Arc 1: The One Who Is Left Behind

Joey had never expected his life to end up this way. One moment, he was lying on the floor of his bedroom, staring up at the ceiling, wondering about his next move in life, and the next... well, here he was. He couldn't even remember how he had gotten here, but when he opened his eyes, everything was different.

The world around him was familiar in the way one's subconscious can pick out something from a dream—a hazy familiarity mixed with disorientation. The crisp school uniform he now wore was not his own. His body, though still his own in shape and form, felt different, as though it wasn't fully his anymore. As if someone had borrowed it for the day and forgotten to return it.

"Welcome, Host." The voice of the system was mechanical and cold, its words appearing directly in his mind.

Joey blinked, sitting up. His new surroundings—a modern high school with sleek lockers and sterile walls—felt almost like a prison. It was nothing like the small, cozy room he had left behind. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to get a grip on the situation.

"What is this?" he asked aloud, though he knew he wouldn't get a simple answer.

"This is your first mission," the system responded, its voice carrying no warmth. "You have been transmigrated into a supporting character in a novel. Your task is simple: Make Rael, the tragic side character, happy."

Joey frowned. "Rael? I've never heard of him."

"Rael is crucial to the storyline," the system explained. "His tragedy helps elevate the original male protagonist's narrative. You must change that."

Joey stared out the window, trying to process the strange mission he had been given. He had no idea who Rael was, but if he had to make someone happy, he would. That was his nature—he couldn't help but want to bring joy to others. He would just have to find this Rael and figure out how to help him.

As he stood up, a sudden realization hit him like a jolt of electricity: He wasn't just in a random story. This was a high school romance novel—one of those melodramatic ones, where the side characters were often overlooked, the ones who suffered so that the leads could shine. Rael, from the way the system described him, was one of those tragic side characters—the second male lead, perhaps, whose painful existence was meant to heighten the suffering of the original heroine and protagonist.

Joey exhaled. He had no time to waste. He was here for a reason, and it was simple: Make Rael happy. That was all he needed to do.

Later that Day

The school was bustling with students, and Joey's eyes swept over the crowd, searching for any sign of the person the system had described. He wasn't exactly a social butterfly, but his mischievous nature helped him navigate through situations that required him to blend in.

Then, he saw him.

Rael stood by the lockers, his face a mask of cool indifference. The way he held himself—aloof, distant, as if the world couldn't touch him—was both intriguing and heartbreaking. His jet-black hair framed his face in a way that almost made Joey want to reach out and touch it. There was a certain emptiness in Rael's eyes, a quiet sadness that only someone like Joey, who was used to seeing through the facades people put up, could catch.

Rael was clearly hurting. Joey could feel it.

"Okay, this is where it starts," Joey muttered to himself, cracking a small smile. He knew exactly what he needed to do. The trick was getting close enough to Rael without coming across as too eager or intrusive. He'd have to figure out what made Rael tick—what made him smile, laugh, feel something other than the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Joey strolled over casually, trying to act natural, as if he wasn't in a rush to make an impression. "Hey," he greeted, his tone light and playful.

Rael turned his head slowly, eyes meeting Joey's for a brief moment. His gaze was distant, though not unkind. "Can I help you?"

Joey's grin widened. "Maybe you can. I'm Joey," he said, offering a hand in greeting.

Rael didn't immediately shake it. He seemed to evaluate Joey, as though sizing him up. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—was it curiosity or annoyance? Joey couldn't quite tell.

"Rael," came the soft reply. The way Rael said his name was almost like a sigh, as if the world had weighed it down, leaving little room for anything else.

Joey dropped his hand, deciding not to push for physical contact just yet. Instead, he leaned casually against the locker next to Rael, his eyes never leaving the other boy's face. "You know, I've been watching you," Joey continued, keeping his tone light. "You don't smile much. That's a shame. A guy like you should be smiling all the time."

Rael raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the unexpected comment. "Why do you care?"

Joey shrugged, not missing a beat. "I care because you're the type of person who doesn't let anyone in. I bet no one's ever really seen the real you."

There it was. The faintest hint of something—something almost like a crack in Rael's emotional armor. Joey saw it in the way Rael's shoulders tensed, how his eyes darted briefly toward the ground before meeting his gaze again.

"You don't know anything about me," Rael replied, his voice flat. But Joey could see the lie in it. He could see the vulnerability that Rael was desperately trying to hide.

Joey leaned closer, his mischievous grin never faltering. "Maybe not yet. But I will. And I'm going to make sure you start smiling a lot more, Rael."

For the first time, Rael seemed to hesitate. A flicker of something—reluctance, curiosity, maybe even a hint of hope—crossed his face before he masked it once again.

"Let's see if you can," Rael said quietly.

Joey don't said anything but his mischievous eyes told his confidence.