My ex-boyfriend, Julian Blackwood, sweet-talked me into taking nude photos. He promised they were just for him to cherish. I was a little worried, but also secretly thrilled I’d finally ‘won over’ Julian. Until one day, Chloe, a scholarship student, and I were competing for first place. Julian said, ” let her win.” “You don’t want those photos plastered all over the internet, do you?” I froze, nodding numbly. Seven days later, Chloe won first place as planned. Julian deleted all the photos. A huge weight lifted from my chest, and I boarded a plane out of the country. All those years, I’d consider them just wasted. Julian’s words were casual, almost dismissive. “You agree, and all the photos are deleted.” It was the peak of summer, unbearably hot. Yet, a wave of icy dread washed over me, like a punch to the gut. I opened my mouth, my voice trembling. “But you promised me…” Julian cut me off. “Yes, I promised only I would see them.” His gaze was unwavering, his tone low and deliberate. “I won’t break my word.” “Just let Chloe win first place.” I argued stubbornly, my words fragmented. “The singing competition… it’s supposed to be about talent.” “I… won’t give it up.” Julian seemed to have expected my resistance. He pulled my chair closer, encircling me in his arms. Then, he took out his phone. He took my hand and pressed it to unlock his private album. Explicit images flashed across the screen. Julian chuckled softly. “Whisper, your body is truly perfect.” His lips brushed my ear. “This one’s my favorite. You’re all flushed, mouth slightly open, looking at the camera.” “Like a plaything used up and tossed aside…” My fingertips trembled, a sob catching in my throat. “Don’t look.” Julian paused, switching off the screen. His thumb was warm as he wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “Good girl, don’t be scared. Do you agree?” My fingers unconsciously tightened, my mind a blank. “Okay.” Julian’s eyes curved into a satisfied smile as he stood up. He smoothed my disheveled hair, speaking softly as if nothing had happened. “There’s a class gathering tonight. I won’t be coming home with you.” “I’ll have the driver take you.”
The air conditioning in the vocal classroom was blasting. I pulled my jacket tighter, curling up in the chair. So cold, so incredibly cold. I covered my mouth, stifling my sobs. Julian was the person I trusted most. When I was seven, my parents brought me from our small, rundown house in the countryside to a glittering mansion in the city. But I couldn’t fit in. I was scrawny, small, and always felt out of place. I was constantly bullied. I’d just hide and cry. I thought if I didn’t fight back, they’d leave me alone. Until that day, a group of boys tried to pull down my pants. I cried out, grabbing a dead tree branch. “Don’t… don’t come closer!” They didn’t stop, only grew bolder. That’s when Julian appeared. He brandished a brick, chasing them all away. Then, he offered me his hand. “Whisper, I’ll take you home.” But my legs were like jelly; I couldn’t stand. Julian frowned, a sour look on his face. But he still crouched down. “Get on.” I hesitated for a moment, then climbed onto his back. He carried me, walking with a steady, determined pace. After that, I always shyly followed Julian. For eleven years. Until Freshman Orientation Week ended in college. I gathered all my courage and confessed my feelings. Perhaps Julian’s heart softened. He looked at me with a smile, a regal nod of his head. So, when Julian suggested taking photos. I fought back my fear, asking softly, “Will… will others see them?” Julian held up the camera, gently reassuring me. “No, I’ll keep them treasured.” I hesitated for a moment, then slipped off my nightgown. Posing again and again. But now, that once-cherished intimacy had turned into a blade, stabbing me. I had trusted Julian so much. I finally couldn’t hold it in anymore, bursting into loud sobs. I don’t know how long passed, until no more tears would fall. Julian sent a SnapChat message. He was as thoughtful as ever, reminding me carefully, “You cried today, your throat will be sore.” “Remember to drink honey water when you get back.” I clutched my phone, stumbling home in a daze. On the way, I almost crashed into a big truck. My whole body felt numb, and I tremblingly entered my room’s password. The living room was pitch black. I didn’t turn on the lights, just sat on the sofa, hugging my knees. The clock ticked, hour after hour. The SnapChat notification sound rang out. I mechanically opened it. My best friend, Skylar, her voice serious, “Whisper, tell me the truth.” “Did Julian… take nude photos of you?”
Shame and a suffocating dread washed over me all at once. I frantically turned off the screen. I had promised… The screen lit up again. It was a video from Skylar. My hands trembling, I tapped to play it. In a dimly lit private lounge. Julian was holding a cigarette, his voice lazy. “Don’t worry, first place in the singing competition will definitely be yours.” Chloe, the scholarship student, sat beside him. They were incredibly close. Chloe forced a strained smile. “Don’t joke, Whisper is so pretty and her family is rich, I can’t possibly beat her.” Julian stared at her, lost in thought for a long moment. As if completely captivated. After a while, he spoke faintly. “She wouldn’t dare.” Chloe grabbed his hand, blinking. “Why not?” Julian fell silent. Chloe wasn’t in a hurry. She just reached out to touch a glass of wine on the table. The ambient lights flickered suggestively. Julian sighed, catching her hand. “You’re on your period, good girl, no drinking.” Chloe blinked, gazing steadily at him. Julian crumbled instantly. He squeezed Chloe’s cheek, a helpless smile on his face. “I have nude photos of her.” “Is that enough, my little queen?” The video ended. My heart felt like a gaping hole. Filled with sulfur by Julian’s own hands. Burning with excruciating pain. Skylar’s voice message continued. “Whisper, did you and Julian have a fight?” “How could he…” “And who’s that girl next to him?” “Did he… did he really take nude photos of you?” My throat felt like it was sealed with cement. I wanted to tell Skylar not to worry. But when I opened my mouth, no sound came out. I typed instead. “No, he was just joking.” “Are you still working? Go home early.” My head throbbed, and I collapsed onto the sofa. Chloe… Chloe… I closed my eyes, letting the tears fall freely. During Freshman Orientation Week, Chloe was the freshman representative. She wore a neat ponytail, speaking at the podium. Her voice was strong and clear, her demeanor poised and confident. At that time, I was suffering from heatstroke. Weakly leaning against Julian’s chest. He fanned me, chuckling. “Look at her, full of energy.” “You’re like a sick kitten.” “How will you ever survive without me?” My head was spinning, and I glanced at Chloe. “Julian, I want a popsicle.” Julian poked my forehead, a smirk on his face. “No, you’ll get a stomach ache.” I murmured, burying my head in his neck. Pushing Chloe from my mind. But it turned out Chloe was also a music student. She was cheerful and outgoing, full of passion. As if she had endless energy. And she got along with everyone in the class. Julian would come to pick me up after class, teasing, “I wish you had that much vitality.” At first, I didn’t think much of it. But later, Julian started mentioning her more and more often. The honey water he specifically brought for me. He’d also conveniently give a portion to her. I got angry, questioning him, “Why are you so good to her?” Julian crossed his long legs, rubbing his temples. “Whisper, it’s tough for a scholarship student to pursue music.” “She’s having a hard time, she just pretends to be happy.” “It’s just honey water, what’s the big deal?” But gradually, it wasn’t just honey water. Desserts, snacks, afternoon tea… Julian and I argued more and more. He always said Chloe was pitiful. And that I should be considerate towards her. Until today. Julian, for her sake, threw caution to the wind. My humiliation, my privacy. All became his bargaining chips to win Chloe’s favor. I stared at a solitary star outside the window. I didn’t understand what I had done wrong. Why Julian didn’t want me anymore… I bit my wrist, my mouth filling with a salty, metallic taste. Until the coppery tang of blood emerged. I wearily released my bite. It hurt, so much. I didn’t want to experience this anymore. Julian was right. I was timid and weak. Whenever something happened, I always wanted to retreat into my shell. But I didn’t want to be sad anymore. I opened my phone and booked a flight out of the country for seven days later.
I lay in bed. My temples throbbed relentlessly. But I couldn’t sleep. I took out my phone, searching repeatedly. “What to do if your boyfriend takes nude photos?” “Will my boyfriend send out my photos?” “Intimate photos leaked by boyfriend.” … I read about similar experiences. My heart ached, making it hard to breathe. I pulled the blanket tighter, my fingers stiff as I clicked, “How to save yourself if intimate photos are spread?” The guides were all well-written. Tell family, friends, seek help… Light and airy. It looked so simple. I mentally rehearsed it again and again. But none of it would work for Julian. He wasn’t afraid of anything. And he could handle anything. Tears soaked my pillow. Until I couldn’t hold on any longer and passed out. My sleep was restless. In a hazy dream, I heard the click of a camera.
I jolted awake, clutching my blanket. The room was dim. Only the red light of a camera flashed. Julian was hidden in the shadows. A smile played on his lips, his eyes flushed with a hint of intoxication. “So beautiful.” I jumped out of bed, reaching out to hide. But Julian easily pulled me into his arms. The scent of perfume mixed with smoke rushed into my nostrils. I coughed uncontrollably. Julian tightened his hold, his voice deep. “Don’t move.” “I missed you so much.” My nerves were stretched taut, like a string being plucked repeatedly. I grabbed his sleeve, my voice hoarse. “Delete… them.” Julian pressed me onto his lap. “What’s wrong with your throat?” “Didn’t you drink honey water last night?” “The driver said he couldn’t pick you up, are you still angry?” My stomach churned, a wave of nausea rising. I silently dug my nails into my palms. Struggling to get off his lap. Julian sighed, seemingly helpless. “I saw your phone.” My muddled thoughts briefly cleared. My whole body trembled. My flight ticket… Julian gently patted my back. “Did your friend tell on me?” “Yes, I took Chloe to the class gathering last night.” “It was her birthday, and she had no one to celebrate with. It was just a convenience.” “Whisper, don’t overthink it.” I lost all strength, my voice barely a whisper. “Julian, please delete the photos you just took, okay?” “I don’t like it. I don’t want to take them.” Julian froze. His voice grew cold, laced with anger. “Still making a fuss?” “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.” “How many times have I told you? I just feel sorry for Chloe.” “Niamh Carter, I won’t tolerate you every time.” Julian’s lips moved. Accusations tumbled out, one after another. Like heavy blows raining down on me. Leaving no room for escape. I pushed him away, rushing to the bathroom. My throat burned. I bent over in agony. But I hadn’t eaten all day. Only bitter bile came up. Behind me, hurried footsteps sounded. Julian scooped me up in his arms. His lips were tightly pressed, his expression anxious. “Didn’t you eat properly again?” “I’ll take you to the hospital.” I clutched his collar, sobbing. “No, don’t. Please.” “Julian, please delete the photos, okay?” He looked down, staring at my swollen eyes. A flicker of struggle crossed his face. But the next moment. Julian’s phone, left on the table, rang. He glanced at it, and instantly snapped back to reality. He placed me on the bed, handing me a camera. “I’ll call the family doctor over.” “You rest well.” “You can delete whatever you want from *this* camera.” “As for the nude photos…” Julian paused, tucking the blanket around me. “I’ll delete them for you after the competition ends in seven days.” He stood up, answering the call. His voice was incredibly gentle. “What’s wrong?” “Stay put, I’m coming to you.” The bedroom door was slammed shut. Faintly. I heard Chloe’s cries. The camera felt heavy. A dead weight in my hand. On the screen were photos of me sleeping just now.
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