[Calla's POV]

Calla stepped outside her house and, as usual, found Damian waiting by the gate. Their houses stood side by side, a fact that had tethered them together for as long as she could remember. Casually leaning against the fence, Damian greeted her with his usual easygoing smirk. It was a routine that had never changed—every morning, they walked to school together, just as they had done since childhood.

“Yow,” Damian greeted her with his usual laid-back smile.

Just then, Calla’s parents stepped outside as well. “Take care of Calla today, Damian,” her mom called out with a warm smile.

“Don’t worry, Aunt. I’ve got her on a leash,” Damian replied, throwing his arm casually over Calla’s shoulder.

Am I his dog? Calla thought, shooting him a sharp glare.

Damian just smirked in response, clearly enjoying the reaction.

Unable to resist, Calla immediately started tackling him, playfully wrestling her off him.

“Aunt! Your daughter!” he yelled, still trying to escape her grip.

Her parents just laughed, amused by the daily banter. “Look how close they are. I’ll be relieved if those two end up together,” her mom said with a content sigh.

“I’m sure Damian’s parents would agree,” her dad added with a grin.

“Mom! We’re just friends! F-R-I-E-N-D-S!” Calla practically shouted, exasperated by the same conversation she’d been having with them for years. She kept insisting it was impossible to see Damian as anything other than a friend, no matter how often they hinted otherwise.

Calla and Damian had been together practically since birth, their parents having been close friends since their college days. Their families had even made a playful pact: if their child ended up being of opposite genders, they would arrange for them to marry. But Calla wasn’t buying into that plan, no matter how much their parents teased them.

After a slow morning, they had some time to kill before class, so they headed to the convenience store near their campus for a quick bowl of ramen. Calla, lost in thought, started slurping her noodles at an impressive speed.

“Hey, hey, Calla. No one’s going to steal your ramen!” Damian commented with a smirk, passing her a tissue.

“I don’t trust you,” Calla shot back, giving him a suspicious glare.

As she wiped her mouth with the tissue, Damian, true to form, casually stuck his chopsticks into her ramen and stole a mouthful of noodles.

“You’re the worst!” Calla exclaimed before launching her revenge, stabbing her chopsticks into his bowl and stealing a generous portion of his ramen in return.

This playful back-and-forth was what anyone would see whenever the two were together. They bickered, joked, and teased each other as if they were siblings rather than potential future spouses.

While Calla was still busy stealing Damian’s ramen and Damian was casually eating hers, Calla suddenly asked, “Damian, do you like me?”

Damian immediately choked on his food. “What the hell? I’d rather date a frog than you,” he sputtered, still coughing.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Yeah, I feel the same way,” Calla sighed, returning to her ramen.

After a brief silence, Calla spoke again, “Damian, we really need to find someone else to date. Our parents won’t stop bugging us, and honestly, I’m getting tired of seeing your face every day.”

Damian laughed, his carefree nature shining through. “Alright, how about this—let’s race to see who can find someone to date first. What do you think?”

Calla grinned. “Deal. And the one who gets married first has to pay for the wedding.”

“Okay, okay! I’ll definitely win. I mean, look at this,” Damian said, gesturing confidently to his face.

Well, he wasn’t wrong. Damian was ridiculously good-looking, the kind of guy who made people stop and stare. It’s why he was hailed as the “campus prince.” But Calla had seen that face every day for years, and by now, it had lost its charm on her.

Just as they were about to continue their playful banter, Damian suddenly glanced at his watch. “Oh no! It’s time! We’re going to be late for class!” He hurriedly gulped down the last of his soup and took off running toward the campus.

“Wait for me, you jerk!” Calla yelled, hastily slurping the rest of her ramen before bolting after him.

In her rush, she didn’t notice the uneven pavement. The next thing she knew, she was tripping over her own feet, and before she could even call out to Damian, everything went dark.

＊＊＊

When Calla opened her eyes again, she found herself in an unfamiliar room, lying on the softest bed she’d ever felt. The air smelled faintly of lavender, and the room was bathed in warm pastel tones, accented with gold trims. It looked… expensive. What was more confusing was the sight of several maids bustling around her, dressed in black uniforms with white aprons—like something straight out of a fantasy novel.

Maids? Calla blinked in disbelief and sat up, her head throbbing. She instinctively reached up to rub her temples, still trying to make sense of the lavish surroundings.

The maids all turned to her with wide, worried eyes.

“Is this a dream?” she muttered to herself. To test it, she slapped her own cheek—hard.

“Miss, please don’t—” one of the maids started, rushing to stop her.

But the pain was real. Calla winced. That hurt. A lot.

Wait… don’t tell me I died after tripping and reincarnated as some villainess who’s destined to be killed? Calla’s heart raced as her mind filled with the familiar tropes from all the fantasy novels she’d read.

Now she needed to confirm whose body she had woken up in. Please let this be a familiar villainess, she thought, scrambling out of bed.

Stumbling toward the mirror, Calla’s breath caught in her throat. The girl staring back at her had the same face she’d always had, but with a few differences: her long, silky hair cascaded down her back, and her skin was flawless—free from any of the acne breakouts she had been so used to battling. She looked… pampered. Rich.

“Who… am I?” Calla whispered to her reflection, trying to make sense of the impossible situation she found herself in.

“Lady Rosalie, are you okay?” one of the maids asked, her voice filled with concern as she watched Calla’s bewildered reaction.

Before Calla could respond, a voice she immediately recognized echoed through the room. “What is happening here?”

Her heart skipped a beat. That voice… She turned around swiftly, and the maids around her immediately bowed to the figure who had just entered the room.

“Damian?” she gasped. Standing in the doorway was a man who looked exactly like Damian, but with black hair—the natural color he had before he dyed it. Did Damian reincarnate here, too? she wondered, her mind racing.

Without thinking, Calla dashed forward and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Both the maids and the man she hugged seemed completely caught off guard.

“Thank goodness you’re here. I don’t know what I’d do without you, you bastard,” Calla murmured into his chest, her voice filled with relief as she hugged him tighter, hoping he’d understand her confusion.

But something was wrong. He wasn’t reacting like Damian. When she pulled back to look at him, her heart sank. His expression was cold, reserved—nothing like the carefree, easy-going Damian she knew. She blinked, confused, and without thinking, she reached up to touch his face, trying to make sense of it.

She gently placed her hands on his cheeks and raised the corners of his mouth, attempting to force the familiar grin she had seen countless times. A shocked gasp came from one of the maids behind her, but Calla barely noticed.

He looks like Damian… but somehow… he’s not?

The man’s expression shifted to one of clear annoyance. He suddenly grasped her wrists tightly, and the sharp pain made her wince.

This isn’t Damian. This isn’t the Damian I know.

Fear began to creep in. “Who… who are you?” she whispered, pulling her hands away from him as the realization settled in.

The man’s cold gaze bore into her, and Calla could feel the weight of her mistake. Whoever this was, he wasn’t her childhood best friend.