna Kennedy shrugged as if to say she believed him, but now Simon Lockwood was unsatisfied. His voice tense, he said abruptly, “Joanna Kennedy, he can’t cook as well as I can.”

“These are the potatoes he shredded.” Simon Lockwood gestured for Joanna Kennedy to look at the cutting board. “He doesn’t even know how to chop vegetables. His grip on the knife is wrong, he can’t wash vegetables properly, and he certainly can’t cook.”

Joanna Kennedy looked at the few “potato sticks” lying haphazardly on the cutting board and fell silent. “…What’s your point?”

“He’s nothing like me,” Simon Lockwood said, his voice clear and firm.

Joanna Kennedy: “…”

‘The stereotype is getting stronger. Simon Lockwood really is petty. It was such an old comment, so much time has passed, we’ve even crossed worlds—how can he still remember my words so clearly?!’

Joanna Kennedy could hardly believe the kinds of things Simon Lockwood must have jotted down in his little black book.

Joanna Kennedy heaved a deep sigh, feeling as if she had aged several years and tasted the weariness of the world. “Simon Lockwood, Mr. Lockwood, Brother Lockwood, can we please drop this…?”

“You’re the best. You’re handsome and amazing. Of all the trades in the world, you’re a master of them all. How could Liam Valentine ever compare to you? You’re miles ahead of him.”

This messy barrage of praise was very effective. Simon Lockwood’s tense expression relaxed slightly, and the corners of his lips curved into a tiny, almost imperceptible arc.

Joanna Kennedy was emotionally exhausted. ‘If only it were possible, I’d go back in time, think before I act, and engage my brain before speaking.’

Perhaps Joanna Kennedy’s words had worked. The rest of the meal was relatively harmonious—and even if it was only a surface-level harmony, that was still no small feat.

A table of people: a couple, siblings, brothers, enemies, romantic rivals… they checked a little bit of every box. Joanna Kennedy found it incredible that they could all sit together and eat a meal in peace.

The Spring Festival Gala played on the LCD screen. The comedy sketches were full of new, unfamiliar faces, cracking jokes and making witty remarks.

Valentine secretly crouched under the dining table, feeding the last dumpling he’d managed to snag to the model 166 kitty. Liam Valentine would say several sentences for every one-word reply from Simon Lockwood.

The dumpling plate was empty, and the other dishes were mostly finished. Outside, someone set off fireworks again, which bloomed into beautiful flowers against the night sky, clearly visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The fireworks reflected in Joanna Kennedy’s eyes. In that daze, she seemed to understand the meaning of “New Year’s Eve dinner.” A warm current rose from her heart, gradually spreading through her entire body.

The new year was here.

*

When Liam Valentine left, he left behind a gift, calling it a New Year’s present he had gotten especially for Joanna Kennedy.

Only later did Joanna Kennedy find out that Simon Lockwood had “threatened” him into getting it.

“What’s the meaning behind him giving me this flower?” Joanna Kennedy poked the petals of the exquisitely beautiful Blue Rose.

‘Hm, it’s soft. A real flower.’

For someone as petty as Simon Lockwood to allow Liam Valentine to give her such a gift, Joanna Kennedy felt there was definitely something more to this.

“Spill it. What’s the catch with this flower?”

“…Didn’t you say you missed Anna Yates…?”

At the mention of her friend from that other world, Joanna Kennedy’s mood dampened. She had very few friends; counting carefully, Anna Yates was her only female friend.

Anna Yates had been very good to her; she, on the other hand, had neglected Anna a great deal because of her mission.

“…Yeah. I really do miss her,” Joanna Kennedy said.

Simon Lockwood met her eyes. “Before this flower withers, we have one chance to return to the parallel world’s Aethelburg.”

Joanna Kennedy froze.

“The effect will last for half a month, but,” Simon Lockwood’s expression was complicated, “the people in that world will no longer recognize us.”

“Joanna Kennedy, do you want to go?”

“…”

Joanna Kennedy stared blankly at the Blue Rose in the vase, her mind numb. Simon Lockwood’s words replayed over and over in her ears.

This flower could give her and Simon Lockwood a half-month trip to Aethelburg, but the people in Aethelburg—whether it was acquaintances like Anna Yates, Jack Warren, and Sean Grant, or any other ordinary people they had crossed paths with—would not remember her or Simon Lockwood.

‘If we meet as strangers, with only my side retaining the memories, is there any point in meeting at all?’

Joanna Kennedy’s mind was buzzing. She felt like she must have been deliberating for a long time, but in reality, only a few seconds had passed. “I want to go.”

“Okay.” Simon Lockwood took her hand reassuringly. “Then we’ll go.”

‘At least I have my memories. I haven’t forgotten. I remember those precious times and the people who always looked out for me.’

In the bright spring of March, Joanna Kennedy’s film *Blossoming* premiered at a film festival. Before it was even officially released domestically, it had already been nominated for six awards.

Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Actress…

Art films don’t require extensive roadshows; they are typically released overseas first and then domestically. However, Quentin Simmons felt that was unnecessary and insisted on a simultaneous release.

On the day of the film’s domestic release, Joanna Kennedy bought two tickets. Sitting in the back row, she watched the sea of people who had come to see the movie. For the first time, Joanna Kennedy felt nervous. She instinctively reached out to grab something. Her hand was enveloped by a large, strong one, and she slowly began to relax.

The movie’s soundtrack swelled, and the film began. Joanna Kennedy had already seen it once, but she still watched intently. It wasn’t until it was almost over that she pulled Simon Lockwood out of the theater early.

Outside the movie theater, the sunlight warmed her skin. Joanna Kennedy looked up at Simon Lockwood and smiled. She had a feeling this movie would be a milestone in her acting career.