The Fake Wife

That afternoon, a paparazzi photo went viral.

Best Actor Gavin Gu suspected of marriage.

The photo showed Gavin standing outside the registration office in a black suit.

To be fair, he looked good.

But he was marrying me, so no.

I zoomed in.

“They didn’t get me,” I muttered.

My brother glanced over.

“Your husband bought every photo that caught your face.”

“Then why didn’t he buy the ones of himself? What kind of Best Actor has such poor crisis management? Divorce.”

My brother handed me his phone.

Gavin had posted on social media:

Married. With her.

The hot search exploded.

Fans cried.

Passersby laughed at the wording.

Nobody knew who “her” was.

Then another hot search appeared.

Sabrina Yang registration office

Gavin Gu Sabrina Yang marriage

A photo showed Sabrina standing at the same registration office holding flowers.

The staged energy was so strong I could smell the photographer crouching nearby.

And yet people believed it.

“Congratulations!”

“They look so good together!”

“Best Actor and rising actress! Drama romance became real!”

I stared at the screen.

Was everyone blind?

I saw one sane comment:

This is obviously staged. Stop using Gavin for clout.

I liked it.

Then reposted.

Then commented.

With my main account.

Five minutes later, another hot search started climbing.

Lily Li likes comment calling Sabrina staged.

Oops.

Gavin removed every Sabrina-related hot search.

Also mine.

Efficient.

The next morning, I went to Universe Entertainment.

Sabrina strutted toward me in the lobby.

Of all the disgusting things to see before coffee.

“Don’t go upstairs yet,” she said. “Wait here for my delivery.”

“Still in character?” I asked.

Her eyes widened.

Then she slapped me.

Pain flashed across my cheek.

I slowly raised my phone and started recording.

Sabrina’s face changed instantly.

A smile appeared.

She turned away, trembling with suppressed rage.

I lowered the phone.

Not yet.

The drama had not aired.

This was my debut work.

I would let her dance a little longer.

My brother handed me a variety show proposal later that day.

“Living Together. Slow reality show. I got you a regular spot.”

I flipped it open.

Permanent cast included Gavin Gu.

“No.”

“Mom says you move out tonight.”

I paused.

“To where?”

“Gavin’s house.”

I took the proposal.

“Yes.”

Then he added,

“Gavin hasn’t wrapped yet, so the first episode has a substitute guest.”

“Who?”

“Ryan Gu.”

I screamed.

“My dear brother, why didn’t you say that first?”

My first variety show, and I would meet my idol.

This marriage suddenly had one use.