The gloomy, poverty-stricken girl in our class received an anonymous love letter. Everyone whispered that the handwriting belonged to me. I was just about to deny it when floating comments suddenly flashed across my vision. [Here we go! The female lead gets healed by a love letter during her school days, gets into MIT, and eventually becomes the richest tech billionaire in San Francisco.] [It takes her years to find out the male lead wrote it, and she falls madly in love.] [Ugh, why is the annoying side character getting involved? He doesn’t even know how badly he’s going to get destroyed later.] Wait. MIT? I immediately stepped forward and nodded. “That is right. I wrote it. To be honest, I have had a massive crush on you for a long time.” The moment those words left my mouth, the entire classroom went dead silent. Hazel Brooks was known for her dark, unapproachable aura. She always hid behind thick black frames and a heavy, suffocating fringe, isolating herself in the very last row. No one usually dared to speak to her. When people saw her holding the pink envelope, a wave of teasing and jeering had erupted. No one wanted to claim the letter. After all, associating with the social outcast meant you would become an outcast yourself. Just as Hazel was being mocked, with people sneering that the letter was a cruel prank, those weird floating comments had appeared. I did not care about the gibberish they were spouting. I only saw three letters. M. I. T. 1 Hazel stared at me unblinkingly. Her irises were pitch black, the whites of her eyes showing just a bit too much beneath them. When her face lacked expression, she looked genuinely intimidating. Her tone was thick with suspicion. “You wrote this?” “Yeah. That is totally my handwriting.” Whoever actually wrote the letter clearly wanted to stay hidden. They had used rigid, blocky print, every letter perfectly squared off. I took calligraphy classes when I was a kid, so I was used to writing in precise block letters too. [Oh my god, the evil side character is making his move! So shameless, stealing the male lead’s credit.] [Whatever. Once his lies are exposed, the main couple will crush him so hard he will have to flee the state.] I am the evil side character? How evil could I possibly be? I just wanted to get into a good college. Come on. We are talking about MIT here. If this future billionaire could drag my grades up to Ivy League standards, my parents would probably build a statue of me in our hometown square. I propped my chin on my hands, sitting right in front of her desk, my eyes practically sparkling. “So, Hazel. I have liked you for ages. Want to give us a try?” “I am not interested in dating.” She casually slid the letter back across the desk, lowering her head to stare intensely at her AP Calculus worksheet. The classroom erupted in a chorus of mocking “oohs” and laughter. I could not care less. Not interested in dating? That just meant she was not saying a flat out no to me. Yep, us evil side characters are just built with this kind of blind confidence. Since my secret crush angle failed, I decided to go all out. I started delivering breakfast to Hazel’s desk every single morning. Usually, to save money, she only drank a cheap carton of soy milk. I brought her something different every day. Fresh bagels, warm lattes, toasted paninis. She would look at me with helpless frustration, but she hated wasting food too much to throw it away, so she always accepted it. During a passing period, she brushed past me in the hall. “Stop bringing me food. I have nothing to give you in return.” “I do not need anything back. I like you. I just want to treat you right.” “…” She furrowed her brows and walked away quickly. But the tips of her ears were flushed pink, just like a rabbit. After school, I trailed behind Hazel, clutching the love letter I had supposedly written. The floating comments were going wild, cursing me for being a shameless creep harassing the female lead. I pretended I was blind. Pride was not going to get me an acceptance letter. I kept pestering her, asking about her favorite foods, her hobbies, her favorite colors. “Hey Hazel, I wrote you another letter. Want to read it?” She ignored me. Finally, annoyed to her breaking point, she stopped and glared at me. “Rowan Pierce, what exactly do you even like about me?” “I like that you are insanely smart.” She lowered her eyes. The fire left them, replaced by a hollow exhaustion. “My family is broke. My parents are gone. My grandmother is sick. Being with me is nothing but a burden. I do not have the time or energy to play these stupid games with you. Just go home.” “I do not care about any of that. You did not choose your background.” The things you are born with do not define the places you will go. A sudden, sharp light flickered in Hazel’s usually dead eyes. She stayed quiet for a long time. I thought I had pushed too far and made her mad. “Look, if you really hate the idea, that is fine. I will just…” come back and ask tomorrow. Before I could finish the sentence, Hazel snatched the letter right out of my hand. “I will think about it. Stop writing these stupid letters and focus on your grades.” I immediately leaned in closer, grinning like an idiot. “Does that mean you are going to tutor me?” Hazel looked visibly uncomfortable under my intense stare and turned her face away. “Yeah.” Gym class. The volleyball net was set up, but one team was short a player. Hazel stepped onto the court. I rarely saw her participate in anything involving other breathing humans. But once she was in the game, she was fiercely focused, serving three consecutive aces. As she jumped for a spike and landed, the wind caught the hem of her gym shirt, lifting it slightly. I caught a glimpse of her waist. Pale as moonlight. And incredibly narrow. Her team won. I immediately jogged over to hand her an iced water bottle. The guys around us started whistling. The team captain laughed. “Give it a rest, Rowan. She already rejected you. Stop being a simp.” One of the guys smirked. “Hey, persistence breaks down resistance. Let the man work.” Hazel took the water, completely ignoring their noise. Instead, she fixed her dark eyes on me. “Did you finish memorizing the vocabulary list?” “…” 2 Yeah. She had basically become my drill sergeant. She micromanaged everything, from my overall syllabus down to exactly how many practice equations I needed to finish during a five minute break. “Almost. I got a little distracted watching you play.” “I was only on the court for fifteen minutes. Who were you staring at for the other thirty?” Hazel looked down at me, her gaze unblinking and heavy. The pressure radiating from her was intense. I actually had not been looking at anyone. I was just zoning out on the bleachers. But somehow, it felt like she was jealous. “Are you mad?” “No.” She looked down and took a sip of water. I let a smirk tug at the corner of my mouth and deliberately leaned in close to her ear. “Hazel, I found another thing I like about you. Your skin is really soft, and your waist is gorgeous.” “If I break into the top twenty on the next mock exam, can I put my arm around it?” “Cough, cough… You…” she choked on her water. “Going to study my vocab now!” I laughed and bolted toward the shade of the bleachers. When I glanced back, her entire face was burning red. Teasing Hazel was just too easy. When we were studying side by side in the library, if my knee accidentally brushed against her leg under the table, she would blush furiously. When the mock exam results came out, I actually made it into the top twenty of our class. I immediately went to claim my prize. She refused to look at me, her cheeks flushed. “You were not specific enough. I assumed you meant the top twenty in the entire school.” I pouted. Guess I was not getting that hug anytime soon. Hazel was a strict taskmaster. If I did not finish my assignments, she would coldly demand I redo everything from scratch. She constantly calculated the gap between my current GPA and MIT’s admission requirements, pushing me relentlessly. Honestly, she acted like we were already a couple planning to move to Boston together. One night at the library, I stayed up so late I passed out right on the desk. I had a dream. In it, I saw Hazel standing next to another guy. She had found out I was a fraud who stole someone else’s love letter. She was a ruthless, untouchable CEO, using her power to blacklist me from every job in the city. I was driven to total despair. I jolted awake in a cold sweat. Hazel was sitting perfectly straight beside me, meticulously grading my practice test. She had single handedly dragged my math scores from the gutter to the top tier. She finished marking the last page and her frown relaxed slightly. “Not bad. You only messed up one of the long form questions.” “Do I get a reward for that?” I was still shaken by the nightmare and desperately needed some comfort. She suddenly stammered. “W-what kind of reward do you want?” “Something I do not usually get.” Hazel pressed her lips together, glancing nervously around the quiet library, the tips of her ears glowing pink. “There are too many people here.” “Who cares if there are people?” “You…” She hesitated, her fingers nervously hovering over the hem of her shirt. I stood up and started packing my bag. “Since I am improving, my reward is going home early. I have not had a full night of sleep in weeks.” She looked at me, bewildered. “That is the reward you wanted?” “Yeah.” “Oh.” Hazel lowered her head, looking weirdly disappointed. Under Hazel’s iron fist, my grades skyrocketed. The whispers mocking me slowly died out. People were shocked by my academic comeback, but they were even more shocked that the gloomy outcast was actually giving me the time of day. They did not understand the power of bribery. Over the past year, I had spent every single cent of my allowance buying Hazel premium food. Her face was finally losing that sickly, sunken look. When the finals finally hit, I performed completely out of my mind. The night of the senior class graduation dinner, I bought a gift. I wanted to thank her properly for dragging me out of the academic trenches. But I waited until the restaurant closed. Hazel never showed up. I was just about to call her when the floating text exploded across my vision. [Oh wow! The female lead met the true male lead at her summer job! Yes!] [He is so gorgeous. Way better than that annoying side character. Can the side character just vanish already?] [The chemistry is insane! They are going to fall in love while working together!] I slowly locked my screen. I looked down at the gift box in my hands. Inside was a brand new smartphone. Guess she would not be needing it. 3 I had tested the waters with Hazel before, asking her in a half joking tone. “So, Hazel. Have you thought about making it official? When are you going to accept my confession?” Whenever I asked, she would just lower her head and stay perfectly silent. No response is a response. I scrolled through our chat history. Just yesterday, we had been estimating our final test scores together. I typed out one final message. [Hazel, thank you for everything you did for me this year.] Then, I blocked her number. She was never going to like me anyway. As the designated evil side character, it was best I got out of the way before I became a stepping stone. Miraculously, I actually got the acceptance letter from MIT. The day the email arrived, my dad practically threw a parade down our street. The class group chat was blowing up with notifications. Hazel had gotten in too. But she never sent a single message in the chat. She was probably too busy falling for the actual male protagonist. I racked up a ton of cash from relatives over the summer. When fall arrived, I strutted onto campus with a top tier laptop and the latest phone. Freshman Orientation Week. The late summer sun was baking my face, but I spotted Hazel instantly in the crowd of the neighboring group. She was tall, her skin porcelain bright, her features delicate and striking. She was impossible to ignore. She looked so much better than in high school. She must have switched to contact lenses. Without those ugly frames, her cold, beautiful face was fully on display. Her gaze was still intense and slightly dark, like a dangerous heroine from a comic book. I guess meeting the right guy really changes a person. Lunch break. Everyone flooded the dining halls. A tall, incredibly handsome guy walked over to greet Hazel. They chatted and laughed naturally. I noticed they were holding matching water bottles. That had to be him. Liam Crawford. The male lead from the comments. He was undeniably good looking, built like an athlete, and carried himself with effortless confidence. Suddenly, Hazel’s eyes locked onto mine across the quad. I froze, caught off guard, debating whether I should wave or pretend I did not see her. She had already looked away, turning back to Liam as they walked off together. It was like I was a complete stranger. Had she already figured out I lied about the letter? My heart pounded against my ribs, leaving a suffocating, heavy feeling in my chest. That night, the orientation groups merged around a massive bonfire. We all sat in a giant circle facing each other. Just my luck. Hazel was sitting diagonally across from me. We were playing a ruthless game of Truth or Dare. When the bottle pointed at Hazel, she chose Truth. The guys around her instantly started howling, pressuring the group leader to ask the ultimate question. “Do you have a boyfriend?” Hazel stayed quiet for a moment. “Yes.” She said it with absolute certainty. She never even glanced in my direction. A sharp ache pierced my chest, swelling uncomfortably. A collective groan of disappointment echoed from the guys. The dude sitting behind me muttered, “Of course the pretty ones are always taken.” Yeah. She is the literal protagonist of this world. NPCs like us just need to stay in our lanes. The floating comments were screaming again, theorizing that Hazel had secretly fallen for Liam during their summer job and waiting for the grand reveal. Had Liam still not confessed to writing the letter? My stomach churned in panic. Should I just confess and get it over with? Suddenly, the music stopped. I was holding the dreaded hot potato. I had lost. I chose Dare. The challenge: Pick a girl in the circle and make her blush. That was actually pretty easy. I scanned the crowd. I barely knew anyone here. And I definitely could not ask Hazel for help. She would just stare a hole through me. As I debated my options, I caught Hazel quietly looking at me, a strange light flickering in her dark eyes. I pointed randomly in her general direction. “I pick her. Is that cool?” The leader nodded. “Go for it.” Hazel shifted, preparing to stand up, but a senior girl suddenly stepped in front of her. “Rowan, looks like you need an expert.” Linda smiled, leaning in close. She was the very first person I met on campus. She had helped me carry my luggage on move in day. She was aggressively friendly, mostly because she was obsessed with recruiting me for the Debate Team. I had turned her down repeatedly. I could not even win an argument with a wall. Linda stood right in front of me, tilting her head with a challenging smirk. “Let us see what you have got, freshman. Make me blush.” I thought about it. How did I make Hazel blush back then? Right. Her ears were hyper sensitive. I deliberately stepped into Linda’s space, lowering my head so my lips were right next to her ear, and dropped my voice to a whisper. 4 “Linda, I am taller than you. With that loose top, I can see straight down.” The very next second, Linda gasped, slapped a hand over her chest, and her face turned the color of a stop sign. Gotcha. Honestly, the tank top she was wearing was skin tight. Even from a high angle, there was absolutely nothing to see. It was entirely covered. It was just a cheap, slightly sleazy bluff. I felt a little guilty. It was a trashy joke, but she was the one who wouldn’t leave me alone… whatever, I would apologize to her properly later. The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter, everyone dying to know what I whispered. I played mysterious and kept my mouth shut. Halfway through the night, I slipped away to use the restroom. The portable toilets near the edge of the athletic field were pitch black and creepy. I finished up as fast as humanly possible. As I stepped out, a shadow detached itself from the trees. “Linda, seriously, could you please stop…” trying to recruit me. Before I could finish, I realized it was Hazel. Her naturally intense face was currently dark as a thunderstorm. I instinctively tried to step around her to escape. Hazel blocked my path, her voice dripping with ice. “Rowan Pierce. Have you decided to move on to your next target?” 5 The night breeze had a sharp bite to it, rustling the leaves in the dark grove next to the field. Hazel stood right in front of me. Even dressed in an oversized orientation t-shirt, she carried an aura of cold, untouchable elegance. She looked up at me, her dark eyes churning with a storm of emotions I could not decipher. My heart skipped a beat, and I instinctively took a step back. “Hazel, what are you talking about? I do not get it.” I let out an awkward, dry laugh, trying to play it off. “Next target? We are all just classmates. It was just a game.” “A game?” Hazel took a step forward. Despite her smaller frame, it felt like she was casting a massive, terrifying shadow over me. “Rowan. The second finals ended, you blocked my number on everything. Is this what you meant when you said you had a massive crush on me?” She gritted her teeth, her voice dropping dangerously low, laced with a vulnerability she tried hard to hide. I shifted my eyes guiltily. Taking credit for that letter was a massive jerk move. Now that the real main character, Liam, was in the picture, if I did not back off gracefully, this future billionaire could ruin my life with a snap of her fingers. “Look… Hazel. I just thought I had bothered you enough during senior year. We are in college now. We should start fresh.” I took a deep breath, deciding to rip the bandage off. “Besides, did you not just tell everyone you have a boyfriend? It would be weird if I kept following you around.” Hearing the word “boyfriend,” Hazel froze. The dangerous storm in her eyes slowly dissolved, replaced by a look of sheer, baffled exhaustion. “Rowan, are you actually an idiot?” She raised her hand, looking like she wanted to aggressively poke me in the forehead. But halfway there, she stopped herself, her hand dropping to her side and curling into a tight fist. “When I said I have a boyfriend, I was talking about—” “Hazel!” A bright, cheerful voice sliced through the tension. I turned my head to see Liam jogging toward us, waving a bottle of water. “The orientation leader was looking for you! He needs you to double check the attendance sheet.” Liam stopped beside her. When he noticed me, he paused for a second before flashing a perfect, friendly smile. “Hey man, you must be Rowan, right? Hazel talks about you all the time.” My brain short circuited. Hazel talks about me? What did she say? Did she tell him how a shameless fraud harassed her for an entire year? [Here it comes! The main character and the side character face off!] [The male lead is so sweet and mature. The side character must be sweating bullets right now.] [Hazel was definitely complaining to him about how annoying Rowan is. Lol.] The comments were floating across my vision again. I swallowed hard and forced a stiff smile. “I will let you guys talk. I am going back to the dorm.” Without daring to look at Hazel’s face, I turned and practically sprinted away. That night, I had nightmares until the sun came up. I dreamed of Hazel wearing a sharp, tailored black suit, looking at me with absolute zero warmth, telling her security to throw me out on the street. Liam stood right beside her, smiling his perfect smile. I woke up drenched in cold sweat. MIT is great, but staying alive is better. I made a vow. Starting today, I was staying miles away from Hazel Brooks. My schedule was packed, and since I was actively dodging her, I managed to avoid her completely for days. Until Friday’s massive lecture class. The auditorium was packed. I finally found an empty seat in a dark corner in the back row. The second I sat down, a shadow fell over the empty desk beside me. I turned my head. Hazel was casually taking the seat, completely ignoring the stares of the guys around us. In her hands, she was holding my favorite water bottle. The one I accidentally left in the dining hall that morning.
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