Drama Reversal: After Rebirth, The Ex Begs for Mercy

This scene was all too familiar, but it was happening a week earlier than it did in my previous life. My heart sank as I felt a wave of déjà vu. With the painful experience of my past life still fresh in my mind, I couldn't help but feel on edge.

I stared at the line drawing I had just finished on my computer screen, a sense of numbness creeping over me. Not long after, Lisa updated her followers with her latest progress:

“Thank you for your concern. Here’s my latest update: the line drawing phase is now complete!”

Could there really be such a coincidence? My heart raced as I looked at my original work on the screen. In my previous life, Lisa had accused me of plagiarism with tears streaming down her face, claiming on the internet that I had stolen her work multiple times. She had even threatened me privately, warning me not to tell anyone about our interactions.

"I had no choice," she had said in her emotional pleas, "She threatened me and even said she’d hurt my parents."

The sight of her crying on camera, alongside Caleb, made her seem like the victim to everyone. Her tearful appearance instantly garnered sympathy from viewers. It wasn’t just about the so-called “evidence”—she had also enlisted her parents to support her case, comparing her work to mine online. The live broadcast of her ordeal drew massive attention from netizens.

[I can’t believe that she’s getting famous by stepping on others!]

[Poor Lisa, she’s so kind and beautiful. Only now does she have the courage to expose this.]

[How dare she do this to Lisa? Lisa’s amazing and she’s being threatened by someone like her?!]

[If that copycat dies, good riddance. Lisa, don’t hold back. She’ll get her karma!]

[People like her deserve to suffer. It would be better if she took her parents down with her—let the whole family face downfall!]

The comments poured in, full of anger and vitriol. I felt a cold sweat break out as I read them, knowing that history was repeating itself and that I had to act quickly to prevent another disaster.

I couldn't wrap my head around why Lisa would fabricate such a story and drag me through the mud like this. I had tried everything to clear my name—I reached out to the police, presented my case, but with the so-called "evidence" stacked against me and the barrage of insults that didn’t explicitly name anyone, they told me there was nothing they could do.

While online harassment was at its peak, Lisa ended up winning first place in the competition. On the day her trophy photo hit the internet, I decided to confront her in person. But before I even got close, a security guard at her community gate turned me away.

Netizens spotted me near Lisa's home and quickly uploaded photos online. They spun wild stories, accusing me of seeking revenge. Lisa’s only response was a chilling, “I am so scared!”—and with those four words, she exposed my home address and personal details. Soon, my house was overrun by extremists who decided to "teach me a lesson." They threw Molotov cocktails, setting my house ablaze.

After the fire was put out, I was devastated to see handprints on the wall, a grim reminder of the violence. My parents had been innocent victims in all of this. The hate and anger bubbled up inside me as I clenched my fists, determined to uncover the truth behind this twisted plot.

Just as I was deep in thought, I overheard a conversation between two people passing by.

“Oh my god, did you hear? Lisa’s started painting again, poor thing!”

“I heard her new style is totally different from before. She’s really changed her approach!”

“That copycat is so shameless—did they target Lisa?”

“There are only three days left and it’s too late for anyone to start over now. But if it’s Lisa…”

Their words hit me like a ton of bricks, leaving me stunned and frozen in place. I felt like I’d been walloped with a heavy club and I couldn’t shake the shock. My hands trembled as I pulled out my phone, hoping to find some clarity.

But instead, I saw a flurry of messages from my classmates. The tone was laced with barely concealed excitement and suspicion. The messages were blunt.

[Jovanna, did you really plagiarize her?]

[I took a look at Lisa’s new work today and it’s exactly the same as yours!]

[Jovanna, tell me the truth!]

The more I read, the more my heart sank. It was like being struck by lightning—my work, the one I had fought so hard to protect, was being accused of plagiarism again. My mind raced, trying to make sense of how this was happening. Had Lisa somehow managed to make it look like I was the one stealing from her?