Married The Lead

The relentless downpour outside mirrored the suffocating silence within the opulent hospital room. Kim Taehyung, or rather, Vincent in Taehyung's body, lay on the plush bed, feigning unconsciousness. He could hear every whispered word, every muffled groan, as his fiancé, Jeon Yirang, and his cousin, Choi Aera, carried on their illicit affair just feet away. The sickeningly sweet endearments, the feigned remorse—it was a farce he’d become intimately familiar with over the past few days.

"Brother Yirang... woo woo woo, we shouldn't do this!" Aera's voice, thick with crocodile tears, grated on his nerves.

Vincent, trapped in Taehyung's unresponsive body, silently scoffed. Sister, that wasn't what you were saying just a moment ago! he thought, mentally rolling his eyes.

Yirang's smooth, comforting tones followed, a symphony of deceit. "Aera, I don't like him; I only like you. It's good that Taehyung is like this—no one can separate us anymore."

Oh, thank you for that, Vincent thought, a bitter laugh bubbling in his mind. The sheer audacity of it, played out for a 'vegetative' audience. He just wished he could open his eyes, sit up, and tell them exactly what he thought of their performance.