I'm a Blondie, So Don't Come Near Me!

It wasn't until yesterday that I discovered in horror that I'd transmigrated into the novel I'd once stayed up all night finishing, becoming the infamous blond delinquent in the story.

According to the plot, I was supposed to steal the male lead's spotlight and take his heroine away from him.

But I had no interest in this character at all. In fact, I went out of my way to smooth the path for the two of them to fall in love.

I kept my distance from her and wished them well, determined to be a quiet background character.

But on the night I thought the story could finally get back on track, the heroine, who should have been by the male lead's side, came looking for me through the pouring rain.

Soaked to the skin, she gazed at me with startlingly bright eyes, her voice trembling:

“Who gave you the right... to decide on your own to give me to him?”

I'm just a blond delinquent trying to clock out of this book. Why did you have to come after me and worry about me!?