“Ivory Murphy is such a train wreck. Can’t they just kick her off the show already?”

“Doesn’t she get that Braxton Reynolds isn’t into her? Why does she keep throwing herself at him? Where’s her self-respect?”

“And even after Braxton left Jaylani Cunningham a note on the show hinting at their future together, Ivory still had to butt in. How is that any different from being a homewrecker?”

“Ivory’s nothing but a troublemaker. She should just bow out of the entertainment scene already!”

Golden sunlight spilled across Miami Beach as Ivory Murphy lounged on a deck chair, long legs stretched out, thumb scrolling through the endless pile-on in her comments. Same old, same old—everyone calling her a shameless man-stealer.

She let out a soft sigh. “So boring,” she murmured, turning off the screen.

When she’d first been dropped into this new world, she’d hoped for something more exciting. Instead, it was just as predictable as her last life. She might as well have stayed in the far-future interstellar age, playing the part of a pampered princess.

Then she’d read a romance novel set on Earth, and it sparked her curiosity. On a whim, she’d wished she could visit. The wish came true in record time—except she didn’t land as the lead. She woke up as a side character: a lovesick woman destined to be publicly humiliated for chasing the male lead.

From the second the original Ivory laid eyes on Braxton, she was hooked—desperate for even a scrap of his attention. Unfortunately, Braxton liked his women sweet and demure, not bold and breathtaking. And with Ivory’s striking features and mysterious aura, she was never going to fade into the background.

Braxton was openly annoyed by her advances. To him, Ivory was too forward, totally lacking in class. On the show, he constantly lectured her about respecting others—even said flat out that women who chased men were degrading themselves. He once compared a truly outstanding woman to a wildflower by the roadside, meant to be admired by passersby.

Braxton’s fans heard his remarks and took them personally, then came for Ivory with claws out. Even neutral viewers, swayed by the fanbase’s narrative, started seeing her as messy and shameless.

The narrative spun out of control, casting Ivory as the fickle, man-stealing villain. In reality, she was just playing by the show’s rules—openly pursuing love until a couple was locked in. Ivory rubbed her temples. What was actually going on in these online critics’ heads? Hot air, probably.

Braxton’s words were a walking contradiction. Since when was it degrading for a woman to go after love? That ‘ideal woman is a wildflower’ crap dripped with patriarchal arrogance—something the advanced society she came from had ditched ages ago. Clearly, the old Ivory—the one who’d been chasing love in all the wrong places—was overdue for a wake-up call.

“Ivory, the director wants us to meet at the villa,” a soft, gentle voice said from behind her.

Ivory slowly opened her eyes and glanced over. Jaylani Cunningham stood there in a knee-length white dress, radiating girl-next-door warmth. Behind her was Braxton, looking as impatient as ever, plus a camera crew capturing it all for the livestream.

The oversized deck chair swallowed Ivory up, hiding most of her from Braxton and the cameraman. But Jaylani, standing closest, had a front-row view of Ivory’s outfit—a black lace-trimmed swimsuit with white accents. It was elegant and playful, showing off her defined collarbones and slim waist.

Ivory’s body was something to envy—slender, but perfectly proportioned. Even Jaylani felt the sting. A flicker of jealousy crossed her face before she faked a gasp and dramatically covered her mouth. “Ivory, what were you thinking, wearing so little!”

She knew Braxton already thought Ivory was shameless. Seeing her now would only feed his disdain. Her shock was pure performance—like Ivory wasn’t wearing a swimsuit, but something far worse.

As expected, Braxton’s expression curdled, and he turned his back fast—like one more second of looking at Ivory might contaminate him. Jaylani’s voice was pitched just right for the livestream to pick up, and the online audience went wild.

“Wow, Ivory’s so extra. Flaunting it like that while we’re filming!”

“Does she think this beach is her personal stage or something?”

“There are, like, a ton of people here. Does she even know what respect means?”

The photographer, just as captivated, leaned in and focused on Ivory, pulling back for a full shot. Now the viewers could see her in her swimsuit, draped across the chair like she didn’t have a care in the world.

Sure, most of her skin was on display, but the important parts were covered. Besides, it was a beach. A swimsuit wasn’t exactly out of place.

The real issue was the contrast—Jaylani stood beside her in a full-length dress.

“Well, at least she has clothes on. If you can even call that clothes!”

“Look at our Jaylani. She knows she’s on a show and wouldn’t show up underdressed, no matter how hot it is. Ivory, where’s your sense of decorum?”

Most comments piled on criticism, but a few rogue voices slipped through.

“Okay, say what you want, but Ivory’s body is insane. I’m impressed.”

“Her waist is tiny, and she’s got abs too!”

Clueless about the online pile-on, Ivory rose slowly, wincing as her toes sank into the scorching sand. “Ouch.”

The heat was brutal. She pouted, glanced at the trio, then fixed the cameraman with her best please-help-me look.

The cameraman melted instantly, his resolve crumbling under her gaze. He didn’t even know what she needed before he blurted, “Of course!”

Ivory smiled. “Could you grab me some sandals, please? The sand’s really hot.”

His gaze dropped instinctively to Ivory’s bare feet, and a surge of responsibility hit him. The sand was hot enough to burn her. He set the camera on its stand and rushed off to get sandals.

Jaylani was thrown by how fast he jumped to satisfy Ivory’s ridiculous little request. “Ivory, you—”

Ivory cut her off. “To answer your earlier question—why am I dressed like this? We’re at the beach. Is it weird to wear a swimsuit by the sea?” She gave Jaylani’s outfit a slow once-over. “But aren’t you dying in that long cotton dress? It’s practically a hundred degrees out here.”

Jaylani hadn’t expected that. She nearly choked.

Wasn't she feeling the heat?

Oh, absolutely.

Inside the villa, the AC kept things cool, but the second you stepped outside, the sun beat down without mercy, and the humidity wrapped around you like a wet blanket. Even the short walk from the villa to the beach—barely a hundred feet—left a thin sheen of sweat on Jaylani's nose.

Jaylani sweated easily. Any longer under that sun, and her back would be soaked through, clearly visible beneath her Victorian-inspired dress. She only wore the long dress because Braxton admired the simplicity and purity of white dresses. Even if it was miserable, she'd endure it for him in this scorching heat.

Now that Ivory had called attention to it, Jaylani's face burned, as if Ivory had exposed her little act.

“I've always wondered—isn't Jaylani hot in that long dress?” one viewer commented.

“Angels don't feel heat! Jaylani looks perfect without breaking a sweat, unlike Ivory, who's trying so hard to show off in that skimpy outfit. Ugh!” another replied.

“Well, looks like the ‘angel’ is sweating after all,” someone else shot back, watching their star's nose glisten in HD and undercutting the fan's claim.

“This is gold. Honestly, Ivory's being practical. I couldn't wear that many layers in this heat without passing out.”

“Why's that funny? Jaylani is dressed appropriately and respects the occasion, unlike the other one. Even if Ivory were naked in front of Braxton, he wouldn't give her a second look, haha.”

Braxton, standing nearby, noticed Jaylani's discomfort and turned to address Ivory on her behalf. But when his gaze landed on Ivory, he was momentarily thrown.

He couldn't deny the brief flicker of appreciation—surprise, too. Ivory's outfit was definitely striking, but he quickly snapped his focus back to that familiar, irritating expression and regained his composure.

“Ivory, does your tone have to be so sarcastic? Not everyone wants to dress as inappropriately as you do,” he rebuked. “Jaylani puts up with the heat out of consideration for everyone else's sensibilities. You could learn a thing or two from her self-control and courtesy.”

Tsk, tsk. If he'd been wearing anything other than a loose tee and beach shorts, his little lecture might've actually landed.

Ivory found it hilarious and barely hid her laugh.

“What's so funny?” Braxton demanded, brows knitting together.

Ivory caught her breath and replied pleasantly, “I just thought your beach shorts look comfortable. It's nice that you're dressed practically.”

Braxton swallowed a retort.

Was she mocking him? Was it hypocritical to preach modesty while wearing beach shorts himself?

No. That couldn't be it. Ivory was captivated by him; surely she wouldn't dare mock him.

He chose to believe she was admiring his trendy outfit, even if the compliment left a bitter taste.

Either way, Braxton had no intention of dragging this out. Interacting with Ivory had already worn his patience thin. So, despite the irritation simmering under his skin, he decided to end the exchange.

Without hesitation, Braxton took Jaylani's hand and said curtly, “Let's go. We've delivered the director's message. No need to concern ourselves with her.”

Seeing Braxton treat her so gently, Jaylani felt reassured and feigned reluctance. “Shouldn't we wait for Ivory?”

“No need,” Braxton said coolly. “She has plenty of followers eager to indulge her.”

His words carried a trace of disdain, implying Ivory was flirtatious. Jaylani lowered her gaze, a slight smile tugging at her lips. Hand in hand, they walked off together, their retreating figures like something out of a picture-perfect couple.

Watching the live stream, fans shared mixed feelings:

“Even though I know it's just a show, seeing him holding another girl's hand makes me so jealous!”

“Don't worry! He promised us no dating until he steps out of the limelight. His focus is on his career—trust him!”

“Absolutely, Braxton wouldn't deceive us.”

Ivory waited a while longer before the cameraman returned with the sandals. She blushed as she thanked him.

“Oh, it's really nothing,” he stammered.

Although he'd never interacted with Ivory up close before, his initial impression matched the online narrative. Now, seeing her in person, she seemed pretty polite—and it reshaped his view.

Inside the villa, a man with glasses and a crisp white shirt was busy at the kitchen counter, preparing ingredients for a spiced honey cake. When he saw only Braxton and Jaylani come in, he asked, “Isn't she coming in?”

It was clear who he meant.

Jaylani started to explain, but Braxton cut her off. “She's busy flirting on the beach!”

The bespectacled man, Keith, an up-and-coming tech executive, hesitated. Was there a hint of frustration—or jealousy—in Braxton's tone?

Picking up on Braxton's disapproval, Jaylani quickly added, “Ivory left her sandals in the villa, so she asked the cameraman to fetch them. The sand was scorching, and it hurt to walk.”

“Honestly, such a drama queen,” muttered Oscar, a young actor glued to his gaming console. “Does she think her feet are made of porcelain? I thought her skin was as tough as her attitude.”

Oscar, a child star turned accomplished actor, was known for his talent as much as his bluntness. His fans liked to praise his straightforwardness as candid honesty, though it often landed him in hot water.

Keith, though silent in agreement, kept shooting glances toward the door, his furrowed brows signaling his own impatience.

With all three men seemingly on the same page about Ivory, Jaylani felt assured.

She lowered her head, trying to hide the grin threatening to break free. Thinking back on her past life—and her time with Ivory Murphy on the show—dragged up the old sting of how differently their stories had played out.

Back then, Ivory’s entrance had been a spectacle. Her striking looks had every male guest sitting up and every viewer eating out of the palm of her hand. Jaylani, meanwhile, had believed she had better conversation skills and a winning personality. But on the show, she couldn’t gain traction, not with looks that didn’t exactly stop traffic.

Frustrated, she’d cooked up all sorts of schemes to connect with the male guests—including slipping a crew member cash to steer them her way. But during one desperate play, Ivory exposed the whole thing on a livestream, and Jaylani’s plans unraveled right in front of everyone.

From that day on, she was branded conniving. The audience—joined by legions of online commentators—buried her under a mountain of criticism. The producers, citing the backlash, kicked her off the show without so much as a goodbye.

Life after the show was brutal. Friends and colleagues iced her out, judging her every move, and she spiraled into a depression that stained the rest of her days and ended in bitterness.

All of it traced back to Ivory! If Ivory hadn’t streamed her downfall, would she have fallen so far? Ivory—the real puppet master—was the true architect of Jaylani’s ruin!

In her final moments, Jaylani swore that if she ever got another chance, she’d give Ivory a taste of her own medicine and expose her for the world to see.

Astonishingly, fate smiled on her. She got a second chance at life. Armed with memories of her past, Jaylani deftly manipulated events until Ivory became the audience’s least favored contestant.

By the time they wrapped up shooting the first episode, Ivory’s reputation had already taken a nosedive. Jaylani was sure Ivory wouldn’t escape her ill fate this time. Ivory, in this lifetime, your downfall is inevitable!

After they finished dissecting Ivory, the group silently agreed to drop the subject. The other two female guests were upstairs cleaning up—earlier, while helping with meal prep, an unruly octopus had splattered ink all over them, forcing a wardrobe change.

When Jaylani and Braxton Reynolds stepped into the room, the two women came downstairs. Millie Reed—the investment banker with a chic bob—and Mikaela Jackson—the aspiring pop singer with playful space buns—joined the gathering.

“Where’s Ellis?” Mikaela asked, scanning the room.

Jaylani stifled a laugh. “Ellis Murphy’s off fishing, I imagine.”

[Amusement rippled through the online chat.]

[Fishing during a dating show? Only Ellis would pull a retirement move.]

[Why can’t we switch to his stream? I’m desperate over here.]

Every contestant on the dating show Love Matters had their own camera crew and personal livestream channel. The main channel—capturing common areas like the villa’s living room—ran around the clock. Contestants only had to meet the minimum streaming requirements; after that, they could continue or pause whenever they liked.

Ellis seemed the least interested in broadcasting. Once he hit his streaming quota, he’d shut down his channel and move around like he didn’t have a care in the world. As a result, his fans had to catch glimpses of him through the main feed or the background of someone else’s stream—usually just snagging his shadow.

Even so, Ellis’s fanbase ballooned. He’d entered the entertainment industry at eighteen and, over a decade, evolved into a triple-threat star, racking up accolades with zero scandal. His genuine talent and sterling reputation had fans crowning him a “legend,” a title that carried far more weight than the usual fan-given nicknames.

In today’s entertainment scene, Ellis was a rarity. Though he’d begun focusing behind the camera, his appearance on this dating show as a favor to the director had boosted the ratings by seventy percent. What happened with the show after that was none of his concern.

Meanwhile, viewers were plenty amused by the competitive jabs flying among the other guests.

Inside the villa, the chatter turned lively at the mention of Ellis. They were so engrossed that nobody noticed Ivory sneak back in, change clothes, and slip into the room—until her laid-back voice broke the conversation.

“I think he’s pretty charming,” Ivory remarked, thoughtfully touching her chin as she recalled his silhouette from afar. Of all the male guests, he was the only one who genuinely intrigued her. As for the others—the sharp dresser, the fresh-faced heartthrob, and the stylish pop star—they struck her as painfully ordinary.

The group turned, surprised to see Ivory settled on the couch behind them, clearly having tuned in to their talk. Oscar Alvarez was the first to respond.

“Were you eavesdropping? Ivory, don’t you have anything better to do?”

Ivory glanced at him, seemingly bemused, then paused as if giving it real thought. “If by eavesdropping you mean overhearing every word upstairs thanks to your booming voice, then I suppose I was.”

Was she critiquing his volume? Oscar’s mood darkened. “What are you implying? Are you saying I’m too loud?”

Ivory looked innocently at him. “I didn’t mean that. Being loud isn’t a bad thing, right? With that kind of lung capacity, you’d really shine in the music scene.”

Oscar, caught off guard, couldn’t rebuke her. Instead, he found himself pondering her intent. “Do you really think I’d make a good singer?”

Ivory nodded sincerely, mentally picturing him performing with no need for a microphone.

“Well, that’s a perspective I didn’t expect. I’ll let it slide this time.” Buoyed by her unexpected compliment, Oscar let the matter drop.

Save for his manager, nobody knew Oscar’s secret dream was singing. Even after achieving some fame, he had begged his manager to let him try it, only for the studio session to end in disaster.

Afterward, his manager banned him from singing publicly, warning that his fanbase couldn’t handle the surprise. So Oscar’s fantasy of fame through music lingered as a dream.

Whether Ivory truly flattered him or not, her remarks had won him over enough to forgive and forget.

In contrast, Jaylani hadn’t counted on Oscar’s quick, civil reconciliation with Ivory. She’d expected Ivory to leave, ashamed and tearful. Jaylani forced a grin and sought to stoke the flames.

“Actually, Oscar’s voice wasn’t as loud as mine just now. If I upset you, Ivory, I apologize. We were discussing Ellis, and you’re welcome to join instead of keeping to yourself. We’d love your company...”