The comments calmed down when they saw I showed no reaction:

[There's no way a side character can see the comments. The person above must be crazy.]

[He's just a stepping stone for the main character. His whole family deserves to die!]

Rage churned in my chest.

I'd never hurt anyone in my life. So why should I have to pave the way for Bonnie James and Cliff Fox's love story?

Why should I be framed until my family's company goes bankrupt and my parents jump off a building?

The crowd helped Cliff to his feet, all clamoring to report me for stealing someone else's work.

Bonnie went straight for the kill, summoning the Organizing Committee: "I want to file a complaint! Someone swapped the artworks and stole another contestant's achievement!"

Cliff hung his head pitifully, the picture of wounded innocence.

The judges' expressions turned grave.

"The entire painting process was conducted under surveillance," one of them said. "It's impossible for anyone to have swapped the works."

Cliff's eyes reddened as he lifted his head, glaring at the long-haired female judge at the front. "Ms. Chavez, you're friends with Jack Gilbert's mother. Of course you'd side with him. But none of us even said who did this, and you're already rushing to cover for him. Don't you think that's a bit much?"

Bonnie piled on, her voice cold as ice: "Ms. Chavez, I donated five million dollars to this competition. Not so I could watch you play favorites and pull strings behind the scenes. My prize money needs to go to someone who actually deserves it."

The other contestants joined the chorus:

"So the judge is friends with Jack Gilbert's mother? No wonder he had a chance to swap the paintings!"

"What a dirty trick. And he calls himself old money? More like a parasite feeding off ordinary people!"

Cliff fixed Delilah Chavez with a stubborn stare. "I demand a review of all competition entries! And I demand that Ms. Chavez—who's clearly covering for him—step down immediately!"

Delilah didn't speak. I beat her to it.

"On what grounds are you demanding a review?" My voice cut through the noise. "On what grounds are you demanding Ms. Chavez step down?"

"Based on nothing but your baseless accusations? Do you have any idea how much extra work you'd be dumping on the staff?"

"You keep talking about being some poor kid who had it rough, but you sure don't hesitate to make life hell for people who actually work for a living."

"Yes, Ms. Chavez is my mother's friend. But she hasn't done a single thing to cover for me. If you want her gone, you'd better come up with some actual evidence."

I could tolerate Cliff slandering me—after all, it was nothing but speculation.

But dragging an innocent woman like Delilah into this? That was unforgivable.

Her husband, Marcus Chavez, had kidney failure. He survived on dialysis.

She'd refused my mother's offer to help pay for his treatment, insisting she'd handle the tens of thousands in monthly medical bills herself.

That was why she treasured every job, every side gig. She never complained. Never asked for pity.

I wasn't about to let Cliff destroy her.

The moment I defended her, Bonnie let out a mocking laugh. "Touched a nerve, did we?"

"What's wrong—afraid we'll find proof of your little artwork swap once we dig deeper?"

Cliff clenched his fists, his expression twisting as though he'd finally reached his breaking point.

"All I wanted was for you to give back the prize money so I could pay my tuition and stay in school. That's all. But you've pushed me too far. Now you have to pay."

He pulled out his phone and dialed the Art Integrity Review Unit.

"I'm filing a formal complaint. Jack Gilbert colluded with judge Delilah Chavez during the national competition to swap my artwork and steal first place in the preliminaries. I demand her immediate termination and the return of what's rightfully mine!"

The other students erupted in cheers, eager to watch my downfall.

The comments exploded:

[This is peak fiction! The MC is so badass!]

[Finally made the call! The higher-ups are sending investigators!]

[The side character's about to be ruined!]

Bonnie fixed me with an icy stare.

"Before the investigators get here, I'll give you one last chance to come clean."

Cliff adopted that insufferable I'm-only-trying-to-help tone. "Once this blows up, you'll lose a lot more than some little preliminary title."

The comments flooded in, praising him:

[The ML is too kind—even now he's giving the second lead a chance to confess.]

[He's SO pure-hearted. That's why he keeps rejecting the FL, because of her engagement to the villain.]

[These two angels can't be together because of that TRASH. The FL has to practically beg him to accept her gifts!]

[Can this simp just explode already?!]

I was starting to question these viewers' collective IQ.

If Cliff were really the saint they imagined, why was he tangled up with Bonnie when he knew she was engaged? His so-called "rejections" were textbook playing-hard-to-get.

One glance at his wardrobe—not a single item under four figures—told me everything. Bonnie had been bankrolling him for God knows how long.

And they actually believed he needed prize money for tuition? The stupidity was dragging down the average intelligence of our entire circle.

I regarded them both with cold indifference and stated again, "I don't need to swap paintings to win. Especially not for some preliminary round."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"Wait, yeah—this competition is just domestic. Jack's always competed internationally."

"His family's loaded, and he's already established. Why would he cheat?"

"What would he even gain?"

Doubt flickered across Bonnie's face. Her gaze slid toward me, uncertain now.

But Cliff's lips curled into a mocking sneer. He jabbed a finger at my face.

"Need me to spell it out for you?"

"It's for the guaranteed admission spot!"

His voice turned razor-sharp. "You all think this competition is just about rankings and prize money. But the grand champion gets a guaranteed spot at a top international art academy."

"That's something no amount of competitions can buy!"

Gasps swept through the room.

Bonnie's eyes filled with disgust. "Even if you worm your way into an elite school through dirty tricks, you won't last. And besides—" She smiled coldly. "Your true colors are about to be exposed."

When my expression didn't waver, she pointed at me, voice dripping venom.

"We'll see who's crying when the coffin lid closes!"

A group of uniformed investigators approached, one of them holding up a USB drive.

"This contains the complete footage—the painting process and the submission procedure. We're here to settle this once and for all."

The lead investigator turned to me. "You're Jack Gilbert, the one who was reported?" His tone was clinical. "I'll ask you one final time: Did you swap someone else's artwork to secure guaranteed admission?"

Cliff and Bonnie exchanged gleeful looks, practically vibrating with anticipation as they waited for the footage to destroy me.

I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw my own brain.

"I was granted exceptional admission last year," I said flatly, spreading my hands. "Why would I swap paintings to get admitted... again?"