chriiiisy

One fake boyfriend. One nosy family. Zero chance of keeping things pretend.

When sarcastic barista Lee Mina hires a professional “romantic actor” to survive her cousin’s wedding, she expects a smooth, one-time performance.
What she gets is Kim Minseo: dangerously charming, suspiciously committed, and armed with scripted compliments and “chemistry-building exercises.”

It was supposed to end after the weekend.

But a single kiss and a viral photo later, Mina finds herself trapped in a fake relationship she didn’t plan for—with a man who might not be acting anymore.

And the worst part?

She’s not sure she is, either.

A heartwarming, hilarious romance about what happens when pretending becomes real—and love refuses to stay on script.

Rent-A-Romance

The Rent-A-Life office felt different this time.

Minseo walked through the minimalist lobby, past a wall of smiling employee headshots—his among them—like a ghost walking through his own past.

He didn't bring flowers. Or a box of apology macarons. Or a final monologue.

Soojin looked up from the front desk and immediately frowned. "Oh no. You're doing it, aren't you?"

He offered a guilty smile. "Hey, Soo. Mind telling Ms. Kang I'm here?"

She crossed her arms. "You could've just ghosted like everyone else."

"I respect you too much for that," he said.

"You're not going to cry, are you?"

Soojin sighed dramatically and buzzed him in. "Fine. But if you start quoting love poems, I'm locking you out."

Ms. Kang didn't look up as he entered.

"Sit," she said curtly, scribbling notes.

He placed the envelope on her desk. "My resignation."

Still scribbling. "So you're really doing this."

"Throwing away a stable career for a barista with trust issues."

Minseo bristled slightly. "She's not just a barista."

Then she said, "You were the best we had."

"I was the best actor you had," he corrected. "But I was tired of being someone else in everyone else's story."

Ms. Kang studied him, eyes sharp. "And what happens if she gets scared again? If she runs?"

Minseo smiled gently. "Then I'll let her. And I'll wait until she comes back."

She leaned back, exhaled through her nose. "You're either incredibly romantic… or incredibly stupid."

"I think," he said, "I've been both from the beginning."

She reached forward, stamped the resignation letter, and handed it back.

After years of curated relationships, of manufactured chemistry and rented affection—he was free.

And for the first time… it didn't feel like a loss.

As he stepped back into the lobby, Soojin arched a brow.

He held up the paper. "Officially unemployed."

She smirked. "So what now? Start a rice cake stand? Join a boy band? Open a tea shop with your girlfriend?"

"No," he said. "Now I figure out how to be in love… without charging by the hour."

Clean Break