The Unlucky Alpha and Her Hard-to-Please Omega - Chapter 1

After three rounds of drinks, the private lounge was buzzing with laughter. A few people had already succumbed to the alcohol, slumped over the table. This was the wrap party for the crew of The Feast. At the film festival that had just concluded, The Feast had racked up five nominations and walked away with the prestigious Best Picture award. It was a massive validation for everyone involved, and the excitement in the room was palpable.

Everyone, that is, except for Song Yi, the woman responsible for the film’s Best Actress nomination.

There was a simple reason for her lack of enthusiasm: this was her third time being nominated for Best Actress, and her third time losing.

Three consecutive years of nominations; three consecutive years of sitting in the audience, clapping for someone else. Song Yi found herself wishing the committee would just create a “Most Gracious Loser” award for next year. She’d win it by a landslide.

Song Yi raised her glass to take a sip. Just then, a young starlet from the production. It was hard to tell if the girl was genuinely oblivious or just trying too hard to be social, stumbled across the room with a glass half-full of red wine. She plopped down into the chair next to Song Yi, a grin stretching from ear to ear.

“Song-jie, I have to toast you!” the girl chirped, her words slurring slightly. “This is my debut project, and we actually won! I’m going to wake up laughing from this dream. Thank you so much for looking out for me! I’m bottoming this one out. You just drink as much as you like!” The girl tilted her head back and downed the wine in one go.

Song Yi pressed her lips together. As the only person in the room dissatisfied with the awards ceremony, she wasn’t even allowed the luxury of drinking away her sorrows in peace.

Forcing a brilliant, professional smile onto her face, she played along and finished her glass with the girl.

“Sister, did you know? I’m actually a huge fan of yours,” the girl rambled, her eyes shining as she stared at Song Yi’s face. “I applied to the Film Academy because I grew up hearing stories about your legendary debut. You weren’t even out of school yet when you landed that blockbuster. Everyone was fighting for the spotlight that year, and then you just… appeared out of nowhere and snatched Best Newcomer right out from under them.”

“You’re so cool… the pride of all Omegas. Back then, I used to think: If only I could be that amazing…“

The girl was well and truly drunk now, fixated on stories from years ago.

Back then, Song Yi had been even more high-spirited than this girl. She had thought she would cut a path straight to the top. Seniors in the industry treated her as a formidable rival; critics prophesied she would be the next “Queen of the Screen.”

Everyone assumed her ascent would be effortless.

Renowned directors had scrambled to offer her roles. Song Yi and her manager, Sister Chen, had been picky, yet she still moved from one set to the next without a break. Every film was a success, yet every single one fell just short of the ultimate prize. She had spent three years chasing the Best Actress trophy, and three times it had slipped through her fingers.

The newcomer’s eyes glazed over as she began to slide out of her chair. Song Yi reached out to steady her, leaning her back against the seat so she could sleep it off.

I’m actually not cool at all, Song Yi thought. And I’m certainly not “amazing.”

A bitter smile played on her lips. She reached for the nearly full bottle of red wine left on the table. Now that her overenthusiastic junior was asleep, she could finally drink in quiet solitude.

A vintage red wine is supposed to be a balance of tannins, acidity, and alcohol, a complex flavor deepened by time in an oak barrel. It’s meant to be savored sip by sip, held up to the moonlight to admire the hazy, crimson glow through the glass. It wasn’t meant to be gulped down like this, used as a blunt tool for the sole purpose of getting wasted.

Song Yi shook her head. Her vision was starting to double. It seemed she was drunk, too.

Steadying herself against the table, she stood up slowly and called her manager to arrange a ride. With half the table passed out, she couldn’t deal with the logistics; Sister Chen would have to handle the cleanup.

Song Yi headed for the restroom, hoping a splash of cold water might clear her head. However, she had overestimated her tolerance, or perhaps, amidst the endless rounds of toasts, she had simply lost track of how much she’d put away. The moment she stood, the world began to spin. As she pushed open the lounge door, the thick, cloying scent of incense in the hallway washed over her, making her scowl instinctively.

“You’re drunk. Let me take you home.”

An Alpha actor from the same film had followed her out. Without a word of greeting, he reached out to drape an arm around her shoulders. It took Song Yi several seconds to identify the face through the alcoholic haze.

“Yi-yi, I know you’re happy today, but you’ve had too much. It’s not good for an Omega to drink this much.”

Song Yi let out a cold snort. His words sounded concerned and proper, but they would have been much more believable if his hand wasn’t currently inching toward the gland at the nape of her neck.

“Hands off.” Song Yi grabbed the wandering hand and flung it away from her body.

Under normal circumstances, her rejection wouldn’t have been so blunt. But she was drunk, and her brain no longer cared about social niceties or “saving face.” More importantly, a certain perennial Best Actress nominee was in a very, very bad mood.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Song Yi snapped, looking the Alpha dead in the eye. The shifty, predatory look in his gaze was nauseating.

“I…” He flinched, clearly not expecting her to be so confrontational.

“Yi-yi, have I ever told you… that I like you?” He tried his best to look soulful, reaching out toward her again.

He acted as if his “affection” was some grand blessing, as if his invitation meant she would gladly spend the night with him.

What is wrong with this guy?

“I’m not interested in Alphas,” Song Yi said flatly. Without giving him a second glance, she walked straight into the restroom.

“What the hell does that mean? You think you’re too good for me? I wouldn’t want you anyway! An Omega showing her face in public every day… what kind of Alpha would even want someone like you?”

Song Yi twisted the tap. The sound of rushing water instantly drowned out his petty tantrum.

The water was freezing. Song Yi shivered as she looked into the mirror, feeling the fog in her mind lift slightly.

Her face was flushed an unnatural shade of crimson, and her breathing was heavier than usual. The alcohol had left her feeling feverish. She reached back with wet fingers to touch the gland on her neck; her skin was scorching. A strange sensation, like a low-voltage electric current, surged through her limbs.

This feels exactly like how the textbooks describe a heat cycle.

No, she told herself. It must be a reaction to the cold water. Song Yi didn’t experience “heats.” She was born with a pheromone deficiency. She didn’t have the burden of a regular cycle, nor did she have the “functions” an Omega was supposed to have. That was her reality since the day she presented, and no amount of alcohol could make her forget it.

“What kind of Alpha would even want someone like you?”

The man’s parting shot echoed in her mind. She had heard variations of that sentence so many times over the years that she had grown a thick skin. It didn’t hurt anymore. What used to be hurt had turned into anger, and then eventually, into something merely laughable.

Why did an Omega have to position themselves as a “weakling” begging for an Alpha to want them?

Why couldn’t an Omega play the field just as recklessly as an Alpha?

Was it all just because of pheromones?

Well, what a coincidence. She didn’t have any.

THUD.

A loud bang erupted from one of the stalls behind her, as if someone had accidentally punched the door while gesturing wildly. Then, an incredibly excited voice followed: “Holy crap! Someone is throwing money in the hallway? Where? I need to see this! Can I pick it up?!”

“Wait, who is it?”

“Dammit.”

Whatever the person on the other end of the phone said, the voice in the stall grew quieter before finally falling silent.

Song Yi’s brow relaxed. Even though people’s joys and sorrows were rarely aligned, gossip was a universal human instinct. She briefly imagined the scene outside and felt a flicker of genuine amusement.

Bless the little “wealth-distributor” outside for lifting my mood, Song Yi thought. I hope she doesn’t regret it too much when she sobers up tomorrow.

…..

Up on the second floor, the plush cashmere carpets muffled every footstep. The intricately carved banisters gave off an elegant woody scent. Everything was sophisticated and high-class, except for the aforementioned “wealth-distributor” who was currently yelling her head off.

“I am so sorry, truly. We have a lounge upstairs, would you care to move there to rest?” The young waiter was struggling very hard not to laugh.

“No! I don’t need rest! I’m happy! She failed again, and I’m thrilled! Drinks for the whole floor are on me, put it on the Shen tab!”

Shen Yu fumbled with her wallet, and after confirming that not a single bill was left inside, she smoothly reached for the wallet of the woman standing next to her. “Put the Shen tab on Director Tang’s tab!”

Tang Di squeezed Shen Yu’s wrist with surgical precision, hitting a pressure point that caused the wallet to drop right back into her own hand.

“I am incredibly sorry for the trouble,” Tang Di said politely to the waiter. “Someone will be in touch to settle the damages. I also hope your establishment can remain discreet about… whatever just happened.”

After the apology, Tang Di grabbed Shen Yu by the shoulders and propped her against a decent-looking corner of the wall. She pulled out her phone and dialed Shen Yu’s manager, fuming. “Get over here and pick her up. I don’t know what she’s going to do next, but I know I have a patient waiting for me on the operating table.”

Tang Di had finally managed to get a day off, only for Shen Yu to drag her out for drinks as if her life depended on it. Halfway through, Shen Yu had mysteriously pulled out her phone and forced Tang Di to watch the awards ceremony.

To use Shen Yu’s exact words: “Watching Song Yi fail is more satisfying than succeeding myself.”

When the Best Actress winner was announced and Song Yi was shown smiling and clapping in her seat, Shen Yu had been so delighted she ordered an entire crate of wine.

“Look at her face. She’s practically crying,” Shen Yu had critiqued. “That is the textbook definition of a forced smile.”

Tang Di didn’t quite get it. Song Yi had at least been at the ceremony. She couldn’t understand how Shen Yu, a fellow actress, could sit there mocking her while watching a livestream.

The consequence of that crate of wine was that Shen Yu had turned herself into a total idiot. Fortunately, Tang Di’s professional habits kept her stone-cold sober, otherwise, no one would have been able to call the manager to haul this fool away.

“Watch her,” Tang Di told the waiter before turning to leave.

The waiter watched her go, then immediately whipped out his phone and leaned in toward Shen Yu. “Shen Yu! Oh my god, it’s really you! Can I get a picture? I’m a huge fan. My whole family loves you!”

“Come on, look at the camera.”

The moment Shen Yu heard “look at the camera,” her instincts kicked in. She lifted her head, her eyes hazy with intoxication. Before she could even locate the lens, the waiter had already snapped five rapid-fire photos.

“Heaven, I got a selfie with Shen Yu. My life is complete.” The waiter scurried away, his fingers flying across the screen as he uploaded the photos to a massive group chat. And just like that, a picture of a disheveled, drunk Shen Yu sitting in a corner was swept into the ocean of the internet.

Left alone for a moment, Shen Yu managed to pull herself up using the wall. Her nose twitched. Suddenly, an indefinable scent began to drift through the air. Shen Yu thought it smelled wonderful.

It wasn’t like any fragrance she had smelled before. It was a light floral scent, not at all cloying or sweet. If she had to describe it, the scent felt green, like a gentle breeze blowing through a garden at dawn, swaying young branches heavy with dew.

As if possessed, Shen Yu walked toward the source of the fragrance. She finally identified the origin: it was coming from the beauty standing by the stairs.

She must be a delicious Omega.

Shen Yu approached. The beautiful Omega saw her, her elegant eyes narrowing slightly in confusion.

“Shen Yu?” the Omega said, accurately calling out her name.

“Song… Song Yi?” Shen Yu stared, dumbfounded.

In Shen Yu’s booze-addled brain, this person was supposed to be on a screen pretending to be fine. Now, she was standing right here in the flesh… and she smelled so good…

Dammit. This is embarrassing.

“I… you… you look really pretty today,” Shen Yu blurted out, her logic failing her.

That scent was swirling around her, threatening to scramble what was left of her brain. The moment the words left her mouth, Shen Yu realized what she’d said and wished she could go back in time three seconds to kill her past self.

“Just get back from the awards?” Shen Yu said, finally regaining a thread of logic.

Right. That was the play. Song Yi had failed again. She needed to take this chance to mock her!

“Loser! Hahaha!” Shen Yu let out a loud laugh.

“Shen Yu, I don’t feel well.” Song Yi’s brow furrowed. The moment she spoke, her legs gave way, and she lost her balance.

Shen Yu’s body moved faster than her brain. Before she realized she had caught Song Yi in her arms, she heard heavy, ragged breathing against her ear, alongside the drum-like pounding of her own heart.

The scent of an Omega brushed against her skin. Song Yi was trying to hold back, but soft, broken whimpers still escaped through her bitten lips.

Something was wrong with Song Yi.

Shen Yu and Song Yi had known each other since middle school. Song Yi had moved into her neighborhood after her parents relocated. The girl was a perfectionist who took everything too seriously. She was no fun at all. Shen Yu couldn’t even remember why they had started clashing in the first place, but the fact remained: they had spent years competing and bickering. Now, they were both in their twenties.

Grown-ups. Adults.

Song Yi took a deep breath, lifting her head from Shen Yu’s shoulder. She stared at Shen Yu’s sharp, delicate jawline as if she were admiring a work of art.

I am an Omega with a deficiency. I don’t have heat cycles. That was the second-to-last thought in Song Yi’s head.

The final thought was: But I want this so badly right now.

Song Yi stood on her tiptoes, and her soft lips pressed against Shen Yu’s cheek.

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