I AM NOT THE LOVE INTEREST!

Chapter 40: Screw This

—ARIA—

What the hell...

Really.

What the actual hell was this world supposed to want from me?

The carriage wheels rolled steadily across the road back toward the capital, but my thoughts remained trapped somewhere else entirely. My hands were still cold from the nightmare. Even now, every time I closed my eyes, I could still hear the roar of the crowd screaming for my execution.

I clenched my fists tightly against my lap.

It felt too real.

It was not like an ordinary nightmare born from stress or anxiety. It felt like something inevitable waiting for me. As though the world itself had briefly opened just enough to show me where all of this was truly heading no matter how desperately I struggled against it.

And the worst part?

I had tried.

I genuinely tried.

Ever since waking up in this world, I had done everything possible to avoid becoming the villainess from the novel. I stayed away from Cynthia. I avoided bullying her despite the original Aria’s history. I broke off the engagement with Sebastian instead of obsessively clinging to him. I even tried avoiding the male leads entirely whenever possible.

I changed my behavior.

My decisions.

My entire personality.

So why did that nightmare still feel like a warning?

As though none of it mattered.

My jaw tightened faintly.

Was I seriously destined to die no matter what?

Just because the plot demanded it?

Just because some fictional story decided the villainess needed to suffer for the heroine’s happy ending?

A bitter laugh almost escaped me.

How ridiculous.

How unfair.

In the original novel, Aria died because she spent years tormenting Cynthia out of jealousy and obsession. She manipulated people, abused her authority, and became increasingly unstable until the entire kingdom turned against her.

That ending made sense for the original Aria.

But me?

I had not done any of those things.

I did not even want Sebastian anymore.

Hell, I wanted absolutely nothing to do with any of them.

And yet in that nightmare, they still stood there watching me die.

Sebastian.

Ezekiel.

Matthias.

The prince whom I haven’t met yet.

None of them moved.

None of them questioned it.

Even Cynthia looked...hateful.

That disturbed me more than the hatred from the crowd.

I slowly leaned my head against the carriage window and closed my eyes briefly.

So what exactly was the point of transmigrating me into this world?

To struggle helplessly toward the same ending anyway?

To spend every day walking on eggshells trying not to trigger some invisible death flag while fate quietly dragged me toward execution regardless?

The more I thought about it, the angrier I became.

Honestly...

Screw this.

If I was truly doomed no matter what I did, then why was I exhausting myself trying to please everyone?

Why was I trying so hard to avoid offending people who already viewed me negatively from the beginning?

Why was I carefully managing my words and actions for the sake of a future that apparently refused to change?

I let out a quiet breath and stared blankly outside the carriage.

Maybe I had been approaching this all wrong from the start.

Maybe there was no reward for being good here.

No hidden route where the villainess peacefully escaped and lived happily somewhere far away.

Maybe this world simply wanted Aria Valen to suffer because that was the role written for her.

And if that was true...

Then fine.

Fine.

If I truly could not avoid dying by their hands someday, then maybe I should stop wasting energy trying to become someone acceptable to them.

A cold smile slowly formed against my lips.

After all, if the story insisted on treating me like the villainess regardless of what I did...

Then maybe they should experience one properly.

Not the obsessive original Aria who chased men around pathetically.

Not the desperate woman begging for affection.

No.

If they insisted on forcing me toward destruction anyway, then I might as well live honestly before reaching it.

I opened my eyes slowly.

The fear from earlier still lingered beneath my chest, but the panic had already begun transforming into defiance.

Because what exactly had Cynthia suffered from me since I arrived here?

Nothing.

I avoided her.

I left her alone.

I even attempted to be cordial despite knowing she was technically the heroine destined to replace me in everyone’s favor.

And still, the nightmare showed me dying for her sake.

As though her happiness automatically required my destruction.

A humorless laugh escaped me.

Amazing.

Absolutely amazing.

I spent weeks stressing myself trying not to offend these people.

For what?

To still get publicly executed?

I rubbed my face tiredly before leaning back against the seat.

Honestly, maybe dying would not even be the worst outcome anymore.

At this point, I was exhausted.

Exhausted from constantly calculating every interaction.

Exhausted from monitoring every possible "plot event."

Exhausted from trying to survive inside a story that clearly wanted me cornered.

And if death truly waited for me at the end regardless...

Then maybe I should at least live however I wanted before reaching it.

Who knew?

Maybe dying here would simply send me somewhere else afterward.

Maybe I would wake up in another body.

Another world.

Another ridiculous situation.

At this point, transmigration itself no longer felt impossible.

I stared quietly at my reflection against the carriage window.

Aria’s face stared back at me.

Beautiful.

Privileged.

Yet doomed.

Then my thoughts drifted briefly toward Ezekiel.

My expression darkened immediately.

The confusion on his face earlier almost made me laugh.

As though he genuinely could not understand why I disliked him now.

That man had spent years looking down on Aria. Every memory I possessed of him involved arrogance, irritation, or outright disdain toward her existence.

And yet suddenly he wanted explanations because I no longer chased after him?

Please.

The nightmare only made everything clearer.

Those men were never safe for me.

In the end, every single one of them still stood beneath that execution platform while I died.

The memory alone made my stomach twist unpleasantly.

I looked down at my trembling hands before slowly tightening them again.

No.

I was done begging fate to spare me.

If this world truly intended to destroy me eventually, then I would stop wasting time trying to earn mercy from people who never planned to give it in the first place.

Let them hate me.

Let them misunderstand me.

Let them call me difficult, sharp-tongued, unstable, or arrogant.

At least that version of me would be honest.

At least I would no longer spend every waking moment terrified of accidentally triggering someone else’s storyline.

Another quiet laugh escaped me.

Poor original Aria.

Maybe she never stood a chance either.

The carriage continued moving steadily toward the capital while the afternoon sky slowly darkened beyond the windows.

And somewhere deep inside me, the realization that perhaps there had never been a "safe route" for me at all, finally settled in.

If fate truly insisted on making me its villainess...

Then perhaps it was time to stop running from the role.