I Fought for His Love but Remained Second Best

When we first met, I was just an abandoned girl from a remote mountain village, while he was a renowned director in Chicago.

To get closer to him, I worked tirelessly to master acting.

But when I finally rose to fame, Shane Dean gave my debut film to his first love.

Years later, I stood by the river, gazing at the man I had loved for a decade.

"Do you really want to jump?" I asked.

Shane avoided my eyes and turned away, adjusting Harriet Hudson's coat.

"You’re Harriet’s stunt double—you have to jump for her."

So I jumped. And with that single plunge, two lives were lost.

For the first time, the ever-indifferent Shane lost control.

...

Standing by the surging river, I shivered. The cold wind bit at my exposed feet as I watched Harriet Hudson wrapped in a blanket, Shane’s suit jacket draped protectively over her shoulders.

I sniffled and asked him again, "Do you really want me to jump?"

He still wouldn't look at me. Instead, he carefully tucked Harriet’s coat around her.

"The wind is too cold," he murmured. "You’re Harriet’s stunt double—you have to dance for her."

"But Joann was drenched in the rain for Harriet just yesterday," my assistant Ruth Ball protested. "She was only discharged from the hospital today—"

"She left the hospital, didn’t she?" Shane cut in coldly.

I smiled bitterly. I had ignored the doctor’s warnings and left the hospital today just to be here. After all, today was his birthday.

"Harriet is pregnant. This film needs to be completed in two months," Shane said, his gaze empty of emotion.

"You’ve already delayed her for too long."

Harriet had waited a single day, and that was "too long."

Yet I had waited ten years for him. What did that mean?

I pressed my cracked lips together and stepped into the river.

As the current carried me away, I suddenly realized—the safety harness had snapped.

The icy water crushed against my chest, stealing my breath. But all I could think about was Shane’s gentle expression as he wrapped Harriet in his coat.

No matter how cold the wind was against her, it could never be colder than this river.

I fought to stay afloat, gasping for air. The shore was in chaos, but everyone rushed to Harriet. Only three figures—so small, so insignificant—ran toward me.

Shane was not among them.

Perhaps this was what it meant to be a star orbiting around a moon.

Perhaps, from the very start, I was just a bright light he had held in his hands—only to offer it to Harriet.

Before I met Shane, my name was Lana Hatch—the unwanted daughter of parents who longed for a son.

When I was eleven, my mother gave birth to her fifth daughter.

That night, I ran. Through the pounding rain, I stumbled onto the village road, vowing to leave that name behind forever.

I didn’t know how long I walked before a man’s voice stopped me.

"Where are your parents?"

"Dead."

I didn’t slow down. I just kept moving forward, desperate to put more distance between myself and my past.

"What’s your name?"

"...I don’t have one."

"I’m director Shane. If you have nowhere to go, do you want to become my actress?"

I halted, turning to face him.

Shane smiled gently and handed me a business card.

Under the sunlight, the white card gleamed so brightly that it hurt my eyes.

I reached out cautiously, my fingers trembling. But no matter how careful I was, I still left a dark smudge on its surface.

"Alright," I whispered.

"From now on, your name will be Joann Oliver."

At that moment, I thought I saw stars reflected in his eyes.

I had walked from the storm into the light, from darkness into dawn.

Lana Hatch, the girl no one had wanted, had finally become Joann, the girl he had chosen to see.