My roommate catfished Zach Cole by pretending to be me. When he finally figured it out, she cornered me in our room, sobbing and begging me not to expose her. She claimed her family was in a financial crisis due to her grandmother’s terminal illness, and that she had only lied to Zach to accept his massive bank transfers—money she could never afford to pay back. In my past life, I let my pity get the better of me. I went along with the lie, stepped into her shoes, and forced myself to be with Zach. But years later, long after Janelle Miller had married a wealthy older man, Zach lost his mind. He turned his resentment on me, torturing me emotionally in our quiet home. “Did you honestly think I loved your face?” he had screamed, his eyes wild with regret. “Your looks are nothing compared to Janelle’s soul. Give her back to me!” Now, time has rewound to our senior year of college. Zach corners me at the bottom of the dorm steps. He waves his phone, displaying our supposed intimate chat history, and leans in close with a smug, familiar smirk. “Hey, baby. Why are you acting like you don’t know me?” I look at him with cold, dead eyes. “Get the fuck away from me.” 1 Zach’s expression shifted instantly into something amused and mocking. He looked down at the photo on his screen, his eyes moving back and forth to compare it to my face. “Interesting,” he murmured, a slow grin spreading across his lips. “One second you’re calling me your husband, and the next you’re telling me to screw off. Isn’t that a bit harsh, Ro?” His dark eyes gleamed with a practiced, flirtatious warmth. The casual, intimate cadence of his voice was loud enough to make several passing students turn their heads to look at us. I kept my face entirely blank. “You have the wrong person. Move.” Zach let out a sharp, disbelief-filled laugh. But he quickly softened his tone, taking a half-step closer. “Look, baby, I’m sorry. I know you said you weren’t ready to meet in person yet. But I love you too much to keep waiting. I couldn’t help myself.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone again. “Don’t be mad. Let me transfer you five thousand dollars right now. Go buy yourself something nice, and let me take you out to a proper dinner. How does that sound?” Having lived through the years of his cold indifference and eventual cruelty, seeing him act like a desperate, lovesick puppy was almost comical. “Do you even know my name?” I asked. Zach’s thumb hovered over his screen, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “Rowan?” I let out a cold, humorless laugh. “Did you bother looking at the name on the bank transfers? Because it isn’t mine.” Zach reached out, intending to pat my head, but I stepped back, letting his hand hang awkwardly in the air. His fingers curled slowly into a fist before he forced his smile back. “Stop playing, Rowan. You’re the one who told me you were using your parents’ joint account and didn’t want them seeing the transactions, so you had me wire the money to your roommate’s account instead.” I stared at him, exhausted by his density. “You’ve been talking to this girl for months. Did you ever once FaceTime her?” Zach hesitated, then slowly shook his head. “So you’ve never actually seen her face, and yet based on a few photos, you assumed the girl behind the screen was me,” I said, my voice cutting through the humid afternoon air. “You wired her over a hundred thousand dollars without a second thought. Did they skip basic internet safety during your freshman orientation? You’re the victim of a textbook romance scam. I suggest you call the police.” Zach still couldn’t wrap his head around it. Convinced I was simply throwing a tantrum because he had showed up unannounced, his expression turned pleading. “Baby, please stop. We have something real. Meeting in person was always the end goal. Besides…” He lowered his voice, a hint of entitlement creeping in. “You sent me those private photos. I couldn’t just sit around anymore. But I swear, I won’t touch you until you say it’s okay.” My chest tightened, a cold chill running down my spine. “What photos?” Zach turned his phone toward me. On the screen was a photo of a woman’s silhouette, taken through a frosted glass shower door while she was changing. It was unmistakably my back. “Come on, that’s clearly you,” Zach said, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Who else could have taken something that private? Stop teasing me.” I didn’t answer him. Instead, I swiped his screen upward to look at the chat log. Janelle had sent the photo under my name, adding a pouty emoji: [Babe, finding an internship is exhausting. Look how much weight I’ve lost.] Zach’s reply had been nearly instantaneous, followed by a transaction confirmation for twenty thousand dollars: [I can take care of you, baby. My dad just bought me a townhouse downtown with a pool. Why don’t we just move in together?] Janelle’s response: [Oh, I know exactly what you boys are after! I’m not ready yet. Let’s wait until graduation.] I let out a quiet, bitter laugh. In my past life, I had never actually looked at their chat history. I had always assumed Janelle took public photos from my social media accounts to fool him. I never realized she had been secretly photographing me in our shared space. Without another word, I took out my own phone, snapped a photo of Zach’s screen, and drafted an email to the Dean of Students. Dean Avery, a student has taken non-consensual, private photos of me in my dormitory and distributed them to third parties. I am requesting an immediate investigation. If the university cannot handle this, I will be contacting the police. 2 When I returned to the room, Janelle was pacing near the balcony, her face pale and anxious. I ignored her, setting my bag down on my desk as if nothing had happened. After a few minutes of agonizing silence, Janelle crept over to my side, her voice trembling. “Rowan… who was that guy you were talking to downstairs?” “Just some idiot who got scammed online,” I said casually. “I told him to call the police.” Janelle froze. Almost immediately, her phone began to buzz in her pocket—vibrating again and again with incoming notifications. She stared at her pocket, too terrified to pull the device out. After what felt like an eternity, she cleared her throat, her voice dry. “Rowan… we’re still best friends, right?” “Of course,” I said, turning to look at her with a gentle, empty smile. In my past life, I truly had considered her a sister. I had pitied her because of her dysfunctional family and her grandmother’s failing health. That pity was the only reason I had agreed to cover for her when Zach confronted us. Only later did I learn the truth. Janelle’s grandmother had indeed been sick, but Janelle hadn’t spent a single dollar of Zach’s money on her medical bills. Instead, she used those funds to pay for extensive plastic surgery and a master’s program abroad. By the time she returned to the country, she was entirely unrecognizable—polished, sophisticated, and beautiful. By then, my relationship with Zach was already falling apart. He constantly complained that I was too cold, too reserved, and lacked the playful warmth of the girl he had fallen in love with online. At a college reunion, surrounded by our former classmates, Zach had drunkenly scoffed at me. “Rowan’s just a trophy,” he had said, swirling his whiskey. “She’s beautiful, sure, but she has the personality of a brick. She’s nothing like the girl I talked to back in college.” I had sat there in burning humiliation. That was when Janelle, elegant and dripping in designer jewelry, had laughed softly and raised her glass. “Well, that’s because the girl you were talking to wasn’t Rowan,” Janelle had said with a conspiratorial wink. “Our Rowan is gorgeous, but she’s terribly shy. I had to act as her Cyrano to help her land you. Zach, you owe me a seat at the head table when you two finally get married.” With a few lighthearted sentences, she had rewritten her fraud as a sweet, sisterly favor. But Zach had stared at Janelle for the rest of the night, his eyes vacant and intense. When we got home, I finally confessed the entire truth to him. I thought he would understand the sacrifice I had made to protect a friend. Instead, Zach gripped my shoulders, his eyes wild with anger. “So the person I fell in love with all those nights was Janelle? Why did you lie to me, Rowan?” “You came to school demanding to see me,” I had cried, trying to pull away. “Janelle couldn’t pay back the money. If I hadn’t stepped in, she would have gone to prison—” “I fell in love with the soul behind those messages!” Zach roared, shaking me. “Not this empty shell! Do you think you’re so special just because of your face? How do you know I wouldn’t have accepted Janelle just the way she was? Her personality made you look entirely worthless.” From that night on, Zach attended every social gathering where Janelle was present. Once, when I was burning with a high fever and begged to stay home, Zach had physically dragged me out of bed and forced me into his car. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” he had sneered as we sped down the highway. “You’re trying to keep me from seeing Janelle. Why are you so desperately jealous? She literally built this relationship for you.” “I told you, I never asked her to talk to you!” I screamed through my tears, shivering from the fever. “She scammed you! She stole your money!” “Then I wish she had kept lying to me forever!” Zach snapped. I spent that dinner in a feverish daze, watching the two of them laugh and talk. By then, Janelle was far too ambitious to settle for a trust-fund kid like Zach; she had returned to the country to marry a wealthy, divorced tech executive. I realized then how pathetic I had been. I decided to leave Zach once and for all. But he couldn’t handle the rejection. On the drive back from Janelle’s wedding, blind with rage and liquor, he jerked the steering wheel and slammed the passenger side of the car directly into the highway guardrail. 3 “Rowan, my grandmother has cancer, and the hospital is threatening to stop her treatment. I was completely out of options…” I leaned my elbow on the desk, listening to Janelle spin the exact same web of lies she had woven in our previous life. Before she could finish, the door to our dorm room was pushed open. Dean Avery walked in, her expression grim. “Is everyone present?” she asked, looking around. “Who’s missing? Give me their names so I can call them back immediately.” Aside from Janelle and me, we had two other roommates. Sarah was currently cramming for the LSAT, practically living in the law library. Lily had already moved out to work on a tech startup with her boyfriend. Once the Dean called them, neither dared to delay; they both hurried back to the room within fifteen minutes. Janelle, still oblivious to the email I had sent, asked in a small, anxious voice, “Dean Avery, is something wrong?” The Dean closed the door behind her and turned to face us. “An incident has occurred. Someone in this room took a non-consensual, private photo of Rowan and distributed it online. If the person responsible steps forward now, we can handle this quietly. Otherwise, this becomes a police matter, and it will not end well for anyone involved.” Janelle’s fingers tightened around her phone so hard her knuckles turned white. Based on the layout of the bathroom shown in the photo, we quickly narrowed down the timeline to the previous weekend. Sarah immediately raised her hand. “I was at the library study room for forty-eight hours straight. I have the security swipe logs and security footage to prove I never set foot in the dorm.” Lily shook her head. “I was out of state visiting my boyfriend’s parents. I have my flight receipts.” All eyes slowly fell on Janelle. Janelle forced a fragile, nervous laugh. “Rowan, are you sure you didn’t get confused? Last weekend, you asked me to take a photo of your back so you could send it to your online boyfriend. Did he leak it?” The room fell silent. Sarah and Lily exchanged uncomfortable glances. Dean Avery looked at me, her brow furrowed in disappointment. “Rowan, is this true? The internet is a dangerous place, and sending private images to strangers is highly risky. I hope you’ve learned from this.” I let out a quiet, cold laugh. “Dean Avery, I never asked Janelle to take any photos of me. And I don’t have an online boyfriend. I have no idea why she would say that.” Janelle’s eyes widened in panic. “Rowan, you’ve been talking to Zach Cole from the neighboring campus ever since the basketball mixer! You were too shy to approach him, so I offered to help you chat with him. Have you forgotten?” I remembered that mixer. Janelle had asked me which player I thought was the most attractive, and I had casually pointed to Zach. At the time, she had laughed and pointed to Gavin Mercer, our department’s top student. “Sure, Gavin is brilliant, but Zach’s family is loaded. Look at his shoes—they cost more than my tuition. Compared to him, Gavin’s practically a charity case.” I had thought it was just typical college banter. I never expected her to weaponize that moment to cover her own crimes. I looked Janelle dead in the eye. “So, let me get this straight. Because you thought I had a mild interest in a guy, you felt entitled to secretly photograph me while I was changing, send it to him without my knowledge, pretend to be me, and solicit over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars from him?” The color drained entirely from Janelle’s face. 4 In the Dean’s office, Janelle dissolved into hysterical tears. “Rowan, please, you have to forgive me,” she sobbed, clutching at my sleeve. “In the beginning, I really did just want to help you. But before I could tell you, my grandmother got sick. You know my parents don’t care if she lives or dies, but she’s the only person in the world who ever loved me. Zach has so much money… I only used those transfers to pay her hospital bills. I’m so sorry…” Her crying was so desperate that even Dean Avery looked slightly swayed. The Dean sighed, rubbing her temples, and looked at me. “Rowan, if that photo was only sent to Zach and hasn’t been leaked publicly, maybe we should bring him in to discuss this. He’s a major party in this situation. If we can resolve this privately, it might be best for everyone.” I looked at Janelle. She hadn’t yet received the funds to go abroad or get the cosmetic procedures that would alter her square jaw and plain features. Even with her makeup, her face looked stressed and unremarkable. In my past life, Zach had sworn up and down that he would have chosen Janelle regardless of her looks because of their “soul connection.” I wondered if he would make the same choice looking at her now. I nodded at the Dean. “Let’s bring him in.” Within twenty minutes, Zach arrived. He burst into the office and rushed straight to my side, his face tense with anxiety. “Baby! What did your Dean mean on the phone? What do you mean we’re both victims? Is your roommate trying to steal the money I sent you?” He whirled around, glaring at Janelle with pure disgust. “Hey! Are you shameless? That money was for Rowan. Who the hell do you think you are, keeping it?” Hearing Zach’s harsh words, Janelle’s tears froze on her cheeks. Her throat tightened, and she felt as if the floor were tilting beneath her. For months, they had stayed up until the early hours of the morning, exchanging sweet, intimate words. [Kiss me, baby.] [I love you so much.] [It doesn’t matter if you aren’t as beautiful as your photos. I’m not that shallow.] [We are soulmates, Ro. I could never be angry with you.] Those tender words had convinced Janelle that Zach truly loved her mind. She believed his affection transcended the empty beauty of the photos she had sent. But now, he was calling her shameless in front of everyone. I watched the subtle shift in Janelle’s expression. Even while crying, she instinctively tilted her head to what she thought was her best angle, looking up at Zach with big, pleading eyes. “I’m sorry, Zach,” she whispered. “The truth is… the person you’ve been talking to this whole time isn’t Rowan. It was me. I wanted to bring you two together, but…” Zach stared at her, completely dumbfounded. Then, he let out an aggressive, defensive shout. “Don’t talk absolute garbage! Who would ever want to talk to you? Do you think I have that much free time? If you hadn’t uploaded Rowan’s student ID to the profile, I wouldn’t have given you a second of my day!” I kept my eyes fixed on Zach. He was practically vibrating with panic, desperate to distance himself from her. He looked exactly the same as he did in my past life when he was trying to shift blame—selfish, defensive, and furious that his own stupidity had been exposed. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss her, Zach,” I said, my voice smooth and deliberate. “You two spoke for months. You must have realized how compatible your personalities are. Surely you aren’t so shallow that you only care about a face? Why don’t you two just date for real?” Zach looked like he was about to blow a fuse. “Are you kidding me? She looks like a square box! Who would date that? I’d be the laughingstock of my entire family! Janelle, you are a sick, twisted freak. You used Rowan’s face because no actual guy would ever look at you. You’re going to return every single cent, or I’m suing you.” “Zach, my grandmother is dying…” Janelle whimpered. “What does your grandmother have to do with me?” Zach spat, cutting her off ruthlessly. “Does her being sick give you the right to play with my feelings? You scammed my emotions, and you scammed my money. I’m not letting this go. You pay me back, and you write a formal apology, or I will make sure you spend graduation in a jail cell!” Janelle’s face completely shattered. She took a deep breath, turning to the Dean. “Dean Avery, can Rowan step out for a moment? I want to discuss the details of the transfers with Zach privately. It’s… a very large sum, and I want to explain things clearly.” 5 I waited in the hallway for about fifteen minutes. When Zach finally stepped out of the office, his eyes lit up the moment he saw me leaning against the window sill. “Rowan! Hey, can I get your actual phone number?” I looked at him, my expression dripping with disdain. “Your ‘baby’ is in that room, Zach. Don’t go calling random girls that. It makes you look incredibly cheap.” Zach winced, looking genuinely hurt. “Rowan, I only have feelings for you. I was confused.” “Really?” I smiled coldly. “But you fell in love with Janelle’s ‘soul’ over text, didn’t you? Or were all those sweet words just a lie because you were shallowly obsessed with my face?” Zach shifted his weight, looking cornered. “Janelle told me… she said you actually had a crush on me. She said this was all just a misunderstanding. Rowan, can we just start over? Give me a real chance.” I looked at him as if he were a specimen in a biology lab. “You believe everything she tells you? Zach, is there a genuine cognitive deficit I should be aware of? Why would you assume I’d have feelings for someone who can’t even tell who he’s dating? Do I look like a charity worker to you?” Zach’s face flushed red with embarrassment, but he forced himself to maintain his polite composure. “I just got stupid because I liked you so much. Rowan, trust me, I’m a better guy than you think.” “I’m not interested,” I said, turning away. “I already like someone else. Whatever you decide to do with Janelle is your business, but I reserve the right to take legal action regarding my privacy. Now, move.” Zach’s eyes widened, panic flaring in his expression. “That’s impossible. Who could you possibly like? No one on this campus is more successful, better looking, or more devoted to you than I am.” “Gavin Mercer,” I said clearly. “Who?” “I said, the person I like is Gavin Mercer.” The moment the words left my mouth, a tall figure rounded the corner of the hallway. Gavin was carrying a thick stack of research binders, his posture straight and disciplined. Hearing his name, he stopped, his clean, calm gaze falling on my face. His eyes lingered on me for a fraction of a second before he turned to the office door, knocking politely. “Dean Avery, I’m Gavin Mercer. You asked to see me about the department seminar?” I watched his back as he stepped into the room, my heart aching with a sudden, sharp grief. In my past life, when Zach had crashed our car and fled the scene to save his own skin, Gavin’s car had been right behind us. The vehicle had caught fire, and I was trapped inside, unconscious. Gavin had thrown himself into the flames, burning his hands to the bone as he desperately pried open the twisted metal of the passenger door, screaming my name over and over. “Rowan, wake up! Please, don’t close your eyes! I’m getting you out!” His hot tears had fallen on my face, the only cold sensation in a world of burning heat. At that point in his life, Gavin was a highly successful entrepreneur whose tech company was about to go public. He had everything to live for. I had never understood why he would risk his life for me. Perhaps in this life, I would finally find out.
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