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Framed by My Ex,But I Was Dead Last Novel Cover

Framed by My Ex,But I Was Dead Last

Signing up for an elite painting competition triggers a bizarre phenomenon for Jack Gilbert: floating text scrolling across his vision. These mysterious comments label him a disgraced ex-boyfriend destined to ruin his own reputation by stealing the male lead's art. When rival Cliff Fox and judge Bonnie James publicly accuse him of switching canvases to secure a dirty victory, the crowd turns hostile. However, Jack derails the predicted script by pointing out a hilarious truth—he placed dead last.
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Chapter 2

She bit her lip, her face a mask of anguished sympathy.

"You're just too strong for your own good. I've told you a hundred times—I can help you, financially, with connections, anything. But you insist on doing everything yourself." Her voice trembled with admiration. "You're nothing like those spoiled trust-fund brats who've had everything handed to them..."

The bullet comments exploded:

【Can the ex-boyfriend seriously not tell the FL is throwing shade at him?! Just forfeit already and give first place back to our precious ML!】

【The FL only sponsored this whole competition so she could be a judge—all for the ML's sake!】

【Doesn't matter how much he lies. Once they pull the security footage, his "pure moonlight" image is going straight into the gutter!】

【The ML comes from such a poor family and has to work his way through school. He's been through so much!】

I stared at Cliff.

At the hundred-thousand-dollar watch on his wrist. The eighty-thousand-dollar Dior suit. The six-thousand-dollar leather shoes on his feet.

My brow furrowed.

Poor family?

Working his way through school?

Were we talking about the same person?

He was dressed more like old money than I was—and I was the actual rich kid here.

Anyone who'd ever painted knew how easy it was to get pigment everywhere. That's why most artists wore cheap, stain-resistant clothes to work in.

But Cliff...

I watched the comments continue to gush over his "admirable work ethic" and "humble circumstances."

I had no words.

Before I could even respond, tears began streaming down Cliff's face.

"I know you're some wealthy heiress who doesn't care about prize money this small," he choked out. "But for me, this award is an entire year's tuition. I need this money. I can't survive without it."

His eyes were red-rimmed, glistening. Then, without warning, he dropped to his knees before me.

Thud.

"I know you switched the paintings because you wanted first place. Fine—I'll give you the title. You can have the championship. But please, can you at least give me back the prize money?" His voice cracked. "If you want me to ghost-paint for you in the future, just ask. You don't have to steal my work."

Bonnie rushed forward, cradling him protectively. "A man's knees are worth their weight in gold! You're the victim here—why should you kneel to him?!"

If I agreed with anything Cliff said, I'd be confessing on the spot.

I kept my voice level. "As far as I know, tuition is twelve thousand a year. You could sell any single item you're wearing and cover that several times over." I paused. "And for the record—I have zero interest in winning a traditional painting competition. Why would I swap anyone's work?"

Cliff's expression flickered, freezing for just a moment. Then he turned to Bonnie, wounded and helpless.

"These things aren't mine. They're gifts—from people who care about me. They have sentimental value. I could starve to death before I'd ever sell someone's heartfelt gesture for money." His voice rose with desperate conviction. "All I want is to earn my way through my art. Through my own two hands."

"I'm not trying to steal the championship from you. I'm begging you—just give me back the prize money."

His voice was raw, shredded, barely a rasp.

Bonnie's eyes shimmered with emotion. "You sweet, foolish girl..."

The other contestants closed in, accusations flying:

"Cliff is literally kneeling and begging you. What more do you want?"

"I can't stand these trust-fund parasites—thinking money means they can steal other people's work."

"Making him return the prize money isn't enough. He needs to be disqualified!"

The bullet comments erupted in righteous fury:

【Can this piece of trash just DROP DEAD?! He's forcing our precious ML to KNEEL. I'm sobbing, our poor baby ML!】

【Thank god the FL will expose him for switching the paintings and give the championship back to the ML!】

【The best part comes later—the FL never forgets how the ML was humiliated. She pretends to pursue the ex-boyfriend, then ditches him AT THE ALTAR on their engagement day! The supporting male's whole family is disgraced, their stock price tanks! The FL buys up their shares and drives his accomplice parents into bankruptcy until they jump off a building!】

I stared at that last comment.

My vision went red at the edges.

The bullet comments shrieked:

【WAIT—can he actually SEE these?!】

I wrenched my gaze away, pretending I hadn't seen a thing.

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