Author: Momo Chan

My parents’ marriage was a business arrangement, entirely devoid of love. My mom would make out with her young boy toys right in front of my dad, and my dad brazenly photoshopped his “the one that got away” into our family portrait and used it as his phone’s lock screen. The only reason they didn’t divorce was because they wanted to give me a “complete family.” But recently, the winds have shifted. My dad’s first love moved back to the States. And the high school sweetheart my mom thought was dead? He’s alive. So, they started talking about divorce. But they both wanted full custody of me. In court, my mom pulled out a kitchen knife, threatening to remove her uterus on the spot to prove she wouldn’t have any more kids. My dad pulled out a pair of scissors, threatening to castrate himself. I was incredibly moved by their love for me. 1 When my grandma caught them, I was reading a comic book, and my mom was making out with her new boy toy. My grandma was so furious she immediately called my dad, demanding he come over right away. My mom wasn’t scared in the slightest. She just kept flirting with her new boy toy. I called her new boy toy “Uncle Tommy.” When I got tired of reading my comic book, Uncle Tommy would read it to me. My grandma stood to the side, furious, yelling at my mom. She called her a tramp and said the Sterling family didn’t owe her anything. 2 My mom wasn’t about to back down. Hands on her hips, she started screaming right back. My grandma finally snapped: “Enough! We’ll talk when my son gets here. You two are getting a divorce today!” My mom rolled her eyes: “You better make sure your son actually divorces me.” My parents’ marriage was a corporate merger. When they got married, both families’ businesses were booming. But soon after, my maternal grandparents’ company went bankrupt. The reasons for the collapse were complicated, anyway. My mom had always wanted to divorce my dad. They both had other people they loved. My dad was in love with a poor college student he met years ago. He considered her the love of his life, his “White Moonlight.” He even photoshopped a picture of her into our family portrait and made it his phone background. Originally, he just photoshopped her into a picture of him and me, but I wasn’t happy about it. I wouldn’t allow a picture without my mom in it. So, he photoshopped her into a picture of the three of us instead. 3 My mom was in love with a poor college student too; they were each other’s first loves. But her college sweetheart joined the military and died on a mission. Ever since then, every young guy my mom dated looked a bit like him. I knew she was mourning her first love. Both my parents were very sentimental people. My dad arrived quickly. He walked right over, picked me up, gave me a bunch of kisses, and called me his precious baby. I was super happy too, hugging him and asking for a piggyback ride. My grandma immediately chimed in: “Son, your wife doesn’t even bother hiding her affairs anymore. You have to divorce her! If she doesn’t care about her dignity, we still care about ours.” My dad was furious: “Sarah, are you insane? Cuckolding me in broad daylight!” My mom rolled her eyes: “He’s our daughter’s playmate.” My dad’s attitude instantly softened. He nodded at Uncle Tommy and said, “Thanks for your hard work. Take good care of my daughter, and I’ll give you a raise.” My grandma looked like she was about to explode: “Hudson Sterling, I demand you divorce her!” My dad looked torn: “Mom, if I divorce her, she’ll steal my daughter!” My mom rolled her eyes again: “She’s my daughter to begin with! Why should you get her?” “She’s my daughter too!” “Bullshit! She came out of my body!” “Stop using that as an excuse. After she was born, I was the one changing her diapers and raising her! Now that she’s walking and talking, you want to swoop in and take the credit! And how do you even take care of her? You’re always hiring these ‘playmates.’ Is that how a mother acts?” My mom fired right back: “Oh, so you’re the expert? Then you take care of her! If it weren’t for you never being around, would I have to hire playmates? It’s easy for you to stand there and criticize.” 4 I looked at my dad, then at my mom. I was just about to tell them to stop fighting. But both their phones rang at the exact same time. I saw the caller ID on my dad’s phone: “Vivian.” “Hudson, I’m back in the States,” my dad said, reading the message aloud. “Can you come pick me up at the airport?” Vivian—my dad’s “White Moonlight.” The eternal pain in his heart. My dad was speechless. My mom suddenly choked back a sob: “Arthur, you’re not dead!” Arthur. Arthur Stone. My mom’s first love. Every Memorial Day, she would make me stand in front of his gravestone and call him “Daddy.” My mom’s reasoning was that Mr. Stone died without any children to carry on his legacy, and she was worried he wouldn’t have any money to spend in the afterlife. So, she had me pretend to be his daughter to burn some paper money for him… 5 The sudden silence was the scariest part. My parents looked at each other, then in perfect sync, they looked away. I said: “Mom, Dad, I’m hungry.” My grandma was fuming, yelling at my dad that a piece of burnt toast would be better than him. She insisted they get a divorce. But they decided to take me out to eat first. Uncle Tommy came along to take care of me. He was so quiet you could barely hear him breathe. He smiled apologetically at my dad, acted subserviently to my mom, and took meticulous care of me. At the dinner table, I was the only one actually eating. My parents were both glued to their phones—one second looking devastated, the next sighing heavily, and then looking conflicted. I knew they were both mourning their respective romances. I felt a little bad for them. 6 After eating, I got a “food coma” and drowsily fell asleep. I felt my dad pick me up, and I snuggled comfortably into his arms and slept. I didn’t wake up until the afternoon. I yawned. I climbed out of bed, drank a huge glass of water, and went downstairs. Downstairs, my parents were discussing the divorce. My dad said: “Vivian is back. I have to give her a home.” This time, my mom didn’t mock him. She also looked heartbroken and said: “Arthur isn’t dead. He was undercover all these years, relying on our love to keep him going. I can’t let him down.” They spoke in unison: “Our daughter…” And then they stopped talking again. My dad spoke first: “I’ll give you half my personal assets, and you can take all our joint property. Leave our daughter with me. You’re still young; you can have more kids.” My mom countered: “I’ll leave with nothing, and I’ll pay you twenty thousand a month in child support. You give me our daughter.” They both scoffed at each other simultaneously: “In your dreams! You piece of trash!” 7 The dynamic in the house had completely flipped. Before, they wanted to divorce too. Before, when my mom kissed her boy toys in front of my dad, he would viciously declare he wanted a divorce. When my dad looked at the photos of his first love in front of my mom, looking depressed and saying, “Vivian, I’m so sorry,” my mom would also say she wanted a divorce. But the moment the issue of custody came up, they would both back down. Because they both knew the other was a terrible person, and compromise was absolutely impossible. Now, they were constantly raising the stakes, desperate to get a divorce but equally desperate to win full custody of me. 8 I didn’t know if they were actually going to get divorced. Honestly, deep down, I definitely didn’t want them to. But I knew they didn’t love each other. Sometimes, when my mom went to church, her prayer was always that my dad would get into a car accident and die so she could inherit a massive fortune. My dad was even worse. He actively encouraged my mom to take up extreme sports, promising he would take great care of me if anything happened. They both truly loved the people outside this marriage. When my mom was with her young boy toys, she acted much more delicate and feminine. But when she was with my dad, she was as awful as could be. She acted like a crazy person. Whenever my dad looked at his first love, his eyes were always deep and full of pain. I really wanted them to be happy, not to sacrifice themselves for me. I was getting older now, and I knew I shouldn’t be too selfish. Especially since they loved me so much, I couldn’t be selfish anymore. 9 My dad secretly asked me: “Sweetheart, if Mom and I get a divorce, and the judge asks you who you want to live with, who would you choose?” I said: “I’d choose you, Dad.” He was so moved his eyes instantly turned red. He hugged me tight, and I hugged him back. We had such a deep father-daughter bond. My mom asked me too: “Sweetheart, would you choose to stay with Mom?” I immediately said: “I’ll stay with you, Mom. We’ll never be apart.” My mom started wiping away tears too, swearing she would absolutely never leave me. 10 My mom took me to meet her first love. Mr. Stone was very tall and imposing, completely unlike the young boy toys I had seen before. He was very warm toward me, picking me up to play as soon as he saw me, and even brought me presents. When he looked at me, his gaze was restrained yet full of deep affection. He promised my mom: “Sarah, don’t worry. From now on, I’ll be so good to you and your daughter. I’m never taking another undercover mission again.” My mom said: “Arthur, I’m never having another child in this lifetime. I only have one daughter, and I can’t bear the thought of anyone making her feel unwanted or second best.” I was so moved. This was my mom. “I agree. We already have our little Dumpling, we don’t need any more kids. I couldn’t bear to see you suffer through childbirth anyway.” Mr. Stone said to me: “Precious, hurry up and call me Daddy. I am your daddy. Daddy had to go on a mission back then, which is why I had to leave your mommy. Daddy didn’t know you existed yet.” Me: “…” I distinctly remember my grandma taking my hair and my dad’s hair to do multiple paternity tests. Calling my mom’s first love “Daddy” felt like a bit of a betrayal to my actual dad. But looking at my mom’s expectant eyes, I couldn’t bear to break her heart, just like she couldn’t bear to break mine. I also remembered that I had already been calling him “Dad” in front of his gravestone for years anyway. There was no reason I couldn’t call a living person the same thing. So I steeled myself and called out: “Daddy!” He was so moved tears streamed down his face. His voice trembled as he said: “Daddy knows you used to sweep my grave. From now on, Daddy will stay right by your side and watch you grow up.” My mouth fell open in shock. They hugged me, cuddling together, and started planning our happy future life. 11 Mr. Stone was in the military. They planned that after my mom’s divorce, we would move to the military base housing. Mr. Stone said they had everything there, including lots of other kids for me to play with. My mom said she would cook dinner every day and wait for him to come home. I remembered that my mom couldn’t even fry an egg. Once, my dad had a sudden whim to cook for me. My mom, afraid he would win me over, relentlessly mocked him. My dad was a bit flustered, and a bottle of soy sauce tipped over. My mom didn’t help; she immediately pulled out her phone, started recording a video, and sarcastically commented on how clumsy he was. My dad was busy trying to salvage the burnt beef. I was the one who picked up the soy sauce bottle. Mr. Stone was very moved. I raised my little hand and asked: “Uncle—I mean, Daddy, can we hire a nanny?” Mr. Stone said apologetically: “Sweetheart, there aren’t enough rooms there for a nanny to live with us.” My mom said affectionately: “I don’t want strangers in our house anyway. I just want our family of three to be together.” I fell into deep thought… 12 My dad also took me to meet his “White Moonlight.” Aunt Vivian was incredibly beautiful. She spoke very softly and smelled amazing. Under my dad’s expectant gaze, I hardened my heart and called out: “Mommy!” Aunt Vivian swore to my dad: “Hudson, don’t worry. I will absolutely take good care of Dumpling and be the best stepmother I can be.” My dad was very moved: “Vivian, you’re really lucky. Being with me means you get such a well-behaved, sensible daughter.” I felt Aunt Vivian’s arms stiffen slightly around me. Then my dad continued: “Vivian, I hope that after we get married, you’ll get your tubes tied. I am absolutely forbidding you from having any children. I only have one daughter, and I don’t want anyone making her feel unwanted or second best.” I was so moved. This was my dad. My dad added: “Of course, I’ll get a vasectomy too.” Aunt Vivian completely froze: “You never plan on having any more kids?” My dad looked at me lovingly: “Yes. I have Dumpling. No matter if we had a son or another daughter, she would feel slighted, and I can’t bear that.” My dad then said: “By the way, I hope the structure of our family doesn’t change too much. When Sarah was here, she was a full-time stay-at-home mom.” Speaking of my mom, my dad’s brows furrowed deeply, though he quickly masked it. Obviously, he wasn’t very satisfied with my mom’s parenting performance. My dad smiled and praised my mom: “Look at how well she raised little Dumpling. Vivian, I hope that after we get married, you won’t work either and just focus on taking care of Dumpling. Also, you should get some certifications first—maybe in child psychology and pediatric nursing. You need to be even more familiar with Dumpling’s coursework than she is so you can tutor her.” My dad looked at Aunt Vivian encouragingly: “I know you’re incredibly smart and capable of learning anything. You’ll definitely excel at this. And, of course, I’ll give you a monthly allowance.” My dad had also demanded my mom get certifications and tutor me in piano, horseback riding, golf, English, French, and Spanish. My mom had told him to screw off. Aunt Vivian’s face was stiff, and she said she needed to go to the restroom. When she came back, she was a new woman. She nodded and said: “I will do my best. For you, Hudson, I’m willing to do anything.” My dad said: “Our family of three is going to be incredibly happy.” Me: “…” 13 My parents’ divorce was turning into a massive spectacle. They would negotiate for 5 minutes every day, and then spend the next hour screaming at each other. Sometimes I would sit nearby and watch, even playing the piano for them. When they were calm, I’d play “Mariage d’Amour.” When they started arguing, I’d play “Croatian Rhapsody.” I couldn’t participate in their fights, but I could provide the soundtrack. We were a family, so we should do things together. Including fighting. My kindergarten teacher asked us to draw a picture of our family. I drew three families on one piece of paper. They were all my family. My mom, Mr. Stone, and me. My dad, my mom, and me. My dad, Aunt Vivian, and me. If you did the math on the permutations and combinations, Mr. Stone and Aunt Vivian could also give me a family. I fell into deep thought. My drawing won the “Most Creative Award,” and then my parents were called into the school for a very long talk with the teacher. Afterward, the teacher hugged me and said: “You’ve suffered so much, sweetie. If you ever feel unwanted in the future, come to me. I’ll give you a home.” Me: “…Thank you, Mrs. Smith.” 14 My parents’ divorce was going to court. They wanted a judge to make the most impartial ruling. In the courtroom, I sat in the gallery. Because they wouldn’t let me sit next to the other person, fearing it would influence the judge’s decision. My mom cried bitterly, talking about how hard her life had been, what a scumbag my dad was, and how she was essentially a single mother raising me alone. My dad also started wiping his eyes, talking about how promiscuous my mom was, how she constantly cheated, and he even brought out the notebooks he kept on how to raise a child. My mom pulled out her ultimate move, declaring she would have her uterus removed, swearing she would only ever have me as a child, and begging the judge to grant her custody. My dad pulled out a pair of scissors. The judge jumped in shock, almost diving under the desk. The judge said: “Sir, please calm down.” My dad stood up, glaring viciously at my mom: “Sarah, you crazy bitch! Watch me! I’ll castrate myself right now! I will only ever have Dumpling in this lifetime too!” Saying that, my dad raised the scissors, aiming at his crotch… 15 My mom wasn’t going to be outdone. Unable to find a prop, she dragged Mr. Stone forward. She immediately declared: “Your Honor, since I plan on marrying him, I can’t prove my determination to you right now, but my future husband can!” After saying that, she looked expectantly at Mr. Stone. The judge’s eyes widened in horror, staring at Mr. Stone. Everyone was staring at Mr. Stone. He squeezed his eyes shut and said: “If he castrates himself first, I will too.” My dad immediately froze. He pulled Aunt Vivian up. He told the judge: “Your Honor, this is my future wife, and she is also willing to have her uterus removed!” The judge’s face was a picture of pure, utter confusion. My dad nudged Aunt Vivian, prompting her to state her position. Aunt Vivian closed her eyes too: “I am also willing.” I watched them seriously. These were my family members. Eventually, the bailiffs had to intervene to prevent a bloodbath in the courtroom. 16 My parents, Mr. Stone, and Aunt Vivian agreed to all go to the hospital together tomorrow. Whoever didn’t show up would be admitting defeat. I felt very excited. I looked up at this group of adults with genuine admiration. They were all so cool! My parents were supposed to drive me home. Whenever we went out as a family, we always took the Toyota Sienna minivan. After I climbed in, my mom said to Mr. Stone: “Arthur, come home with me. Spend some time with little Dumpling so she gets used to you.” My dad immediately countered: “Vivian, you come back with me too.” And so, they both got in the car. The silence in the car was terrifying. The driver kept glancing nervously in the rearview mirror. I sat in the back, lowered the tray table, and started doing my homework. I really envied adults. They got to spend all day talking about love and romance, and they never had to do homework. 17 Mr. Stone had a month-long leave this time. So he just moved straight into our house. Aunt Vivian wasn’t working, so she moved in too. I was thrilled. The house was full of people and lively. Mr. Stone had to “talk” with my dad. Aunt Vivian had to “talk” with my mom. I was in the study taking my French lesson. When my lesson was over and I went downstairs, they were already in a full-blown brawl. My grandma happened to walk in at that exact moment. She almost fainted from anger, screaming: “What are you doing! Stop it right now!” My mom’s hair was a rat’s nest, and Aunt Vivian had a massive handprint on her face. My dad had a bruise on his jaw. Mr. Stone had been shielding my mom, so he wasn’t hurt. Truly living up to his reputation as an elite soldier! 18 My grandma was absolutely furious. Upon hearing that the two “guests” in the house were my parents’ future spouses, she practically passed out again. That afternoon, my grandma brought a woman to our house, announcing this was the new wife she had chosen for my dad. My mom, applying lipstick nearby, glanced over and said: “Take a seat. There are two people ahead of you in line. Number one hasn’t divorced him yet, and number two is waiting in the wings.” The woman said directly: “It doesn’t matter. I can compete for the position. I heard things are pretty straightforward here, so let’s cut to the chase. What are the requirements?” Aunt Vivian, sipping tea nearby, said breezily: “Women have to get their uterus removed, and men have to castrate themselves.” The woman’s mouth twitched: “You’re all psychos.” And she ran away. My grandma was livid. She dragged me into my room. She started badmouthing my mom again: “Little Dumpling, when your parents divorce, you absolutely must not go with your mom. Once she gets a new husband, she won’t love you anymore. She’ll have her own new kids.” I said: “My mom said she’s only ever having me. She’s going to get her uterus removed.” I looked at my grandma and continued: “And my dad is going to castrate himself!” My grandma clutched her chest. This time, she searched my room frantically for a long time, finally grabbing a heavy French dictionary, and charged out. I excitedly chased after her.

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I was just being polite to the neighbor: “Your grandson is so cute, I want one too.” When I came home for summer break, my parents had miraculously produced a baby brother for me. “Your wish came true, so he was born. You have to take responsibility for him!” My parents immediately washed their hands of everything, and my brother’s entire life became my burden. From potty training to homework, from his first car to the down payment on his house. Later, because I couldn’t afford to buy him a house, my brother brutally murdered me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I complimented the neighbor’s grandson. “Wow, your grandson is so cute, I want…” My parents exchanged a look, their eyes gleaming with calculation. I paused for a second: “I want a luxury mansion!” “I want a sports car and a yacht!” “I want to study abroad!” “I want a billion dollars in cash!” 1 Our neighbor, Mrs. Davis, brought her little grandson over to play. My mom observed my expression while dropping hints: “Maya, look how cute this little guy is! If you had a cute little brother like this, I’d wake up laughing from my dreams!” I scoffed inwardly. Having lived through this once, I knew perfectly well that this had nothing to do with what I wanted. The “little brother” in my mom’s belly was already well on his way. This “old and young” tag team acting out this little play right in front of me was just a setup. They wanted to trick me into saying, “I want a little brother too,” so they could dump the massive responsibility of raising him squarely onto my shoulders. In my past life, I fell for it completely. Just because I politely said, “Your grandson is so cute, I want a little brother too,” my parents happily abdicated all their responsibilities the moment he was born. They dumped my brother on me, forcing me to handle every aspect of his daily life. As he grew up, I was the one paying for his school, his job hunting, his car, his house. I carried it all alone. If I dared to show even a hint of reluctance, they would immediately start laying on the guilt trips. “Your wish came true, so your brother was born. You must take responsibility for his life!” My wish caused a pregnancy? Their excuses for wanting a son were more creative than my college thesis. But the tragedy was, through their daily brainwashing, my brother actually believed them. When he failed a test, he blamed me for not finding him a good tutor; When he couldn’t find a job, he blamed me for not using my connections; When he couldn’t afford a house, he blamed me for not working hard enough. Even at the very end, as he lunged at me with a knife, he roared: “If you don’t have money, why did you have me born?! It’s all your fault! If it wasn’t for your stupid wish, I wouldn’t have been brought into this hellhole world to suffer! Go to hell!” The brother I raised from childhood raised a knife and brutally murdered me. And my parents? They actually signed a legal waiver pledging not to hold him accountable. I was the only one who suffered in that timeline. In this life, I will absolutely not repeat the same mistakes. Seeing my silence, Mrs. Davis pushed her grandson forward a bit: “Timmy. Quick, call her big sister! Let your big sister hold you.” The kid looked at me blankly. Mrs. Davis struck while the iron was hot: “Maya, look how lovable this little guy is. You should tell your mom to give you a little brother too.” My mom held her breath, staring intently at my mouth. She practically had “Say you want a little brother” written across her forehead. I smiled: “Wow, he’s so cute, I want…” A massive surge of joy erupted in my parents’ eyes; they both instinctively leaned forward. “I want a luxury mansion!” “I want a sports car and a yacht!” “I want to study abroad!” “I want a billion dollars in cash!” The living room fell dead silent. The smile froze on Mrs. Davis’s face. My mom’s jaw dropped in shock. My dad’s hand trembled so much while pouring tea that the hot water splashed all over the coffee table. “You kid, what kind of nonsense are you talking about!” My mom recovered first, her face burning, embarrassed and angry. My dad’s face was dark. He put down the teapot, his voice harsh: “Maya, stop joking around. We’re talking about serious matters.” I blinked innocently: “What serious matters?” “Mrs. Davis asked if you wanted a little brother, what do you think?” I played dumb: “If I want something, I can just have it?” My parents: “Yes, whatever you want, we’ll do everything in our power to give it to you.” Me: “That’s amazing! Like I said, I want a luxury mansion, a sports car, a yacht, to study abroad, and a billion dollars in cash. Which one are you going to give me first?” My parents remained silent. I raised my voice: “I said! I want a luxury mansion! I want a sports car and a yacht…” “Enough!” my mom interrupted shrilly. The fake smiles on their faces completely vanished. 2 Mrs. Davis awkwardly made an excuse and hurried out with her grandson. As soon as the door closed, my mom rushed up to me, pretending to be concerned: “Maya, tell me the truth, do you want a biological little brother?” “No.” I said firmly. “Mom is thinking of your future! With another sibling, you’ll have someone to look out for you later in life.” She tried to paint a beautiful picture of familial bonds. “I have friends, I have a boyfriend. I don’t need a little brother causing trouble.” I kept my face expressionless, casually picking up an apple from the table and taking a bite. My dad chimed in, using his parental authority: “What do you know! When you get married, if you don’t have a brother to back you up, your in-laws will take advantage of you!” “Oh, then I just won’t get married.” I chewed the apple, my voice slightly muffled but perfectly clear. “I’ll just date and never marry. Total freedom.” My mom blurted out: “Even better! Then your brother can take care of you when you’re old!” Heh, there it is. The truth comes out. They didn’t care at all if I had a good life; they just desperately wanted a son. I gave a fake smile: “If I have to rely on a brother to take care of me, I might as well just go die right now.” My parents: “Even if you don’t think about yourself, you have to think about us. A son is like a nuclear weapon; without a son, we’ll get bullied. Your dad and I have been looked down on our whole lives, it’s time we finally held our heads high.” I dismantled their arguments one by one: “Don’t worry, by the time your ‘nuclear weapon’ grows up, you’ll both be in your seventies or eighties. Forget about people bullying you, even if you fell on the street, no one would dare help you up for fear of getting sued!” My dad’s face turned the color of a bruised plum. He slammed his hand on the table: “Insolent! Is this how you speak to your parents? We want a son to carry on the family name, and it’s perfectly natural! As the older sister, helping out your brother is your duty! It’s expected of you!” I threw my hands up: “I can help him, but on one condition: you stop him from being born.” “Our family is dead broke, and you two don’t even have a retirement fund. Bringing a kid into the world now is just setting him up for misery.” Seeing that playing hardball wasn’t working, my mom instantly switched tactics. She cradled her barely showing belly and looked like she was about to cry: “Look, Mom is getting older. The baby in my belly is already four months along. I can feel him kicking. Besides, an abortion is terrible for a woman’s body. Don’t you care about your mom’s health?” “Care?” I sneered, my tone sharp as a knife. “When you were doing the deed, did you think about your health? You didn’t use protection, and now that the fun is over, you suddenly want me to feel bad for your body? You couldn’t keep your pants zipped and created this mess yourself, now figure out how to deal with it. Don’t try to guilt-trip me!” My parents never expected me to be so blunt. Their faces went through a spectacular cycle of colors—green, red, purple. My dad was furious: “We’re keeping this child!” Finally showing their true colors! 3 Looking at their infuriated but helpless faces, I knew the moment had arrived. I whipped out my phone like lightning, switched to video mode, and pointed the camera straight at my stunned parents. “You should have just said you wanted to have a baby in the first place. Why go through all the trouble of trying to blame it on me?” “Future little brother, are you watching? I adamantly opposed Mom and Dad bringing you into this world; they are the ones insisting on it. If your life sucks in the future, take it up with Mom and Dad. It has absolutely nothing to do with your sister.” “Our family doesn’t have an empire for you to inherit, only pots and pans in the kitchen. Once you’re born, you’re just fresh meat for the corporate grinder, a wage slave for the factories, the bottom rung of society, a speck of dust in the universe.” “Mom and Dad are bringing you into this miserable world, but they don’t have the means to lift you up. You’ll only have yourself to rely on in the future.” “Good luck! We’re all just struggling to survive~” I ended the recording, my finger firmly pressing ‘Save’. On the screen, my parents’ faces went from red to green, green to white, and finally settled into a deathly, ashen pallor. “You… you ungrateful, heartless monster!” My dad finally found his voice, screaming in a fit of absolute rage. “If you won’t let us have this baby, we’re having it anyway!” I raised an eyebrow, mocking: “Go ahead, do whatever you want. Just remember what was said today.” I had my video evidence. In my past life, whenever my brother faced the slightest setback, he would take his anger out on me, physically assaulting me. My parents would either pretend not to see it or actively egg him on from the sidelines. “You’re the older sister. You should act like a mother to him and be more forgiving.” “If you hadn’t insisted on a little brother in the first place, he wouldn’t even be here.” “He’s emotional; you should bear the brunt of it.” In this life, when they become the targets of his resentment and his emotional punching bags, I wonder if they’ll be as “forgiving” as they preached. Winter break ended, and the very first thing I did when I got back to college was log my daily steps on Instagram. I finished my final lap with a sprint, checking the stopwatch. My sweat-soaked sports bra clung tightly to my stomach. It was flat and toned, without a single trace of pregnancy. I pointed the camera at my midriff and hit record: “Three miles done for today! Keeping it up tomorrow!” I had to make sure I posted plenty of updates about my body during my mom’s pregnancy. In my past life, because I didn’t know my mom was pregnant, I went home for summer break and was immediately handed a baby brother. When I took the newborn down to the apartment courtyard for some fresh air, a high school classmate happened to walk by. She stared at my puffy dark circles and the crying infant in my arms, and blurted out: “You had a baby in your junior year of college?!” My mom not only didn’t clarify the situation but gave a cryptic, knowing smile: “Oh, well, when we’re out and about, we just tell people he’s her little brother.” She intentionally misled people into thinking the baby was mine. She just wanted everyone to believe my brother was my child. No matter how much I explained, no one believed me. In this life, not only am I posting daily updates on Instagram, but I’m checking in on every single social media platform. I run three miles every day, hike on the weekends, and do crazy amounts of sit-ups in my dorm room at night. My roommates thought I had lost my mind. “Maya, you’re already so skinny and you’re still working out? How are the rest of us supposed to live?” They didn’t know that I was doing all this just to survive. A whole semester flew by. I successfully got abs. Just after I posted a picture showing off my new abs, my dad called. “Summer break started two days ago, why aren’t you home yet?” “I transferred you two hundred bucks. Buy a train ticket and get home tomorrow. It’s mandatory!” Oh, right. They’re in a rush for me to come back and be their unpaid nanny. I accepted his two hundred dollars, then immediately booked a bus ticket heading south. [Dad, I agreed to work at an electronics factory with my classmate for the summer, so I won’t be coming home.] My parents are incredibly cheap. Even if I don’t go home, there is no way they’ll be willing to pay for a postpartum nurse. My dad is the type who refuses to lift a finger around the house. Having him take care of my mom during her postpartum recovery? That house is going to be a warzone. 4 The first few days after my brother was born, my mom’s Facebook feed was like a live broadcast of a perfect life. Close-ups of her son’s tiny pink hands, photos of the happy family of three hugging deeply. She practically posted eight times a day, and her captions were full of arrogant pride. [It really has to be a son! Now that I have a son, even the air smells sweet!] [I’ve finally done right by our ancestors. The Smith family line won’t end with me.] [The happiest family of three!] Unfortunately, their “happy days” didn’t even last a week before descending into total chaos. In the middle of the night, my dad called me, his resentment practically shooting through the phone line. “Your mother is impossible!” “I barely close my eyes for two minutes, and she’s yelling about a headache, a backache, or her bones hurting, demanding I massage her. Who hasn’t had a baby? Back in our day, didn’t every wife get back to work the day after giving birth? “I make her oatmeal, dragging myself out of bed before dawn, and she complains it has no flavor! I buy premium pork trotters to make soup, bring it right to her, and she says it’s too greasy! She’s recovering from childbirth, does she really think she’s a princess?” “She’s constantly whining. I’m done serving her!” My mom sent me voice memos crying hysterically, one after another, accompanied by the sound of a baby wailing in the background. “Your dad is completely useless! Relying on him will literally kill me!” “Your brother cries from hunger, and I tell him to make formula. He uses boiling water, and the powder immediately clumps up! Things even a pig could learn, I tell him a hundred times and he still can’t remember!” “He sleeps like the dead at night. I can’t even shove him awake. When I finally manage to wake him up to change a diaper, he just wipes haphazardly with a wet wipe and shoves the baby into a new diaper while he’s still soaking wet! It’s only been five days! Five days! And the baby has severe diaper rash!” As if they had coordinated it, they both issued the same royal decree to me, one after the other. “Hurry up and come home! We can’t handle it here anymore!” In my past life, I was the one taking care of my mom at home. If I did something slightly not to her liking, she would call me an ungrateful monster. If the water temperature was off by one degree, she called me useless. If the chicken soup was a little cold, she said I was intentionally trying to harm her. When my dad came home, she would add fuel to the fire and complain about me to him. Then, the two of them would tag-team me, yelling and screaming. Now that it was just the two of them, dealing with each other’s “loving care,” they couldn’t even stand each other for a week. I’d rather be a wage slave at the factory than go home and face those three. Go back? Unless I’ve lost my mind. [I’m not going back to add to the chaos! You three living a happy life together is better than anything else!] I really hope they can just forget about me. Stop trying to drag me down. 5 After working at the electronics factory for a day, my phone blew up with messages when I got off my shift. In the extended family group chat, my parents and all my aunts and uncles were putting on a grand show for me. It started with my dad posting a video in the group. In the video, my mom looked pale, curled up on the bed, the mattress beneath her stained with dried blood. Her groans of pain could be heard intermittently. He added a caption full of accusations: [The mother of my child had a C-section, the wound is infected, and she has a 102-degree fever. And her daughter is out there living it up, ignoring us! What a disgrace to the family!] The other relatives immediately piled on, condemning me. Aunt Carol: [Your mother risked her life to give you a sibling, you heartless monster! Hurry up and get your ass back here to take care of her postpartum!] Aunt Susan: [How did you raise such a daughter? You shouldn’t have let her go to college! Women get too wild when they read too many books!] Uncle John: [Hurry back and take care of her! A girl needs to learn how to manage a household and take care of kids. Otherwise, what man will ever want to marry you?] … They’re all so good at moral kidnapping. Well, don’t blame me for airing their dirty laundry in public. [@Aunt Carol, you put Grandma in a nursing home after she was paralyzed and haven’t visited her in three years. Now you’re pretending to be a dutiful daughter?] [@Aunt Susan, your son-in-law is cheating and physically abusive. Do you really have the free time to worry about other people’s families?] [@Uncle John, has your son paid off that $30,000 loan yet? Next time his creditors show up at my door, do you want me to tell them where you’re hiding?] The group chat exploded again. When they couldn’t win the argument, they tried to pull rank. [We are your elders! How dare you speak to your elders like that!] I ignored their moral grandstanding and replied: [Yeah, yeah, yeah. Everyone here is a living saint, and I’m the only ungrateful monster.] [Since you all care so much about my mom, why don’t you take shifts taking care of her during her recovery?] [Whoever wants to sign up, I’ll pay for your Uber.] The group chat went dead silent. The avatars that were so self-righteous a second ago were suddenly mute. I see these relatives maybe once a year. I wasn’t afraid of offending them. Trying to guilt-trip me? Not a chance! My mom finally popped up, playing the victim: [Mom is begging you. Your brother cries all night, your dad doesn’t even know how to make formula, the family needs you. Please have pity on Mom, my incision hurts so much I want to jump out a window!] Now you know what pain feels like? This is nothing. During the summer break of my past life, I went home and worked like a slave. At 3 AM, I would pace the balcony holding a crying infant, only to be met with my mom’s energetic scolding: “Hold him steady! If you drop your brother, I’ll skin you alive!” I washed my brother’s cloth diapers until my hands were stiff and waterlogged. Every day, I helped my mom out of bed to exercise, exhausted to the bone, my back aching. After a month of non-stop work. My mom emerged from her postpartum recovery looking beautiful, strong, and healthy. I looked haggard, like I had just given birth to octuplets, and developed a chronic joint problem. And all I got in return was: “The pain you’re feeling is just the sweet pain of sacrifice. Your brother will repay you when he grows up!” In this life, she will bear all the pain and suffering of having a child herself. So, I threw her own words right back at her: [It’s supposed to hurt! This is called ‘the sweet pain of sacrifice’! You gave the family a male heir, you’ve brought honor to our ancestors! It’s all worth it! When your son grows up, he’ll definitely repay you!] As for how he’ll repay her? That would be with constant physical and verbal abuse, and eventually, raising a knife against her. Now that’s what I call a heart-piercing pain. 6 Time flew by, and a month later, it was time for my brother’s one-month milestone celebration. In the family group chat, Aunt Carol posted a video. The camera panned across my parents at the dining table. My mom looked like a water balloon ready to burst, swollen and puffy, her face a sallow, exhausted yellow that couldn’t be hidden. My dad, on the other hand, hadn’t changed at all. He still looked greasy-faced and full of energy. In just one month, she had been worn down to this state. My dad definitely deserved all the credit. He’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t lift a finger to pick up a fallen bottle of oil in the house. A total slacker. If you asked him to help with chores, he would bombard you with an endless stream of idiotic questions. In my past life, when my mom was recovering, I was overwhelmed and asked him to help me make formula. He hovered around me holding a baby bottle: “Sweetie, does the bottle need to be washed?” “The water should be 110 degrees, right?” “Do I add the formula first or the water first?” “Does the bottle need to be shaken?” “How do I shake it?” … Just answering his stupid questions was more exhausting than doing the work myself. Eventually, I stopped asking for his help, preferring to just spend more time doing it myself. In my past life, because I shouldered the entire burden, my mom looked absolutely radiant at her one-month celebration. Everyone who saw her praised her, asking how she looked even better after having a baby! Little did they know, behind the scenes, I was carrying the weight for her. I remember clearly, she had even maliciously mocked a coworker who had also recently given birth. “Oh my god, how did you let yourself turn into a haggard housewife during your recovery?” “Look at me, I look even fresher after my recovery!” “You must just have bad genes. With my constitution, if I have another one, I might just revert back to an eighteen-year-old!” Well, look at her now. The way she looked in the video, she couldn’t even hold a candle to that haggard coworker. At the end of the video, I distinctly heard Aunt Susan whispering a complaint: “Oh my, look at her after her recovery… her face looks completely ruined…” My mom is a very vain person. She would absolutely never allow herself to stay ugly. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before she reached out to me. “You’re probably not eating well at school, right? How about this: next semester, Mom will rent an apartment near your campus and cook for you every day so you can nourish your body.” Hilarious. I’m starting my junior year. Only now does she realize I might not be eating well at school? I saw right through her little scheme. She just wanted to use the excuse of “taking care of me” to force me to help her take care of the baby, giving her time to recover her health and looks. “No need, Mom. I’m starting an internship soon. I won’t have time to go back to campus, and if you come, you won’t even see me.” “Where are you interning? Mom will go rent an apartment near your company. That’ll be even more convenient for you.” “It’s not finalized yet. Wait until I get the official offer, it won’t be too late for you to come then.” “Okay, it’s a deal then.” Actually, I wasn’t doing an internship at all. I only said that to stall them temporarily. The only way to truly escape this bizarre, bloodsucking family was to study abroad. And I had just secured an exchange student spot from my university. In my past life, I naively shared this good news with my family, expecting them to be proud of me. Instead, they immediately filed for a leave of absence on my behalf, locked me in the house, and destroyed my passport and ID, all just to keep me as their free nanny. In this life, I didn’t tell a soul about the exchange program. Outside of my college classes, I worked like a maniac—tutoring, working as a promoter, taking shifts at the factory—and saved every single penny. I knew they would never give up on the idea of making me help raise the baby. However. By the time they couldn’t wait any longer and came to my campus to find me, they would discover that I had already left the university and was in a foreign country. I was really looking forward to seeing their ridiculous expressions when their scheme fell apart.

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Oliver Sterling suffered from severe anger management issues, and I was his anchor. Everyone around him knew that he would only stay calm and not lash out if I was there. He brought me into his elite social circle, introduced me to his parents, and told everyone I was his best friend. But he didn’t know I harbored an uncontrollable, secret crush on him. However, I also knew he was straight. So, after graduating from college, I quietly disappeared from his life. 01 I hit “decline” on Oliver’s call again. The semester had started a few days ago, and Oliver probably realized by now that I hadn’t shown up for registration. He had been calling me incessantly, but I didn’t dare answer. I knew he must be furious on the other end. After all, we had agreed to attend the same grad school—his alma mater. But I had secretly changed my application, choosing a university all the way in California instead. With his connections, it was easy for him to find out I hadn’t enrolled at his school. Sure enough, right after I declined his call, a barrage of text messages and 60-second voice memos flooded my iMessage. I tapped the very last one. Oliver’s furious, violent voice blasted through the speaker: “Leo, you actually dared to play me. You better tell me exactly where you are right now. I might just give you a chance to redeem yourself and make your death a little less painful. If you keep ignoring my calls and texts, you better pray I never find you. Because if I do, I will absolutely destroy you. Call me back immediately, do you hear me?!” Oliver had never spoken to me with that kind of tone before. My hand instinctively trembled when I heard it, and I accidentally sent a thumbs-up emoji back to him. Once I realized what I had sent, I frantically tried to unsend it, but it was too late. The very next second, Oliver replied. He sounded like he was gritting his teeth, ready to skin me alive: “Leo, you’ve got some nerve, provoking me like this. Fine, just wait and see.” … 02 I met Oliver Sterling during my sophomore year of high school. That year, my parents had made a small fortune from a business venture, so they sent me to a prestigious prep school in New York. The students there all came from powerful backgrounds, but the Sterling family sat firmly at the very top of the pyramid, untouchable. Their family’s influence was unfathomable—deep pockets, massive power, and absolutely no one dared to cross them. But within the walls of that elite school, what everyone knew best was the temper of the Sterling family’s youngest son, Oliver. He was infamous for his explosive anger and being generally terrifying to deal with. Because of his severe anger management issues, he gravitated toward anything that could burn off his excess energy. Boxing, MMA, street racing, bungee jumping—he did it all. But his favorite outlet was street fighting. Before I came along, he practically lived in dive bars, getting into a dozen fights a week. That was the exact setting where I first encountered Oliver Sterling. 03 It was a rainy day. I had been hospitalized with a severe stomach bug during our mandatory outdoor orientation trip and had only just moved into the dorms today. I was walking out of the school gates to find a place to eat nearby when I saw a man stumble out of a dive bar down the street. The man’s clothes were rumpled and covered in muddy footprints. His face was bloodied, and he fell to his knees, begging uncontrollably: “I’m sorry, I was wrong! I swear I didn’t know she was with you, Mr. Sterling.” “If I had known, I wouldn’t have touched her even if you gave me a million bucks!” Standing in front of him were seven or eight teenage boys. The one leading them had his eyes cast downward, ignoring the man entirely. He casually flipped open a wildly expensive Zippo lighter and lit a cigarette. The knuckles of his hands were stained with dried blood. His features were cold and distant. Through the haze of cigarette smoke, he looked even more aloof and ruthless. Without even glancing at the man groveling on the ground, he gave a subtle nod to the side. Two bodyguards immediately rushed forward, grabbed the man by the arms, and dragged him toward a dark alley. The man’s agonizing, blood-curdling screams echoed instantly. 04 I wasn’t standing very far away. Maybe the man was just too terrified, but I couldn’t clearly make out what he was saying at first. However, seeing a grown man pale with terror and driven to the brink of madness… I instinctively assumed it was a group of rich, spoiled brats bullying someone. Driven by a strong sense of justice, I marched right over. I stormed up to the boy leading the group and demanded righteously: “Hey, what do you think you’re doing? A whole group beating up one guy? Have you no shame?” The leader frowned and looked at me, a dark hostility rising in his eyes. Everyone around him shut their mouths. Even the man who had been wailing stopped abruptly. A deathly silence fell over the scene. Probably no one had ever spoken to Oliver Sterling like that. Their faces clearly read, “You’re dead meat.” I had no idea who Oliver Sterling was at the time. Although I could sense something was off from the look in their eyes, I didn’t care. I took a few steps forward, looking him dead in the eye, holding my head high, not backing down an inch. We were standing very close—so close I could smell the crisp scent of cedar on him, mixed with a faint trace of tobacco. The moment I stepped closer, the hostility in his eyes vanished completely. He looked up at me, slightly stunned, a flicker of confusion in his gaze. I thought my righteous anger had intimidated him. Just as I was about to tell them to let the man go… Oliver suddenly grabbed me by the collar and yanked me closer. Our faces were mere inches apart. Instinctively thinking he was going to attack me, I didn’t hesitate. I clenched my fist and swung it straight at his face. Oliver casually blocked it with two swift movements, grabbed my arm, and twisted it behind my back. Although I had never had formal training, I grew up in a rough neighborhood and frequently dealt with street thugs, so I knew how to throw a punch. But despite all the fights I’d been in, I had never been manhandled like this—completely subdued in just one move. My heart sank. This guy knew how to fight. 05 Just as I thought I was a goner. Oliver did something that left everyone’s jaws on the floor. He lowered his head slightly, leaning in close, and pressed his nose against my neck. He inhaled my scent brazenly, almost greedily. He was incredibly strong; his grip on my arm was ironclad. I struggled desperately, but he was like a solid rock, unmoving. After a long while, As if satisfied, he let go. I immediately covered my neck, turned around, and glared at him: “What the fuck, are you a pervert?!” Oliver’s friends were carefully watching his expression, terrified he might actually snap my neck. But Oliver wasn’t angry at all. He even seemed to be in a good mood as he explained the situation to me. “He spiked my girlfriend’s drink. Beating him up isn’t an overreaction, is it?” Skeptical, I turned to look at the man slumped on the ground. As if finally snapping out of his daze, the man started bowing repeatedly on the ground, muttering: “I’m sorry, Mr. Sterling, I swear I’ll never do it again. Please spare me this once.” It wasn’t until I heard that title that I realized exactly who I had messed with, and worst of all, I was the one in the wrong. I turned back stiffly, forcing an awkward, dry smile: “Just a misunderstanding. I apologize, Mr. Sterling. I was wrong.” Oliver frowned slightly, as if finding it difficult to resolve: “Well, what are we going to do about this? I really hate being misunderstood. Tell me, how should I teach you a lesson?” His tone was casual, as if he were asking what to have for dinner, but a cold sweat broke out all over my body. Sweat rolled down my forehead, only to be gently wiped away by someone. I heard someone gasp: “Doesn’t Oliver have germaphobia?” Then, a deep, magnetic voice spoke right by my ear: “Be my friend, and I’ll forgive you.” 06 Later, I somehow ended up adding Oliver on Snapchat and surprisingly became his roommate. Actually, it wasn’t really a surprise. The prep school never assigned dorms based on grades, but by social class. The high-end dorms were essentially luxury townhouses where everyone had deep political or financial backgrounds. But my background was just “new money.” It was obvious who pulled the strings. The only person capable of breaking a century-old tradition at that school was him. Being Oliver’s friend was actually pretty great. He was incredibly generous. On my birthday, he gave me a watch worth hundreds of thousands. He found out who my favorite musician was and took me to their concert over the holidays. We didn’t just get VIP seats; we even got to go backstage and take photos with them. He brought me into his social circle, introduced me to his parents, and told everyone I was his best friend. When my parents faced difficulties with their business, he stepped in to help. But deep down, I knew that to him, I was just an emotional anchor—a human mood stabilizer. His friends told me that since I started hanging around Oliver, he had stopped going to bars to pick fights. He even smoked a lot less. When I was around, he rarely lost his temper. Even when he was absolutely furious, just catching my scent would calm him down immediately. 07 It was strange. Even though I knew I was just an anchor to him, I couldn’t stop myself from falling for him. To be fair, falling for him wasn’t hard to understand. Oliver was incredibly handsome. His face looked like it had been meticulously sculpted. He had an aggressive, raw, masculine beauty. He could just throw on a simple white t-shirt and walk down the street, instantly drawing everyone’s eyes. He had a great body too—tall, broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted, and with an eight-pack. Of course, it wasn’t just his looks. He was intensely charismatic. He knew everything from global history and local customs to the future prospects of various industries, and he could explain them all in simple, engaging terms. But I knew he didn’t like me. During our four years of college, he had several girlfriends. I knew exactly his type: bright, elegant, and feminine. Not skinny, plain, and definitely not male. So I kept my feelings for him buried deep down. But I also knew I could never stand by and watch Oliver get married and have kids with someone else. So, leaving was inevitable. 08 “Hey, Leo, why are you always staring at your phone lately? Are you waiting for a text from a girl you like?” my roommate Mark asked, a teasing smirk on his face. “No,” I replied flatly, shaking my head. Mark didn’t buy it. He slung an arm around my neck, applying a little pressure: “I don’t believe you. Come on, spill it. Who is it?” I couldn’t say, because there was no girl. I was waiting for a message from a specific guy. Ever since he sent me that one text, there had been absolute radio silence. It was like he vanished into thin air. Living in fear for the past few days hadn’t eased my anxiety; it had only made it worse. Just as I was lost in thought, a sudden commotion erupted near the campus gates. Many students started running in that direction. Mark, who loved drama, immediately dragged me along with the crowd. By the time we got there, a large crowd had already gathered. Mark was tall, making it easy for him to see over the crowd. He suddenly gasped: “Holy shit! Isn’t this the kind of spectacle you only see in romance novels when the billionaire CEO comes to catch his runaway bride?” I was stuck in the back and couldn’t see clearly. I asked him: “What’s going on?” Mark thought for a moment. “More than a dozen top-tier black luxury SUVs, and two men in black suits standing in front of every single one.” He frowned, as if feeling that description didn’t do justice to the scene. He waved his hand dismissively and said: “I can’t even describe it. Come on, I’ll show you.” He grabbed my shoulder and pushed toward the front. Once we reached the front, peering through a few rows of people, I spotted Oliver immediately. He was sitting in the back of a car, his face dark with intense anger and impatience. In the few short days since I last saw him, the aura around him had grown much sharper and more dangerous. He hadn’t seen me. He was turning his head to talk to the bodyguards beside him. I froze in place, involuntarily recalling his threat: You better pray I never find you. Without thinking, I ripped my arm out of Mark’s grasp and started pushing my way back through the crowd. I prayed Oliver wouldn’t look in my direction. But I forgot that finding me, let alone catching me, was child’s play for him. Right now, I didn’t have time to worry about that. However, things never go as planned. Seeing me leave, Mark immediately yelled after me at the top of his lungs: “Leo, why are you leaving?! I finally managed to push us to the front! Hey, why are you walking faster? Wait up!” The moment he yelled my name, I felt a searing gaze lock onto me. I knew Oliver had spotted me, but the crowd was too dense, and I couldn’t squeeze my way out. Moments later, the synchronized sound of approaching footsteps echoed, parting the crowd around me. I looked up at the scene before me. A dozen bodyguards surrounded me completely, trapping me in the center. From behind came that deep, hoarse voice, dripping with ice, sending shivers down my spine. “Found you, Leo.” 09 I was “escorted” into the car by Oliver’s bodyguards. The moment the car door shut, Oliver lunged at me without warning, pinning me against the backseat. Seeing this, the driver up front quietly raised the privacy partition. Oliver buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling my scent greedily and urgently. I could feel his cool lips brushing against the burning skin of my neck, his breath hot against my collarbone. Feeling incredibly uncomfortable, I gave him a weak push. The next second, he grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head. He was very strong, gripping my wrists tightly, intentionally making it hurt. “Don’t move.” His tone was heavy, as if annoyed by the interruption. He reached down and gripped my waist tightly. Oliver was furious about me secretly changing my grad school application. It took a long time for the dark cloud over his face to dissipate, but he still didn’t get off me. He braced himself with one hand by my ear, lifting his upper body slightly, staring straight into my eyes. When he finally spoke, his tone wasn’t as aggressive as before, but it definitely wasn’t pleasant: “Who was that guy hugging you?” I looked at him and couldn’t help but remember our college graduation day. That day, our class hosted a farewell party, and Oliver came with me. I had originally planned to confess my feelings to Oliver that day. But just as I turned a corner in the hallway, I saw a girl blocking his path. Her face was flushed, but she still gathered the courage to speak: “Oliver, I like you. Will you be my boyfriend?” Oliver maintained his usual calm, indifferent expression. “I’m sorry, I don’t feel the same way.” Then, I heard the girl ask him: “Is it because of Leo? Ever since Leo transferred here, you haven’t dated anyone. Do you like him?” I hid behind a pillar, my fingers tightening involuntarily out of nervousness, crushing the love letter in my hand. I held my breath, straining my ears to hear his answer. But all I heard was a ruthless scoff, as if he’d just heard a joke: “Why would I like him? He’s a guy. I’m not gay.” But the first question he asked me now wasn’t an interrogation about why I changed my application. It sounded almost like he was jealous, asking about my relationship with Mark. Those hidden feelings in my heart suddenly refused to stay buried. I thought, maybe he did like me a little, but just hadn’t realized it yet. I knew it was just wishful thinking on my part, and it probably sounded ridiculous. But just the sliver of a possibility made my heart race uncontrollably. The urge to tell him how I felt peaked in that moment. I looked up at him intently, a hint of testing in my gaze: “Aren’t you going to ask why I changed schools?” His face darkened instantly: “You have the nerve to ask? Tell me why.” I looked at Oliver with burning intensity: “Because I like you. I didn’t want to watch you date someone else, so I secretly changed my application.” He stared at me for a long time, then suddenly let out a scoff: “Leo, are you a fucking idiot? Do you really think making a joke like that means I’ll forget about you lying to me?” I immediately defended myself: “I’m not joking.” He stared at me for a long time, suddenly curled his lips into a smile, released the hand propping him up by my ear, let his body weight sink heavily onto me, and said casually: “Is that so? Then prove it to me.” I asked him: “How?” He raised an eyebrow, gently tapped his long finger against his own lips, and slowly uttered two words: “Kiss me.” My brain exploded, going completely blank. I was too slow to process it, looking at him in a daze: “What did you say?” His smile widened: “Didn’t you say you like me? What, you don’t even have the guts to kiss me?” I stared at his lips, which were moving as he spoke. Only one thought echoed in my mind: he asked me to kiss him. Did that mean he liked me? “Leo, next time you should find a better…” I lifted my head and gently covered his chattering mouth with mine, staring unblinkingly at Oliver. I saw him freeze slightly, but he didn’t show the slightest hint of disgust. I closed my eyes and deepened the kiss. I gradually allowed myself to sink into it, savoring the sweet taste of him. But before I could fully enjoy it… Suddenly, I was violently shoved away. My back slammed hard against the car door, a sharp, piercing pain shooting up my spine. But what was harder to accept was that when I opened my eyes, I saw Oliver wiping his lips with a look of absolute disgust. He said, “Leo, you are disgusting.” The color drained from my face instantly. Trembling, I didn’t know what to say. He ordered the driver coldly: “Pull over.” The next second, his face dark, he roared at me: “Get the fuck out.”

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The Sterling family’s eccentric third son loved raising snakes and teasing me. Every night, he would bring a cold snake into my room. He’d let it wrap around my ankle, and even if I cried, he refused to take it away. Aside from that, I lived a charmed life, flattered and spoiled by everyone. But later, the Sterlings took in another girl to pay off a debt. Because that girl was afraid of snakes, Vance killed his beloved pet. Looking at the snake’s blood on the floor, I knew my time as his pampered canary was up. Coincidentally, the term of my debt repayment was over. So, clutching my slightly swollen, pregnant belly, I quietly fled the Sterling estate. 01 When I found out my family had gone bankrupt, I was actually thrilled. My dad had eight daughters. I was exactly the eighth. My seven older sisters had all been married off to wealthy tycoons for business alliances. They didn’t get to choose their partners; they had to obey the family’s arrangements. One married a divorced billionaire with kids; another married a sugar daddy thirty years her senior. Each of them was beautiful, but every single marriage was miserable. My dad had picked out a match for me too, and the guy combined all the worst traits of my brothers-in-law. Old, ugly, divorced, with kids. I only took one look from afar and almost threw up. I thought, if I had to marry him, I would waste away to nothing. Because looking at that face, I wouldn’t be able to eat a single bite. When he heard I refused to marry the guy, my dad had me tied up, beaten, and grounded. After all, my sisters had never fought back. He knew exactly how to handle this kind of rebellion. Just when I was on the brink of despair, my dad’s company ran into massive trouble. What made me even happier was that those wealthy brothers-in-law of mine couldn’t lift a finger to help. My dad was finally bankrupt! I joyfully thanked God and my lucky stars. I thought I had dodged a bullet and wouldn’t have to worry about a forced marriage ever again. But I underestimated how ruthless my dad could be. Since the marriage alliance fell through, he actually offered me up as collateral to pay off his debts. 02 When I was brought to the Sterling Estate, I felt like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered. My dad said the Sterlings had three sons, and all I had to do was catch the eye of one of them. If none of them wanted me, he’d send me to another creditor’s house. By then, I had zero expectations for marriage. I figured, rather than being tossed around from man to man, I might as well just go to the Sterlings. As long as the Sterling men weren’t like my former fiancé—five-foot-two, two hundred pounds, and fifty-six years old—I could survive. But a prestigious family like that looked down on my dad’s cheap tactics. The Sterling patriarch righteously rejected him: “We are a respectable family. Don’t try to fool us with these crooked schemes.” So, my dad and I were unceremoniously kicked out. Standing at their gates, he was already making calls to arrange visits to the Smiths, the Joneses, the Davis family… Suddenly, a sharp whistle pierced the air, and a man appeared in front of me. He had a razor-sharp jawline, arched brows, and messy hair falling effortlessly over his forehead. His legs, clad in black tailored pants, looked like they went on forever. The moment our eyes met, only one thought crossed my mind. This must be my reward for enduring so many ugly men. But when I took a closer look, my pupils instantly shrank. Wrapped around his arm was a silver snake. It wasn’t a toy. It was a real snake. It was as thick as a baby’s arm. Its black, beady eyes locked onto me, its tongue flicking out, tasting the air. I had been terrified of cold-blooded animals since I was a kid. My scalp went numb. Just as I was about to take a step back, I heard my dad respectfully call out to the man: “Mr. Sterling.” I knew about Vance Sterling, the third son. In a family with strict rules and tradition, he was the sole exception. Rebellious and wild since childhood, he had no hobbies other than raising snakes, and he never even had a woman by his side. Yet, his grandfather favored him deeply and had entrusted half of the family empire to him. Vance ignored my dad. He just tilted his chin at me and asked lazily: “Afraid of snakes?” I was terrified. Deathly afraid. But I fought the urge to step back, forcing a harmless, sweet smile. “Not at all.” He smirked noncommittally, suddenly raised his arm, and thrust the snake right into my face. “Then pet it.” 03 Every fiber of my being was screaming in protest. But I didn’t want to disobey Vance. Compared to those ugly old men, a young, gorgeous guy like him was already the best option I had. I gritted my teeth and cautiously reached out my hand. The silver snake poked its head out, and its cold scales unexpectedly brushed against my palm. Ice-cold and smooth. Oh my god, this is terrifying. I want to cry. But I forced a bright smile, looking at Vance and lying through my teeth: “This… this feels really nice.” As soon as the words left my mouth, the snake suddenly went crazy, opening its jaws at me as if it wanted to take a bite. My hand trembled in fear, and unable to hold back anymore, I stumbled three steps backward. My lie was exposed way too fast. I thought Vance would mock me, but he just looked at me with a half-smile. “What’s your name?” “Harper Miller.” “Want to come with me?” “Huh?” My eyes widened in shock. By the time I processed what was happening, my dad and Vance had already struck a deal. He handed me over to Vance for three years to wipe out a thirty-million-dollar debt. It was a terrible, uncalculated bargain. But to everyone’s surprise, Vance actually agreed. He nodded playfully. “Sure. Deal.” 04 That very night, I moved into Vance’s private mansion. When Vance walked in, he had just taken a shower. He wore a white silk V-neck pajama top, exposing a wide swath of his chest. Water dripped from his damp hair, trailing down his chest and disappearing into the depths of his shirt. I pursed my lips awkwardly, standing perfectly straight, pressed tightly against the wall. “Are you putting yourself in time-out?” He let out a soft scoff, casually grabbing a towel draped over his shoulder to dry his hair. “If you’re not used to sharing a bed with me, you can sleep in another room. There are sixteen bedrooms in this house; take your pick.” My eyes instantly lit up. I didn’t expect him to be so considerate. Just as I was about to nod, a playful smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Though, the other fifteen are snake rooms. Each room has anywhere from five to twenty snakes. You might want to think about which one you prefer.” I froze in place, suddenly stuttering, “N-never mind. This… this is perfectly fine.” He locked the door, leaving just the two of us in our pajamas. Even though Vance was gorgeous and I understood what the job of a “canary” entailed, I was still terrified facing the actual reality of it. After all, my knowledge of this stuff came entirely from reading romance novels. I had zero practical experience. Vance pulled back the covers and got into bed, patting the empty space next to him. “Are you coming over by yourself, or do you need me to carry you?” I hesitated for a second, then slowly shuffled to the edge of the bed. Rumor had it the eccentric billionaire only liked snakes and never let women near him. I didn’t look like a snake, so he probably wouldn’t be interested in me. Thinking this, I slowly crawled under the covers, leaving enough space between us to fit three other people. Vance gave me a meaningful look. I don’t know if he was suddenly hot, but he suddenly lifted the hem of his shirt to fan himself. That one motion exposed eight perfectly sculpted abs. I glanced over, instantly averted my eyes, and asked carefully: “Is the AC set too high? Do you want me to turn it down?” Vance stopped talking. He stared at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if he were suddenly parched. I tried to be helpful again. “Do you want me to get you some water?” The expression on Vance’s face was complicated for a moment. Suddenly he wasn’t thirsty anymore. He reached over, flicked off the lamp, and turned his back to me to sleep. I breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed he really was just like the rumors—completely uninterested in women. Keeping me around was probably just him taking pity on a girl sold by her own father. I secretly congratulated myself for meeting a good guy who was cold on the outside but warm on the inside, and happily prepared to drift off. Just as I was half-asleep, a body suddenly pressed against my back. His chest was burning hot, his voice hoarse, but his words were incredibly direct. “Are we doing this?” 05 I take back everything I said. Vance was not a good guy at all. He was wicked. I was too embarrassed to refuse, and he took an inch to take a mile, pushing forward relentlessly. Until I completely fell apart, half-resisting, half-yielding. And if that wasn’t enough, he was a total freak. Who brings a snake into the bedroom for that? With a twisted sense of humor, he brought the snake into the room. It flicked its tongue, its crimson tip licking my ankle, cold scales gliding across my calf. He lowered his head to bite my earlobe, his hot breath brushing against the side of my ear. The contrast of freezing cold and burning heat drove me absolutely insane. For the first year with Vance, I counted down the days, wondering how much longer until I could leave him and his creepy reptiles. By the second year, I realized that spending too much time with a freak makes you a bit of a freak too. I had actually grown addicted to the feeling. By the third year, I suddenly felt that staying with Vance was actually pretty great. He was clean. Besides me, there were no other women in his life. He gave me everything I asked for. The best of everything was delivered straight to my hands. I had massive, flawless diamonds, solid gold bars, and designer bags filling an entire walk-in closet. Everyone knew Vance valued me. They practically treated me as the future Mrs. Sterling. Even my dad bowed and scraped whenever he saw me. I was riding high, showered with praise. I also felt that Vance loved me. Every time he breathed my name, trembling, his eyes reflected nothing but me. So when the three years were up, he didn’t bring up the end of the debt, and I didn’t mention leaving. The day I found out I was unexpectedly pregnant, I was actually thrilled. I couldn’t wait to share the good news with Vance. But as luck would have it, Vance didn’t come home that night. It was the first time in three years. The next day, I found out the Sterlings had taken in a new girl to pay off a debt. 06 When I went looking for Vance, he was at the main estate. The butler told me the new girl’s name was Chloe Bennett. She was incredibly beautiful, the picture of a pure, innocent sweetheart. She was originally meant to pay off a debt to the Sterlings, but a young heir from the Hayes family had also set his sights on her. The two men ended up fighting over it, agreeing that Chloe would belong to the winner. Vance won. But as he walked toward Chloe, the snake he brought that day was feeling restless and suddenly lunged onto her. It wrapped itself around her neck, flicking its tongue, slowly slithering against her cheek. A young girl like her had never seen anything so terrifying. She burst into tears on the spot. By the time I rushed over, the snake was already dead. Its head was severed from its body, a large pool of blood spreading across the floor. I froze. Vance loved his snakes. He practically raised them like children, giving each one a name. He treasured them. He rarely let anyone touch them, and once refused a two-million-dollar offer for just one of his reptiles. After spending so much time with those cold-blooded little creatures, even I had developed a strange affection for them. I never imagined there would come a day when Vance would kill a snake. And all just to comfort a crying girl. I pursed my lips, looking up toward the estate’s grand living room. Vance was inside, leaning lazily against the window with his arms crossed, a casual smirk on his lips as he chatted idly with Chloe. Chloe looked up at him, her delicate frame fragile, her long hair blowing in the breeze. At a glance, she looked a lot like I did three years ago. I was standing right at the door. If Vance just turned his head, he would see me. But he was too focused. His gaze didn’t shift an inch. I suddenly remembered how cold Vance had been toward me over the last two months. He was incredibly fit and usually never tired of tossing me around. Three or four hours a night used to be the norm. But lately, he had become perfunctory, wrapping things up hastily after just one round. So, his boredom with me had warning signs all along. But come to think of it, with a background and status like his, how could he tie his heart to just one woman? Keeping him interested for three years was already a massive achievement. I looked down at my still-flat stomach. I had wanted to tell him we were having a baby, but now, it seemed entirely unnecessary. I didn’t stick around to watch. I hurried back to the mansion. I could break up with Vance, but the gifts he gave me were mine, and I was taking them all. I immediately contacted buyers, liquidating the gold, selling off the designer bags and jewelry. It would take about a week for my bank balance to turn into a glorious, cold, multi-million-dollar safety net. Thinking about this, I lay on the bed, feeling relieved, just wanting the week to be over. The bedroom door clicked open, and the mattress dipped. Vance familiarly pulled me into his arms. I stiffened. “Why are you back?” Shouldn’t he be with Chloe tonight? Vance propped himself up over me with one hand, unbuttoning his shirt with the other. “This is my house. Where else would I go?” Saying that, he cupped the back of my head and crashed his lips onto mine, greedily stealing the air from my lungs. Thinking about what happened at the estate, I reluctantly turned my head away, blurting out a random excuse. “No, you’re sweaty today. You’re dirty.” “Spoiled.” Vance reached out, tapped my nose, and pulled off his shirt, revealing a lean, muscular torso. “I’ll go shower.” He took two steps, then, as if remembering something, turned back and scooped me up into his arms. “Let’s shower together.” Excuse me? The bathroom was steaming hot, the sound of water echoing against the tiles. Vance’s gaze landed on me, his eyes growing dark. His kisses fell like a storm, leaving me breathless and forced to lean against him just to stay standing. But surprisingly, at the crucial moment, Vance let me go. “Be a good girl and go out first. I’ll come find you when I’m done.” I froze for a second, then realization hit me. A man’s energy is finite. Now that he had a new toy, he obviously wouldn’t waste his stamina on his old one. New is always better than the old, after all. I don’t know if it was because I was too exhausted today, but my lower abdomen suddenly started aching slightly. I pulled out my phone to check out local clinics, planning to book an appointment to get rid of the baby the moment I left town. I browsed for a long time. Vance was still in the bathroom, god knows what he was doing in there. I was dead tired and dozed off, my phone still clutched tightly in my hand, the screen unlocked. I was shaken awake by Vance. Half-asleep, I was pulled into his arms. He was staring at me with a half-smile, making me feel inexplicably guilty. “W-what are you doing?” He tilted his head, studying me. “Babe, do you have anything you want to tell me?” I was entirely lost. “No.” “Really?” His fingertips suddenly trailed down, landing on my lower stomach, slowly tracing circles. I glanced at my phone, which was now sitting on the nightstand. A terrible premonition gripped my heart. Did he see my browsing history? Did he notice something? I looked at him hesitantly. His expression was impossible to read. In that split second, my brain was already working in overdrive, trying to come up with an excuse to hide the pregnancy. “I… I just…” “Are you short on cash?” he asked suddenly. My excuse died in my throat. I stared at him blankly. “The guy who buys secondhand designer bags just called. He said you’re trying to sell off all the bags I gave you. Care to explain why you’re liquidating everything?” Oh, so it was about that. I breathed a massive sigh of relief and quickly spun a lie. “Those bags are out of season. They’re just taking up space, so I figured I might as well sell them.” Vance was very good at grasping the core issue. He immediately zeroed in on the key information: “The old bags are out of season, so you need new ones.” “I’ll have my assistant buy every new arrival this season tomorrow. You can wear whatever you like.” Just as I was about to relax, Vance casually dropped another question: “Babe, why were you glancing at your phone while talking to me? Is there some dark secret hiding in there?” “Want to show it to me?” I was terrified. I immediately looked away, wrapped my arms around his neck, nuzzled against the small mole on his nose, and made my voice as soft and sweet as possible. “What could I possibly hide from you?” The silver snake coiled around his shoulder took the opportunity to wrap its tail around my waist, pulling me tight against Vance’s abs. He hummed, satisfied. “Relax, I won’t check your phone. I have that much trust in you.” “Besides, I doubt you’d dare do anything out of line.” I nodded vigorously. Honestly, running away in secret wasn’t that out of line, was it? Just one more week, and I’d be saying goodbye to Vance forever. But I never expected the Sterling family’s intuition to be so sharp. 07 For Grandpa Sterling’s birthday, Vance had to return to the estate. Usually, these were strictly family affairs, and he never brought me along. But this year was the patriarch’s 80th, a massive banquet, and Vance wanted me to attend as his plus-one. Since it was a banquet, I needed a gown. Vance had given me plenty of dresses, but running away with a closet full of evening wear was impractical, so I had already sold them off at a discount. I only had one burgundy dress left. The waist was tiny, bought when I was at my absolute thinnest. Zipping it up was a struggle, and it made my slightly rounded stomach noticeable. I sucked in my gut, praying Vance wouldn’t notice. Everything was going fine until it was time for toasts. A group of kids ran over, playing tag, and one nearly crashed right into my stomach. I jumped back in panic, forgetting to hold my breath. Vance’s little niece ran up to me, pressed her hand against my stomach, and asked in her sweet, baby voice: “Harper, your tummy used to be flat. Why is it all round now?” Vance froze, his gaze immediately dropping to my abdomen. Sucking it back in now would be too obvious. I bent down slightly and explained to the little girl: “Because the food at the party is so yummy, I ate way too much and got stuffed.” But the kid shook her head, telling me with absolute certainty: “Nuh-uh.” “There’s a baby in your tummy.” As soon as the words fell, the surrounding area went dead silent. Everyone turned to look at us. As if afraid people wouldn’t believe her, she raised her voice: “It’s true! I’m not lying!” “The baby in her tummy is moving! It just kicked my hand!” I was panicking internally but kept a beaming smile on my face as I explained, “There’s no baby in my tummy, sweetheart.” “When you eat too much, your stomach has to digest it. Of course my tummy is moving.” The kid wanted to argue, but thankfully her mother grabbed her and pulled her away. The excuse was incredibly flimsy, but I thought I had managed to scrape by. When I turned around, I found Vance staring at me, deep in thought. “Babe, if I remember correctly, you’ve missed your period for three months now, haven’t you?” My money was ready. I was leaving tomorrow. I couldn’t let things go wrong now. I forced myself to stay calm and nodded naturally. “Yeah.” “You know my cycle has never been regular.” Afraid Vance would press further and blow my cover, I faked a burp. “Ugh, I ate way too much. I need to go for a walk and digest.” Vance couldn’t come with me; there was a line of people waiting to toast him. He had to socialize. I wandered the estate gardens alone. As I walked, I noticed a light on. It was a room on the third floor that had always been empty. Tonight, it was brightly lit. Two maids walked by carrying trays of food, gossiping. “Mr. Sterling really cares about that new Miss Bennett. He’s so worried she’ll go hungry, he had the chef make all her favorites.” “A busy man like him actually remembered she’s allergic to seafood. He specifically ordered the kitchen to leave it out.” “With a new girl in the house, does that mean Miss Miller is out of favor?” “Probably. The Bennett girl is only nineteen, a blank slate, the perfect age to mold. Miss Miller is twenty-two. Mr. Sterling has been sleeping with her for years; he’s bound to be bored by now.” I stood behind a sycamore tree. They didn’t see me as they chatted and headed toward the third floor. I sniffled, suddenly feeling incredibly hollow. Vance wasn’t even trying to hide his affection. Even the staff could see he had someone else in his heart. A voice suddenly broke the silence from behind me. “Miss Miller, since Vance has a new favorite, why don’t you come with me?”

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I was standing at the finance desk, trying to file my travel expenses, when the accountant literally shoved my paperwork back in my face. “New company policy,” she snapped. “Lodging is capped at $50 a night. Food is $10 a day. You’re way over budget!” “Linda, are you serious? I was in Manhattan,” I replied, staring at her in disbelief. “Even a flea-ridden motel in Queens costs $200. You want me to sleep under the Brooklyn Bridge for fifty bucks?” “Not my problem. Talk to the CEO. He set the rules.” I looked down at the $7,000 worth of receipts in my hand. I’d spent six months’ worth of savings and maxed out my credit cards just to keep the project moving. If they didn’t reimburse me, I wouldn’t even be able to afford rent, let alone groceries. Thinking about everything I’d done for this firm, I walked into the CEO’s office, expecting him to be reasonable. Instead, he didn’t even look up from his desk. “Policy is policy. My hands are tied.” 01 I had just closed a multi-million dollar contract for the company after months of grueling travel. Now that the work was done, they were refusing to pay the bills. Earlier that month, I’d tried to catch the accountant during a brief trip back to the office. She’d shut me down instantly. “Reimbursements are processed only during the last week of the month.” The problem? During the last week of every month, I was required to be on-site with the client for the project wrap-up. How was I supposed to be in two places at once? I had to fly back early this week just to get the paperwork in, only to be told my lodging and food were “excessive.” Linda, the accountant, sat there with a stone face. She had one mantra: “If the boss signs it, I’ll pay it.” I took the forms to the CEO, Mr. Sterling, and tried to explain. “Mr. Sterling, you can’t find a room for $50 in New York. It’s impossible.” “Did you even try?” he countered. “Or did you just go straight for the Hilton?” “I stayed at a Red Roof Inn forty minutes away for $150. That was the cheap option. Look it up online if you don’t believe me.” He sneered and pulled out his phone. After a few minutes of aggressive scrolling, he found a listing for a hostel in a dangerous part of the Bronx. A bunk bed in a room with twelve strangers for $45. “See? There’s a spot. Want me to book it for your next trip?” “That’s a hostel, sir. Twelve people in one room! I’m working late nights. How am I supposed to protect the company laptop or my own gear in a place like that?” He rolled his eyes and kept scrolling until he found a budget motel in the far reaches of New Jersey. “Look, $55. Just take the bus.” “The client is in midtown. The commute would be three hours each way.” “Then get up earlier,” he snapped. I bit my tongue to keep from cursing him out. “And the $10 food allowance? A deli sandwich in the city is fifteen bucks.” “Look, Leo,” Sterling said, leaning back. “If you weren’t traveling, wouldn’t you be paying for your own dinner anyway? Why should the company foot the bill just because you’re in a different zip code? Giving you ten bucks is a luxury. That’s a couple of McDoubles from the dollar menu. Be grateful.” I was speechless. The company expected me to take a Greyhound bus, sleep in a bunk bed, and eat off the dollar menu while I was closing seven-figure deals. Looking at his smug face, I knew he wasn’t going to budge on the rates. Fine. I’d take the hit. Based on the “official” rates, they still owed me about $5,000. I needed that cash just to survive. But I never imagined that even after I agreed to take the loss, they still wouldn’t give me the money. 02 I went back to my desk, adjusted the totals to match their ridiculous caps, and walked back to the finance window. “Alright, Linda. Just process it at the $50 cap for lodging and $10 for food.” She took the forms, glanced at them for two seconds, and tossed them back. “Can’t do it.” “Why not? I’m following the policy now!” “The receipts don’t match the requested amount.” “Of course they don’t! The receipts are for the actual prices, which are higher. I’m asking for less than what I spent. Any auditor would be fine with that.” “The IRS might be, but the boss isn’t. He requires the receipt amount to be identical to the reimbursement claim.” The blood started to boil in my veins. “Linda, I’ve been fronting the company money for a year. I’ve put five grand of my own money into this business. I’m literally letting you keep a portion of it just so I can get the rest back. Can we please just get this done?” “Talk to the boss, Leo. Get his signature, and I’ll cut the check.” I walked back into Sterling’s office. “The accountant says I need your signature because the receipt amounts are higher than the claim.” Sterling took the paper, saw that the company was “saving” over a thousand dollars, and suddenly he was all smiles. “See, Leo? This is how a big company stays afloat. It’s about the system. I’ll make an exception and sign this for you just this once. Don’t let it happen again.” He scribbled his name. He was stealing over a grand from me; of course he was happy to sign. I ran back to finance. I handed over the signed paper. Linda tossed it back again. “Can’t do it.” I felt like my head was going to explode. 03 “What now?” I hissed. “Company policy states reimbursements are capped at $500 per month. You’ll have to split this into ten separate monthly claims. Go back, re-date them, and bring them back.” I took a deep breath, trying to keep my hands from shaking. “Linda… why couldn’t you tell me all of this the first time?” “The handbook is on the company portal. If you don’t read it, that’s on you.” I looked at the wall. Sure enough, there was a tiny, faded print-out of a “memo” from last month. Who the hell checks the finance wall for updates every day? I lost it. My voice rose until the whole office could hear. “This is money I paid for the company. This is a debt the company owes me! It’s not a bonus or a salary. Why the hell am I being paid back in installments? Are you going to pay me interest?” Linda just gave me that same robotic stare. “It’s the boss’s rule. Get his signature, and I’ll pay it all.” Back to Sterling. Again. “Sir, finance says there’s a $500 monthly cap?” “That’s right. Cash flow management, Leo.” “I’ve been traveling non-stop. I have five thousand dollars in expenses. At this rate, I’ll never be fully paid back because I’m still spending money on the next trips! I’m effectively paying the company to work here!” Sterling didn’t even look up. “Leo, rules are rules. You didn’t file them on time, that’s your problem. I told you, I made one exception today. I’m not making another. Get out.” “I couldn’t file on time because I was on-site for the projects you assigned me!” “You could have mailed the receipts in.” “I did! And Linda sent them back because I didn’t ‘tape them horizontally’ to the paper! They sat in her inbox for three months!” “Then you should have taped them horizontally. It’s about attention to detail, Leo. Maybe that’s why you’re struggling.” He was gaslighting me. He had a million excuses, and every single one ended with me losing money. 04 I left his office fuming. I had no choice. I filed for the first $500. I had credit card bills due and I needed to eat. I was broke because I was subsidizing a millionaire. Finally, on my fourth trip to the window, Linda took the paperwork. “This looks correct. See? You can follow the rules when you try.” I wanted to reach through the glass and strangle her. “When do I get the money?” “It’ll be direct-deposited with your next paycheck.” Next month’s paycheck? That was three weeks away. My rent was due in three days. My bank account was already in the red. “Can I get an advance? I’m literally out of money.” “Standard procedure, Leo. We have to verify the receipts, enter them into the ledger… these things take time.” Standard procedure. The “procedure” designed to screw over the little guy. “Linda, can I at least get an advance on my salary? I can’t afford groceries.” “Get the boss’s signature.” I went back to Sterling. One last time. He actually smiled this time. “Leo, you know that advancing a salary has a financial cost to the company. That money could be sitting in our high-yield account earning interest. But, since I’m a nice guy and I don’t want you to starve… I’ll approve a $500 advance. But we have to account for the lost interest. We’ll take a 5% ‘convenience fee’ out of it. You’ll get $475.” The man knew all about “financial costs” when it was his money, but when he was sitting on five grand of my money for a year, he didn’t mention interest once. I had to take it. I bit my lip and said the hardest words I’ve ever spoken: “Thank you, sir.” “Don’t mention it. Now get back to work. Show some loyalty to the firm.” Loyalty? Oh, he was going to get exactly what he deserved. 05 The next morning, my client in NYC, Mr. Thompson, called me. “Leo, where are you? The project wrap-up meeting is this afternoon.” “Sorry, Mr. Thompson. Company policy requires me to be in the home office for reimbursement processing. I couldn’t make it back to the city. Maybe you should call my boss and ask him to send someone else?” Thompson lost it. “Reimbursement? Are you kidding me? You’re missing a milestone meeting over paperwork? We’re a week away from the final sign-off! Everyone is pulling overtime, and you’re at your home office filing receipts?” “I’m sorry, sir. I haven’t been paid back for six months. I literally don’t have the money for a bus ticket, and I have nowhere to stay.” “I’m calling your boss right now. We’ll see what’s more important—your receipts or this ten-million-dollar contract.” The second phase of Thompson’s project was worth ten million. Sterling wouldn’t dare piss him off. Three minutes later, Sterling came sprinting into my office, screaming. “The project is at the finish line! Why aren’t you on a plane to New York?” “I’d love to go, sir. But I’m broke.” “I just gave you a $500 advance!” “Actually, it was $475. And it went straight to my credit card company to avoid a late fee. I can’t afford a ticket, I can’t afford a hotel, and I certainly can’t afford to eat.” Sterling froze. Then he glared at me. “Are you trying to lose your performance bonus?” “Sir, if I go to New York, I might finish the project, but I’ll be homeless by the time the bonus check clears. I can’t even afford the subway. Maybe I should just take out a payday loan?” “Don’t be dramatic. Just borrow some money.” “You charged me 5% for a three-week advance, sir. If I take a payday loan to cover company expenses, I’ll be working for free. My salary doesn’t cover that kind of interest.” Sterling realized I wasn’t backing down. “Go to finance. Get a $1,000 advance. Go. Now.” “Is there a 5% fee? Because if there is, I can’t afford it.” Sterling choked on his words. “No fee! It’s a travel advance!” I got the signature. Sterling growled, “Don’t let this happen again, Leo. Work comes first. Don’t let a few dollars ruin a project.” A few dollars? Rich, coming from a guy who wouldn’t pay for a sandwich. But I got the cash. I went to the window, Linda processed it instantly, and the money hit my account. I went back to my office, kicked my feet up, and started playing games on my phone. I wasn’t going to New York yet. 06 An hour later, Sterling walked past and saw me still sitting there. He burst in, purple with rage. “Miller! Why are you still here? The meeting is in four hours!” “Well, the thousand dollars went to my other credit card, sir. I still can’t afford the ticket.” Sterling’s face went from purple to bright red. “You’re doing this on purpose!” “The company rules say I have to be here to file. I’m just following the system, sir. My accounts are a mess because of the delays. I’m truly helpless.” His phone rang again. It was Thompson. I could hear him screaming through the receiver from across the room. He told Sterling if I wasn’t there by the afternoon, the Phase 2 contract was going to a competitor. “Do you want this ten-million-dollar deal or not?” Thompson yelled. Sterling hung up, gritting his teeth. “Is your credit card paid off now?” “Still owe about another five grand.” “Fine! Go to finance. Get $10,000. Buy a last-minute flight. Just get there!” He paused. “Actually, forget Linda. I’ll have my assistant book your flight. Go get the cash.” He was desperate. Usually, he forced me to take the six-hour bus ride. Now, he was paying for a last-minute flight—probably $1,200—and his assistant was doing the work. I took the $10k advance. Linda looked at me like I was a bank robber. “Two days and you’ve taken twenty thousand from the company?” “Linda, the company owed me five. This is just a down payment on my loyalty. Technically, I’m still the one getting screwed.” The assistant booked the flight. Sterling even had his private driver take me to the airport. I finally got a taste of the CEO life. But I knew my time here was over. Once this project was signed, Sterling would find a way to fire me. He was only paying me now because he needed the milestone. My 5% commission on the deal—about $200,000—was as good as gone if I stayed. Luckily, I had a plan. 07 Phase 1 was a success. The client was happy. The $4 million final payment for Phase 1 hit the company’s bank account. Predictably, Sterling started the “burn” phase. He handed Phase 2 over to another manager, a corporate suck-up named Sarah, and stopped giving me new assignments. I was being sidelined. He was waiting for me to quit so he wouldn’t have to pay my commission. I didn’t wait. When the monthly pay stub came and my commission was missing, I went straight to Linda. “Where’s my $200,000 commission for the Thompson deal?” Linda didn’t even look up. “If the boss didn’t approve it, it doesn’t exist.” “He signed the contract! It was in my offer letter!” “Talk to him. If he signs a check, I’ll send it.” I felt like I was talking to an AI bot. As I turned to leave, she added, “By the way, the boss put a hold on your remaining expense reimbursements. Don’t bother asking why.” So, he was stealing my commission and the rest of my expenses. Cold. 08 I walked into Sterling’s office. “Linda says you didn’t approve my commission?” “That’s right,” he said, not even bothering to hide his smugness now that the money was in the bank. “We had an agreement. $200,000.” “Well, Leo, after auditing the project, we found it wasn’t as profitable as we hoped. Plus, you missed several ‘internal’ deadlines while you were ‘busy’ in New York. We’ve decided to cancel the commission.” “Not profitable? The client just paid four million in cash!” “Overhead, Leo. Overhead. In fact, the company barely broke even. There’s no money for bonuses. For anyone. Meeting adjourned.” He was trying to bait me. He wanted me to blow up and walk out so he could claim I abandoned my job. “Fine,” I said calmly. “I’ll wait for the audit to finish.” He looked surprised. He expected a fight. He wanted to enjoy the moment he broke me. But I didn’t give it to him. I went back to my office and went back to my games. I had everything I needed.

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I got dumped by my online boyfriend after I finally got accepted into his college. He sent me a picture of my own sister and said: “I’ve fallen for her. I’ll make it up to you.” I laughed. “Well, she can be your main chick and I’ll be your side piece. I just can’t live without you.” He got annoyed. “Silly girl, I cheated on you and I have ED. I’m not good enough for you.” I was just about to tell him the girl in the photo was me. But then he sent me a jaw-droppingly handsome photo. “This is my roommate, the campus heartthrob. His family is rich, he’s never dated, and he’s packing 8 inches. Let me set you up with him, okay?” I swallowed hard. “Fine, but don’t you dare come crawling back to me.” He promised confidently: “Don’t worry. Whoever begs to get back together is a dog.” Later, this usually arrogant, bad-boy type was wearing a leather collar, kneeling at my feet like a dog, crying and begging: “Please, let’s get back together. Or he can be your main guy and I’ll be your side piece. I don’t have ED, I’m a machine in bed.” “Please?” 01 [Babe, let’s break up.] Honestly, this online relationship was more casual than serious for me. But getting a breakup text from Liam out of nowhere still surprised me. I called him to ask why. Liam was very upfront: “I saw a freshman today. She completely fits my aesthetic. It’s like she was custom-made for me.” “I feel like if I can’t be with her, my life will have no meaning.” “So babe, let me go. I’ll compensate you.” I laughed. “You used to say that if you couldn’t be with me, your life would have no meaning.” Liam coughed guiltily. “Guys say all kinds of bullshit when they’re chasing a girl. But this is different. I’m serious about her.” Serious after just seeing her? Yeah, right. Besides, Liam and I had been online dating for a year. He was a high-IQ straight-A student, with sharp, handsome features and slightly upturned eyes that looked like they had hooks in them. He was exactly my favorite type of arrogant bad boy. I wanted to at least taste him before we broke up. I tried to make him stay: “A lot of people say I’m super pretty too. Why don’t you look at me first before you decide?” I opened my photo gallery. “No need. I’ve seen your pictures. I know you’re pretty, but you have that mature, boss-babe vibe. I prefer cute, petite girls.” My photos gave off a boss-babe vibe? “Liam, are you sure? I’m as far from a mature boss-babe as you can get.” Liam sent a photo over. “I lied when I said I didn’t care about looks and never asked for a photo. I actually went through your old profile pictures and saw what you looked like a long time ago.” I looked at the photo he sent. It was a beautiful woman in a black leather jacket, looking incredibly cool, sitting on a motorcycle. I was just about to say that wasn’t me, but my older sister, Chloe. Then Liam sent another photo of me. “Look at my new crush.” “People say you two look a bit alike around the eyes, but your vibes are completely different.” “You’re beautiful and badass, you look cooler than me. If your voice was my type, I actually would have chased you.” “But she’s exactly what I want. Big eyes, small face, and her voice is so sweet. She totally stole my soul.” “Anyway, I’m just showing you her picture to tell you I’m serious. Don’t do anything weird with her photo.” I couldn’t believe Liam liked me this much. I burst out laughing. I decided to mess with him. “Well, she can be your main chick and I’ll be your side piece. I just can’t live without you.” Liam sighed heavily. “Silly girl, I cheated on you and I have ED. I’m not good enough for you.” Liar. He was the captain of the college basketball team, with incredible stamina and crazy long legs. When we talked on the phone, his “solo sessions” lasted at least half an hour. I was just about to tell him the second photo was actually me. When he suddenly sent over a jaw-droppingly handsome photo. “This is my roommate, Cole. The campus heartthrob. His family is rich, he’s never had a girlfriend, and he’s packing 8 inches. Let me set you up with him, okay?” The guy in the photo, Cole, had pale skin, red lips, and a high nose bridge. He was wearing a clean, crisp white button-down shirt. The fingers holding his pen were long and elegant, his nails neatly trimmed. Sitting at a sunlit desk, he looked like a piece of flawless jade. My heart literally skipped a beat. And that skipped beat made me realize something. I didn’t actually have a “favorite type” of handsome guy. I was just thirsty. Besides, I hadn’t met any guys I felt a stronger connection with right now. I might as well try talking to Cole first. But… “Will he really talk to me?” “He will. He and I are best friends. If he doesn’t talk to you, I’ll hold a knife to his neck.” I laughed. “Alright, but don’t you dare come begging for me back.” Liam promised confidently: “Don’t worry, whoever begs to get back together is a dog.” Heh. Did he really think I would beg to get back together? I used to secretly date online because my parents were super strict about my studies. Now that I got accepted into UCLA, my family was fully supportive of me dating. I couldn’t wait to date every hot guy I could find. I would never go back to an ex. “Where are you going to college? I gave your Snapchat to Cole, I’ll tell him to take you out on a date tomorrow.” Before, to surprise Liam, I only told him I was going to college in Los Angeles, but didn’t specify UCLA. But there was no point in hiding it anymore. I was just about to tell him. “Never mind, you guys can figure it out yourselves. I need to go prep for my confession to my little crush tomorrow. Bye.” Liam hung up. Immediately after, I got a friend request from Cole on Snapchat. 02 But I played hard to get and didn’t hit [Accept]. Today was move-in day, and someone took a picture of me and posted it on the campus confession page, making me a minor celebrity. The next day, during freshman orientation, a lot of people came specifically to see me. Among them was Liam. He was holding a massive bouquet of red roses and three highly sought-after Sonny Angel blind boxes, standing right in front of me. He was very direct: “Hi Maya, I’m Liam from the Computer Science department. I’m a junior. I fell in love with you at first sight. Will you be my girlfriend?” I looked up and studied Liam closely. Honestly, he was even better-looking than his photos. The outline of his abs was faintly visible under his black t-shirt, and the muscles and veins on his arms were prominent. He practically oozed sexual tension. The students watching started cheering: “Say yes! Say yes! That’s Liam, the CS god, the face of the school! Usually, it’s girls chasing him to confess!” “I can’t believe I’m seeing the CS god confess his love in my lifetime. He used to stay away from women, always looking so untouchable. I used to think he was wasting his good looks.” The Liam who talked dirty to me online had absolutely nothing to do with “untouchable.” I was amused by the comments from the crowd. Liam mistook my smile for approval. He flashed a confident, winning smile. “Sorry, I don’t want to be your girlfriend.” Liam’s smile froze on his face. The cheering crowd also went silent. The atmosphere was incredibly awkward. “Why?” Because last night you broke up with me and introduced me to your roommate. But I wasn’t going to say that. I was waiting for him to figure it out himself. When we first met in an online game, he liked my sweet voice, and I liked his handsome face. To spend more time with him, I pretended to be a bad student and constantly bugged him to tutor me. He was incredibly patient, not only teaching me but also frequently sending me money on Venmo. Total boyfriend material. But I didn’t expect him to change his mind and break up right when we were about to meet in person. Seeing as he didn’t seem too deeply invested in me, I wouldn’t label him a total jerk. “I already have someone I’m interested in.” “So you’re not dating yet? Then give me a chance to pursue you, okay? I promise I’ll treat you better than that guy.” “No thanks, I’m not interested in you.” Liam looked incredibly awkward. There were gasps of disbelief from the crowd. “But I have to have you. I’m not giving up. Just take these gifts for now.” Those Sonny Angels were really cute. But I didn’t want to get tangled up with Liam. I shook my head and refused. Liam tried to force me to take them: “If you don’t take them, I’m throwing them in the trash.” “Then throw them away.” I don’t know if Liam threw them away or not. I linked arms with my roommate, Chloe, and walked away without looking back. Chloe: “You’re so bold, rejecting Liam in front of everyone.” “It’s fine. It’s a good way to use him to warn off other guys who want to confess to me, so I don’t have guys bothering me every day.” “That’s true. I saw a lot of guys on the confession page saying they wanted to come find you.” Speaking of that, I remembered Cole. I accepted his friend request and agreed to have dinner with him. 03 At the restaurant. Cole was sitting by the window. Seeing me sit down across from him, his eyes lit up, then he looked stunned. I smiled at him: “I’m the girlfriend Liam set you up with, Babe.” “Are you wondering why I look different from my photo?” Cole hummed a “yeah,” his voice deep and pleasant. Seeing me staring straight at him, his ears suddenly turned bright red. He drank some water to hide his shyness and nervousness. I was surprised. And a bit conflicted. I didn’t expect to find such an innocent guy these days. I kind of didn’t want to date him anymore. After all, I was in it for a good time, not a serious commitment. But he was really hot. And his lips were red and soft—they looked very kissable. Sigh. I’ll let him choose for himself. “So, do you want to date me, or do you want to date the girl in the photo?” “If it’s the girl in the photo, I can introduce you.” “You.” Cole didn’t hesitate. Well, you can’t blame me then. After all, he might not be that serious about me either. Or, like Liam, he might be serious for a while and then change his mind. So whatever, let’s just enjoy the moment. “Liam said you’re 8 inches, is that true?” “I’m not talking about your shoe size.” I asked bluntly. Cole froze completely. His face turned beet red. He couldn’t speak for a good while. I frowned: “You don’t? If you don’t, then we can’t date.” Cole looked around, then whispered: “I do.” “Can I see?” “R-right now?” “No, wait until we finish eating.” Cole nodded, the blush on his face deepening. He handed me the menu. Seeing it was my first time there, he carefully recommended the restaurant’s specialties. Halfway through the meal, Liam called Cole. The volume was pretty loud, so I heard everything. Liam: “Did you meet Babe?” Cole: “Yeah.” “I didn’t lie, did I? She’s gorgeous, right?” “Yeah.” “Then treat her well, and try to spend all your free time with her. Don’t give her time to think about me. That Maya girl is harder to chase than I thought. I need to focus on figuring out how to win her over, I don’t have the energy to deal with Babe.” “Yeah.” “Thanks, man. You being my friend is a real blessing. I’ll treat you to a big dinner tomorrow.” “No need, I’m eating right now. Hanging up.” “Okay.” Cole put down his phone. I suddenly remembered something: “Do you know my name?” Cole paused for a few seconds: “No.” “My name is…” “Sorry.” Cole suddenly interrupted me. “I need to use the restroom.” Cole walked away pretty quickly after saying that. Like he really couldn’t hold it. I kept eating, and when Cole came back, I forgot to tell him my name. After leaving the restaurant, Cole proactively offered to get a hotel room. Me!! 04 Did I misjudge him? He’s actually that open-minded! Cole seemed to read my thoughts and hurriedly explained: “Don’t misunderstand, I’m not doing this to sleep with you.” “You can inspect the goods first. I didn’t lie to you. I want you to feel secure being my girlfriend.” Oh, I see. But I hadn’t seen that kind of thing before. To suddenly go look at it, it felt super awkward. “Why don’t we wait a few days? Getting a hotel room just to look at it seems like a waste of money.” “It’s only a waste if it doesn’t make you feel secure. Besides, I have plenty of money.” Cole was very insistent. I felt like he was a bit too innocent for his own good. And also incredibly eager to be accommodating. I agreed. Afterward. A blushing Cole looked at a blushing me. “I’m very traditional.” “I showed you my most important thing. If anything happens between us in the future, you can’t break up with me.” My mind was completely occupied with wondering how… Would it really feel that good to use… I didn’t catch a word Cole was saying, just mumbled an “okay.” Cole was thrilled and took me back to campus. As we neared my dorm building, I saw a couple making out in the distance. I stopped and asked Cole: “Can I kiss you?” “Yes.” Cole, ears red, cupped my face and gently kissed my lips. Then quickly pulled away. He seemed very nervous. His fingers were trembling slightly. He looked absolutely adorable. And his lips were so sweet and soft. Just a light touch like that wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy my craving. “Can you kiss me longer? Kiss me harder?” “I’ll try. This is my first time kissing someone. If I hurt you, let me know.” “Mhm.” Cole leaned down and kissed me again. It was better this time. But he didn’t use tongue. Just as I was about to pry his teeth open. Liam’s shocked voice came from behind us. “Cole! Babe?” Cole and I both froze. Cole pulled me into his arms, burying my face in his chest. His hand stroked my face, seemingly trying to hide my identity. But I didn’t have time to think about that. My thoughts were entirely consumed by the frantic pounding of his heart. If his heart raced this fast just from a kiss. Then what if… My mind was swimming in dirty thoughts. Liam walked over step by step, sounding happy: “You brought Babe to visit campus!” Ugh. It seemed Liam had no idea that I, the “scumbag,” was studying here. Cole’s voice was cool: “Why are you here?” “I came to drop something off for Maya.” “Congratulations, you guys got together so fast.” Cole gave a very faint “mhm”. Liam looked at my back and smiled: “Babe, you’ve been hiding in Cole’s arms this whole time. Are you embarrassed I caught you kissing? Aren’t you going to say hi?” I wasn’t embarrassed at all. And I did want to say hi. So I turned around with a wicked grin and flashed Liam a smile. 05 But Liam ran towards my roommate, Chloe. Leaving me with only his tall back. The autumn mosquitoes were numerous and vicious. They bit my bare calves below my skirt, making them itchy and painful. I bent down to scratch my leg. Cole asked: “Did a mosquito bite you?” “Yeah.” “Then you should go upstairs. Liam looks busy and probably won’t have time for us. I’ll tell him later.” I thought he had a point. “Alright then, see you tomorrow.” I walked towards my dorm building. I vaguely heard Cole let out a long sigh of relief. Looking back. He was already walking towards Liam. Not long after I got back to my dorm. I received a friend request from Liam on my burner WeChat account that I used to talk to classmates. The contact was shared via a business card. I guessed Chloe gave it to him. And I was right. As soon as Chloe got back to the dorm, she told me: “That Liam is really going all out to pursue you.” “To get you to accept his gifts, he bought sunscreen, whitening masks, and perfume for everyone in our dorm, plus a ton of snacks, and even bought Pepto-Bismol, saying he was afraid we’d get heatstroke during orientation.” “He was also worried you wouldn’t accept them, so he wanted me to lie and say my family sent them.” “I didn’t want to do it, but he kept begging me. I had no choice, so I gave him your WeChat. You won’t blame me, right?” I smiled: “It’s fine. It would be silly not to accept the stuff, but I haven’t accepted his friend request.” “That’s good. Honestly, Liam is handsome and generous. You’d definitely be happy with him.” “…” Liam really knows how to buy people’s loyalty. I haven’t even accepted his gifts yet, and my roommate is already speaking up for him. Liam called me. “You’re back at school?” “…Yeah.” “I just happened to run into my goddess’s roommate earlier. Next time you come, I’ll show you around properly.” Liam sounded genuine and happy. I deliberately confessed. “I actually go to UCLA.” Liam let out a scoffing laugh. “Can you stop making me laugh? With your grades, you got into UCLA?” “Or are you just blaming me for breaking up with you and trying to mess with me?” “I’m telling you, seriously, don’t do this. Cole is a thousand times better than me. You should just be with him.” I swear, whatever. Let him be a clown if he wants. Besides, speaking of Cole, I had some NSFW topics to discuss. I walked to the balcony and closed the door. “Can you teach Cole a thing or two? I feel like he’s too innocent.” “What do you mean?” “When I talk to him, he blushes. When we walk, he doesn’t even know to hold my hand. When we kiss, he wants me to make the first move, and he doesn’t even know how to use tongue.” Liam laughed: “He’s never had a girlfriend. Isn’t it normal that he doesn’t know these things? What, do you want me to find some porn for him to watch?” That would be great for me. I happily said: “Yes, yes.” Liam was silent for a moment, his voice sounding a bit disappointed: “Why does it feel like you’re not sad at all after we broke up?”

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Ethan drove to pick me up. The man, always known for his aloof and disciplined demeanor. Actually let his new secretary sit in his passenger seat. I knew then, this marriage was over. 01 That day, Ethan drove over to pick me up. When I opened the passenger side door, I froze for a second. A young, pretty girl was sitting in the passenger seat, flashing me a sweet smile. “Hi, Mrs. Hayes!” The girl greeted me very politely. But she made absolutely no move to get up and offer me the seat. I narrowed my eyes and shifted my gaze to Ethan. Ethan was looking down, taking a phone call, completely oblivious to the hidden tension on this side of the car. We had made plans today to go to an auction together. I had been looking forward to this date with him and had dressed up carefully, but I never expected someone else to be sitting in his passenger seat. “Hi, Mrs. Hayes, my name is Chloe. I’m Mr. Hayes’s new assistant.” A warm smile curved on the girl’s lips. The two shallow dimples made her look exceptionally sweet. “I heard you two were going to a private auction tonight, so I begged Mr. Hayes to bring me along to see the world. Don’t worry, I absolutely won’t interrupt you guys.” My heart instantly sank to the bottom. I knew the cold, perfect man in front of me too well. He always maintained a sense of distance. He wouldn’t easily let others step into his personal space. We got together through an arranged marriage. After much consideration, we chose each other. Outsiders joked, saying I was practically signing up to be a living widow. But after we made our relationship official. Ethan would hug me with a gentle look in his eyes. In moments of passion, the corners of his eyes would tinge red. He said: “You are my wife. Husband and wife are one entity; naturally, you are different from anyone else to me.” Today, it felt like something had changed. 02 But I wasn’t some delicate flower who would just swallow my anger. I was Audrey, who had never needed to read the room or suppress my temper for anyone. “Get out!” I kicked her out with a cold face, showing no mercy. The girl was stunned for a long moment. She probably didn’t expect that on our very first meeting, I would directly embarrass her. Perhaps because my tone was too harsh and cold. For a moment, the girl actually looked at a loss for what to do. “I-I’m sorry, Mrs. Hayes.” The girl’s voice carried a hint of a sob as she dejectedly moved to the back seat. Ethan just finished his call and looked over at us. He realized I was angry. A look of helpless indulgence washed over his face. The man leaned over and fastened my seatbelt for me. Noticing the seat position had been adjusted by someone else, I readjusted it with extreme impatience. This whole ordeal made me furious. “So annoying! Why would anyone dare to adjust my passenger seat!” The air pressure in the car dropped, and the girl was too scared to speak again. Ethan furrowed his brow slightly, suggesting to me in a calm tone. “If you’re not in a good mood today, let’s just go home.” The woman in the rearview mirror was silently shedding tears. I felt incredibly frustrated. “Chloe, right? I’m not in the mood to go anymore. Call an Uber and go home yourself. Mr. Hayes and I are going home.” The girl’s face turned pale, and she looked weakly at Ethan. The man showed no intention of helping her out of the situation. The girl got out of the car, looking devastated. 03 Ethan would never embarrass me in front of outsiders. He always knew how to control his emotions. So he suggested: go home. If there’s an issue, solve it at home. This was the unspoken understanding we had built over the years. “She’s just a college grad who just entered the workforce. Why are you getting so worked up over this?” Ethan pulled me into his arms. “It’s the first time.” Ethan didn’t understand: “What?” “In all these years, this is the first time you’ve let another woman sit in your passenger seat.” The man didn’t expect that this was what I cared about. Everyone in our circle knew how outstanding Ethan was. The number of women who liked him was innumerable. But he kept his nose clean. Surrounded by temptation, he never let a single leaf stick to him. Ethan smiled faintly and ruffled my hair. “I can’t believe I actually managed to make you jealous for once.” The man leaned down to kiss me, his nose brushing against my cheek. “She is my subordinate, nothing more. “There won’t be any other relationship between her and me.” Ethan cupped my face, staring into my eyes. He made a solemn promise to me in a deep voice. 04 A woman’s intuition is always very accurate. Even though I had only met Chloe once. My intuition told me that this girl definitely had other intentions towards Ethan. I originally thought my show of dominance at our first meeting was enough. But I never expected that the auction necklace that was supposed to be given to me would be worn around the girl’s neck the very next day. Harper, serving as Ethan’s executive assistant, sent me a photo and a screenshot of a Facebook post. In the photo, the crescent moon diamond necklace hung around Chloe’s fair neck, making her look even more delicate and pretty. The girl’s eyes were red and swollen, but a smile played on her lips. She probably went home and cried her eyes out last night. And received a gift from someone. In the screenshot, it was a post Chloe made on Facebook: [The CEO says girls need to be strong even when they feel wronged! [Wiping away my tears. Yes sir, my CEO!] Followed by a few cute emojis of a clenched fist showing determination. Along with a picture of the necklace in its box. At that moment, my blood almost froze. Although it’s hard to admit, I must confess. I was provoked by her to the point where I almost lost my composure. This feeling was terrible; it was like my cherished white silk scarf was stained with a smear of mosquito blood. This feeling was very strange to me. I even wanted to ignore the facts, jump into my yellow Ferrari, drive at 100 mph, and slap that woman twice across the face. But looking at my own hands, I felt that taking a cheap, manipulative girl so seriously was beneath me. I made a phone call to Vivian at Hermès. Vivian’s tone was filled with uncontrollable joy. She assured me over the phone. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Hayes. Even if I have to empty out all the stores in the city today, I will gather all the items and guarantee they’re all delivered to you!” And so, that very day. Before the workday even ended. Excluding Chloe, all the assistants to the executives and the girls in the general manager’s office at Hayes Group headquarters, a total of forty-six girls, received a generous gift from the CEO’s wife— A Hermès necklace worth twelve thousand dollars. Although the unit price couldn’t compare to the two-million-dollar auction necklace, the sheer quantity made up for it, effectively leveling the playing field. Harper was tactful in her execution. She required everyone to post on Facebook with the caption— [The CEO’s wife says every girl deserves the best! [Clenching my fist. Yes ma’am, my CEO’s wife!] The girls who received the gifts were naturally happy to cooperate. As assistants and general office staff. They were practically the gossip center of the entire company. Now receiving a gift from the CEO’s wife, which one of them wouldn’t happily and actively post the caption and pictures? There were even some clever ones who added a line to their captions: [The CEO’s wife really knows how to play!] The influence of these directors’ assistants might not be huge, but their ability to spread information across various departments was terrifying. Within half an hour, the whole company knew that the CEO’s wife had gifted everyone a Hermès necklace. As for the reason, the various gossip groups were already buzzing with speculation. Chloe’s face was pale; she seemed to have suffered a great insult. With red-rimmed eyes, she hid in the restroom to take off the diamond necklace. Two colleagues who came in to touch up their makeup saw her and let out two ambiguous scoffs. Chloe felt completely humiliated. She lowered her head and quickly walked out of the restroom, the mocking laughter behind her becoming even more unrestrained. Her cheeks burned as she put the necklace back into the box. She returned it to Ethan exactly as it was. 05 Ethan had just finished a video call with a partner. He saw the girl, who had obviously been crying again, holding the necklace box, looking desolate and staring at her toes. “What’s wrong?” Ethan asked, puzzled. Before Chloe could speak, her tears began to fall. She sobbed quietly, looking pitiful: “Mr. Hayes, please take this necklace back. I don’t dare keep it.” A hint of displeasure appeared on Ethan’s cold, handsome face. His intuition told him that something must have happened. But he didn’t press for details directly. He just quietly watched the person in front of him. Chloe pursed her lips, hesitating repeatedly, and finally took the initiative to speak, recounting everything that happened in the office today in full detail. “Mr. Hayes, I’m sorry for always causing you trouble. “I just made a Facebook post to encourage myself. I didn’t know why the Mrs. would find out about it.” Chloe sobbed softly. “I didn’t think the Mrs. would be so angry.” The woman looked as pitiful as a little white rabbit. “Mr. Hayes, I want to go apologize to the Mrs. I can explain everything to her clearly in person.” Ethan never had the habit of checking Facebook. His time was filled with work. But as the CEO of the group, he understood all too well these toxic habits of chasing shadows within the company. His usually stern face grew even colder. “I understand.” The man said in a deep voice. 06 That evening, Ethan brought Chloe home. The girl was meek and submissive, standing behind the man. “I asked Chloe to come over so she can clear things up face-to-face.” Ethan sighed. “Audrey, Chloe is just my secretary. “Because of what happened yesterday, as a gesture of apology, I casually gave her a gift, that’s all.” I stirred my silver spoon, finishing the bird’s nest soup the housekeeper had stewed. “Mrs. Hayes, I’m sorry.” Chloe was sincere in her attitude, bowing to me. Trembling with fear, delicate and weak. “This is the first time I’ve received such an expensive gift. I got dizzy with happiness for a moment. If I did anything to upset you, please tell me, and I will definitely change right away!” I raised an eyebrow: “Chloe, right?” The girl glanced at Ethan, seemingly trying to draw courage from him, and slowly nodded. Looking at the woman acting like a newborn calf unafraid of tigers, insisting on challenging me, I only found it amusing. “I’m not your teacher, nor am I your boss. I don’t have the time to teach you how to behave or do things. “But I am Ethan Hayes’s wife. Therefore, whoever dares to act ambiguous with my husband, I will not give her a chance to turn over a new leaf.” This girl had probably never met someone as direct as me in her entire life. Her face, which was trying hard to maintain a facade, was left with nothing but frail vulnerability. “Audrey, Chloe came to apologize to you.” Ethan knew my personality and methods. Even if he didn’t approve of what I did today, he could understand my feelings. So he didn’t argue with me, just agreed to let Chloe come and apologize to me. He had already made a concession, wanting me to let go of the misunderstanding. Everyone here was smart. Even a single look was enough to convey each other’s meaning. “I understand.” I decided to give Ethan a chance. After all, he hadn’t actually cheated. “But there won’t be a next time, no matter who it is.” 07 “You didn’t have to use those methods against a girl.” Before falling asleep, Ethan brought up the topic. “You should have told me first.” I sat at the vanity doing my skincare routine, staring at the handsome man in the mirror. “You knew perfectly well I liked that necklace, yet you gave it to another woman. Shouldn’t I be angry?” I couldn’t imagine if such a perfect person got dirty, whether I would still adore him as before. Ethan unhurriedly went to the bar to pour himself a glass of ice water. “She cried all night because of your misunderstanding. “When I saw how swollen her eyes were this morning, I casually gave her the necklace as an apology.” There wasn’t a single flaw in his explanation. I scrutinized him coldly for a long time. Two million dollars, to us, was just pocket change. Giving it away casually made sense. It just depended on whether the other person was worth it. The man’s fingertips tapped against the quartz countertop. He was waiting for me to think. This was the first time we had a conflict over a third party. Our upbringing and education made us both feel a bit tired of this kind of thing. We were both people who cared about keeping up appearances. “Ethan, I love you.” Ethan’s fingertips paused. He probably didn’t expect me to say this suddenly. “Ethan, I love the pristine, flawless version of you. This is what makes you different from anyone else. “You never let women get close before because you have emotional mysophobia. You wanted a clean marriage. I wasn’t like that before, but your values influenced me. Now, our life goals are the same. “I hope your marriage never has a crossroads.” Ethan said helplessly: “I don’t.” 08 Ethan was a very clear-headed person. He knew I cared, so he wouldn’t give Chloe any more room for fantasies. Without the CEO’s elevation, Chloe, as an intern, could only start from the most basic tasks. Before, she had the opportunity to rotate at the main reception desk. Now, Harper simply didn’t schedule her for shifts. I didn’t signal anyone to ostracize her. Since Ethan knew where to draw the line, I completely trusted him. But this kind of thing didn’t require any instructions from me. There were plenty of people willing to kiss up to the powerful and step on the weak. In less than half a month, this new secretary couldn’t handle the drop in her professional standing and the psychological blow, losing a whole size in weight. The turning point occurred after an important executive meeting ended. That day, Chloe was assigned to clean the small conference room alone. The girl, wearing a skirt suit, knelt on the floor, struggling to scrape chewing gum off the carpet with a razor blade. This scene was witnessed by Ethan, who had returned to retrieve something. Noticing someone behind her, the girl hurriedly stood up in embarrassment. Ethan’s gaze was deep and coldly profound. Such a silent stare stripped Chloe of all her dignity. “Mr. Hayes.” The girl’s tears fell uncontrollably. She wasn’t acting, nor was she pretending. Ethan was originally the sun she admired but couldn’t touch. When she was marginalized, she had almost accepted her fate. Now, being seen by the man in this state. Chloe wished she could push Ethan aside and flee out the door. In just half a month, that originally cheerful and lively girl had become so fragile. This was the first time Ethan lost his temper. He came home and violently smashed the water glass I handed him onto the floor. Water splashed everywhere. “Why do you still refuse to let her go? “Audrey, I respect and love you, tolerating your insults and harm to her time and time again. “Does bullying the weak give you some kind of thrill?” I remembered that during Ethan’s time studying abroad, his younger sister in middle school committed suicide by jumping off a building due to severe school bullying. This became an indelible scar in his heart, causing him to abhor such behavior. “Audrey, I won’t let you use these methods to hurt others again, otherwise I won’t stand idly by!” I stared blankly at the emotionally out-of-control man in front of me. For the first time since our marriage, Ethan lost his reason and blew up in anger for another woman, for something I didn’t even do. This feeling was terrible. Like glass shattering. Like spilled water that can’t be gathered again. 09 Ethan promoted Chloe to his personal assistant. At the same time, he decisively fired Harper. This was the executive assistant who had fought alongside him for seven years. “You need to be clear about exactly who you are working for.” Harper was very stubborn in certain aspects. “I am working for you, Mr. Hayes. “For some matters, I will privately contact the Mrs. “But only regarding personal matters.” The man threw the shift schedule in front of Harper. “Is that so? So righteous? “Then did your professional ethics allow you to abuse your power to bully others?” Harper was speechless. She knew her deliberate mistreatment of Chloe had been discovered, and she showed fear in front of him. Ethan saw right through it. “You have no tolerance for others, you can’t distinguish right from wrong, you suppress colleagues based on personal grudges. What right do you have to hold the position of executive assistant?” Harper walked out of the office, defeated. Outside, several assistants looked sorrowful. “Harper, do you really have to leave?” Before the large tears could roll down her face, Harper quickly wiped them away. “Yeah, I’m leaving. See you all around, ladies.”

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I’ve always had issue with low blood sugar. Because of that, my childhood best friend, Ethan, always kept an emergency stash of chocolate in his backpack just for me. Today, right after crushing the 800-meter track event, I was feeling faint. I naturally reached into his bag for a bar. Suddenly, Serena, the delicate new transfer student, burst into tears. She looked at me, trembling, and asked, “Why would you steal the birthday gift Ethan gave me? I know it was just chocolate, but it was my gift…” Ethan panicked immediately. He rushed to her side, cooing that he’d buy her a new one, a better one. I was left standing there, completely stunned, a bitter taste filling my mouth. Later, I was representing the school at a regional meet. The moment I crossed the finish line in first place, Ethan and my new desk-mate, Leo, both stepped forward. They both held out a chocolate bar at the same time. Without a second thought, I silently took the bar from Leo. Ethan’s hand froze in mid-air. He looked at me, lost and hurt. “Harper, why won’t you take my chocolate anymore?” 01 We were the center of attention. I stood there, gripping the hal-eaten chocolate bar, my palm slick with sweat. The heat was melting the chocolate, smearing it all over my hand. Serena was still crying. “Harper, I know you don’t like me being friends with Ethan, but I just got here. He’s my only friend.” She sniffed dramatically. “I just… I just wanted to feel what it was like for someone to have me in their thoughts…” The whispers started immediately, swirling around me from every direction in the homeroom. “No way! Is Harper really that petty? Stealing someone’s birthday gift?” “Tsk, she’s not ‘someone,’ she’s the childhood friend. Looks like she’s jealous that her guy is giving attention to the new girl.” “That’s so desperate. Just because she’s on an athletic scholarship doesn’t mean she owns him.” “Serena is so heartbroken. I want to give her my allowance to buy her a better gift.” … I froze. I wanted to explain. But it felt like something was blocking my throat. I couldn’t get the words out. I wanted to say that I didn’t know it was her birthday. I didn’t mean to steal anything. I wanted to say that Ethan was the one who told me that whenever my sugar crashed, his backpack was a safe haven for chocolate. That’s the only reason I took it. I was dizzy, exhausted from running my best time. I just needed to not faint. I had no idea that specific bar, wrapped up with a tiny bow, was a gift for her. Ethan, having heard the commotion, rushed back from the teacher’s lounge. When I saw him, relief washed over me. My eyes stung. He was finally here. He would explain everything for me. Or so I thought. Ethan didn’t even glance at me. He ran straight to Serena, leaning over, desperately trying to calm her down. “Don’t cry, Serena. I’ll get you another gift. A better one.” Looking at Serena’s pristine, tear-streaked face, Ethan finally remembered I existed. He turned to me, his expression full of accusation. “Harper, apologize to Serena. That was her gift.” The room practically exploded with ‘I told you so’ looks. “Wow, confirmed. Harper really did take the new girl’s gift.” “Taking something without asking is just stealing, period.” Countless subtle, disdainful looks were aimed at me. It was blindingly sunny outside, but I was shivering violently inside. The humiliation and shame almost swallowed me whole. Finally, I took a deep breath. I forced the tears back, Refusing to let them fall. I turned to Serena, stiffened my spine, and gave a forced, robotic apology. “I’m sorry.” 02 Before the bell rang for class to start. Ethan pulled Serena back to our section of the room. That’s when I realized my desk had been moved. Ethan and I used to sit next to each other. Now, Serena was in my spot. I looked around, lost, searching for my desk. “Your seat is over there,” Ethan said flatly. I followed his finger to the very back corner, by the rear door. It was isolated. No desk-mate. My textbooks were in a disorganized mess on the dusty surface. “You’ve been away at the training camp for weeks,” Ethan explained, his voice devoid of its usual warmth. “Serena can’t see the board from the back, so she swapped with you. It’s not like you’re in class often anyway.” I listened to his distant voice, numb. I walked to the back row, moving like a ghost. Behind me, I heard Serena whisper, “Won’t she be mad about this? Maybe I should just give it back…” “Forget it. She made you cry. Consider this her way of making it up to you.” “Ethan, you’re too good to me.” Her voice was sweet and delicate. The kind of voice that made people want to protect her. Suddenly, I understood why Ethan looked at her with such tenderness. Who could say anything harsh to a girl like that? I lowered my head, the tears finally breaking free. Everything inside me was aching, twisted and bitter. How did this happen? I was only gone for two weeks. Before I left, Ethan was different. If anyone had even touched my desk while I was away, he would have snapped: “Back off. What if you mess up Harps’ stuff? Don’t worry, Harper, you focus on training. As long as I’m here, no one is moving your desk.” When did that change? Oh, right. It started when Serena Williams (not that one, just a common name) transferred in this semester. She was beautiful, smart, and always smiled softly at us. “I’m so jealous of how close your friendship is,” she would say wistfully. After that, Ethan started inviting her to lunch with us every single day. Back then, I was oblivious. I thought I was just making a new friend. I ignored how the frequency of Ethan’s replies to my texts during camp dwindled to almost nothing. I ignored his “joking” comparisons: “You should learn a thing or two from Serena. Be a little less… aggressive.” The homeroom teacher walked in. Following behind her was a new face. He was undeniably good-looking. But cold. He looked like the world owed him money. The teacher cleared her throat. “Class, this is Leo Carter. He’s in the advanced art program, but he’ll be taking core classes with us from now on.” The teacher scanned the room, landing on the empty spot next to me. “Leo, you can take that empty seat next to Harper. Since you’re both specialty students—art and athletics—you might find you have some common ground.” 03 Hearing my name, I frantically wiped away the tears. But I forgot about the melted chocolate still on my hands. In an instant, I smeared dark brown chocolate across my face. I looked ridiculous. Everyone turned to look, and the room burst into laughter. Ethan wasn’t laughing. Instead, I saw a flicker of something like disgust in his eyes. I lowered my head, my face burning crimson. Suddenly, a backpack slammed onto the desk next to me, followed by a full pack of wet wipes. I looked up to see Leo settling into the seat beside me. He glanced at me, one eyebrow raised. “If you don’t wipe that off now, it’s going to dry.” I clumsily grabbed a wipe and scrubbed my face. “Thanks,” I whispered, barely audible. The teacher had stepped out for a moment. Immediately, the gossiping cliques started buzzing. “Another specialist student. This is the honor track; I don’t know how they just let anyone in.” “Exactly. When they can’t keep up, they’ll regress. If Ethan hadn’t helped Harper, she would have washed out ages ago.” “Well, Serena is his partner now. Looks like Harper and the new guy can be miserable together in the back.” They weren’t even trying to be quiet. Leo and I could hear every word. I gripped my pen until my knuckles turned white. I fought the tears, but the injustice of it all stung. Leo seemed like he hadn’t heard a thing. He was calmly sketching something in his notebook. Didn’t he feel any insecurity? Any shame? Curiosity got the better of me, and I leaned over to see what he was drawing. I looked, and forgot to cry. It was incredible. 04 Even though I had tutors during training camp, I had missed a lot. The next period was advanced placement math, and I was lost. I stared at the problem set, panicking. I didn’t even notice when the bell rang for the end of class. I had tried three different methods, and none of them worked. I didn’t realize Ethan had walked back to my corner. He rapped his knuckles against my forehead. “Still stuck? It’s a basic Cauchy inequality application, Harper. If you don’t get it, you should ask. Sitting here stewing on it until tomorrow morning isn’t going to make the answer appear.” That was how Ethan always treated me when I couldn’t solve a problem. Rough but present. He said it was to help me remember. But after everything that happened today, that familiar gesture felt different. It was the breaking point. The hot sting of humiliation rushed back. Tears splashed onto my worksheet. Ethan paused, his voice softening slightly. “What are you crying for? I’m not going to leave you hanging.” He started to pull a chair over to show me how to solve it. Suddenly, Serena spun around in her seat up front, smiling brightly. “Ethan! I just found two different ways to solve this problem! Can you look at my logic and see if it holds up?” He seemed mesmerized by her smile. He abandoned the chair instantly. “Calculate it yourself first,” he snapped at me before sprinting back to Serena. I stared at Serena’s smile from a distance. It felt blinding, smug, like a trophy she was flaunting. A wave of stubbornness washed over me. I had to solve this problem. But when I reached the final step, I was stuck again. Leo had stopped sketching. He pointed at my chicken-scratch scratch paper. “Using that inequality on this specific problem makes the calculation too complex. It’s easy to make a mistake. There’s a simpler formula for this type of problem.” He quickly jotted down a string of variables. I stared for a moment, and then it clicked. I grabbed my pen and reworked the problem. Everything flowed smoothly. I got the answer. I was ecstatic. I turned to thank him. But he was already sketching again. Okay. Looks like my new desk-mate is a closet genius. 05 When school ended, I hesitated. Should I walk with Ethan? We live next door to each other. Our parents are best friends. If we don’t go home together, our parents will worry, and I didn’t want to explain why. But by the time I came back from the restroom, Ethan was gone. There was a note on his empty desk. Go home yourself today. I have something to do. I shouldered my backpack. As I walked, I tried to focus on my digital flashcards, memorizing vocab. Passing by the downtown shopping center, I saw Ethan’s reflection in a window. Serena was with him. They were in a high-end candy store. I stopped, watching. Ethan’s voice, usually blunt with me, was incredibly gentle. “Do you like this kind? It’s imported Belgian chocolate. It’s supposed to be the best.” “I love it. If you’re giving it to me, I’ll love anything.” Serena’s face was slightly flushed. Ethan smiled. “This one it is, then.” After a pause, he asked, a bit confused, “Why did you want chocolate for your birthday, anyway?” Serena’s eyes immediately welled up. She bit her lip. “I… It’s because I have low blood sugar. I’ve fainted a few times. I asked my mom to buy me some chocolate to keep in my bag, but she told me not to be so dramatic.” Ethan was stunned. It took him a moment to process. “It’s okay. From now on, I’ll have some for you.” Serena looked at him, then asked tentatively, “I heard… that you used to do that for Harper, too?” Ethan ran a hand through his hair, looking awkward. “That was then. She’s an athlete now, sturdy. She doesn’t need to be babied like that.” I gripped my backpack strap so hard my knuckles turned white. My whole body went cold. So that’s what he really thought of me. I looked at my own reflection in the window. I wasn’t slim. At 135 pounds, next to Serena’s 95, I felt massive. I felt like a linebacker. But I wasn’t always like this. My coach had told me I was too thin, and my low blood sugar was impacting my potential. I had to gain muscle. When I told Ethan back then, he agreed. He piled food on my plate. “I told you you needed to eat more. You passed out on the track last time, remember? From now on, you get my extra dessert.” Why was it ‘babying’ now? Why was I ‘sturdy’ now? I wiped away my tears and lower my head, running home. I never wanted Ethan’s chocolate again. And I didn’t want his help, either. 06 When I got home. My mom had a full dinner waiting. She said I was burning too many calories between training and studying, and I needed to replenish. But looking at the beautiful food, I had no appetite. “Mom,” I mumbled, “don’t make me late-night snacks anymore. I don’t want them.” Before she could respond, I bolted up the stairs to my room. I buried my face in my pillow and cried, silently this time. I must have cried myself to sleep. That night, I dreamed of when we were kids, right after Ethan moved in. Back then, I was half a head taller than him. He was a crybaby. A little push, and he’d fall over. Yet, he always wanted to play with me. I really didn’t like having a shadow who was such a wimp. But one day, some older kids from the neighborhood were bullying him. Hearing him cry, my heart just softened. I rushed in and stood in front of him. “Stop crying! I’ll protect you from now on!” I declared, puffing out my chest. He had tear-filled eyes that made them sparkle like glass. “Harper, I like you. I’ll protect you, too, when I grow up.” I was so embarrassed I felt my face burn. Slowly, the little wimp grew into a tall, lean guy. He was the one I had to look up to. He was the one who stood in front of me. In middle school, my body started to change. In the summer, the white school t-shirts were a bit thin, and some obnoxious boys were staring and making jokes. Ethan found out. His face went dark, and he tracked them down, his fist ensuring they’d never open their mouths again. “Harper, don’t listen to them. From now on, if anyone comments on your body, I’m putting them in the hospital.” I smiled in the dream, reaching out to touch him. But in the next second. The boy in my memory vanished. I woke up, crying. It was just a dream. “Harper, get up! Ethan is here, he’s waiting for you!” my mom yelled from downstairs. I froze, then scrambled to get ready. I saw Ethan leaning lazily against the doorframe, holding a carton of chocolate milk. When he saw me. He shoved the milk into my hand. “What’s wrong with you? You look pathetic. Were you scared to walk home alone last night?” I shoved the milk back into his hand and walked right past him. “No, thanks. I ate breakfast. And you don’t need to bring me anything anymore.” Ethan stared at the milk in his hand, dumbfounded. It took him a second to recover, yelling at my retreating back, “You just woke up, when could you have eaten?” He caught up and grabbed my backpack strap, his face darkening. “What is your problem this morning? Giving me attitude? I told you, I had something I had to do last night, that’s why I couldn’t walk you.” I yanked my strap out of his hand. “Got it. We’re going to be late.” I put in my earbuds and turned on an English podcast. Blocking him out completely. 07 I stood through the entire morning lecture, trying to focus on my notes. But my stomach was cramping, and my head felt light. I leaned over my desk, gripping my forehead. I should have just eaten breakfast. Pride is fine, but starvation is stupid. A brown paper bag and a few white rabbit candies suddenly appeared on my desk. I turned my head, confused. It was Leo. He glanced at my pale face. “You have low blood sugar. You have to eat.” I hesitated, but my stomach made a convincing argument. I took the bag. “Thanks. We just met yesterday, and I keep leaning on you.” Leo looked at me with a lazy, half-smile. “It’s not for free. The time for your payback is coming soon.” “Huh?” I looked up from the sandwich, confused. He leaned his forehead against his fist, twirling a sketch pencil in his other hand. “Payback… as in, you’re going to be my model. Okay?” I almost choked on the sandwich. I swallowed quickly, feeling flustered. “Me? Are you… sure? Don’t you think I’m too sturdy? Like a linebacker? Won’t that look bad in a drawing?” I looked at him, terrified of his reaction. I was dreading seeing the same look of disgust I saw in Ethan’s eyes. Leo put down his pencil and sat up, looking at me. Like he was looking at his muse. “Your physique has power. It’s a healthy kind of beauty. It’s beautiful.” His voice was serious, and his eyes held a sincere appreciation I had never seen before. A strange warmth, both sweet and sharp, spread through me. “Give me ten minutes.” Leo picked up his pencil and began sketching furiously. I sat perfectly still, terrified to move. My mind was filled with the image of Leo’s sincere, appreciating gaze. Ten minutes passed in a blur. Leo held the sketch out to me. I had no idea I could look like that. The corners of my eyes stung. I felt like I might cry. Then I noticed a tiny line of text in the bottom right corner of the paper: [Beauty comes in many forms, and you are unique.]

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While tipping on a male idol group’s livestream, I accidentally tapped the wrong button and sent a virtual Yacht to my favorite guy’s teammate. The guy I usually tipped played it cool on stream. But as soon as the camera was off, he—who had been leaving me on read for a month—sent me a DM for the first time. [I’m going to send you 52 Carnivals right now to make up for it, otherwise I might just have to punish you, babe.] I froze. A minute later, I received a DM from the teammate I accidentally tipped. [Thank you so much! That was my first time ever receiving a Yacht. I’ll remember this forever. /Heart] Oh. So this is the kind of emotional return you’re supposed to get when you tip. Guess I’ll just switch to supporting the one who actually appreciates it. Later, when the original guy saw me casually drop 520 Carnivals on his teammate, he had a complete meltdown. He started screaming on stream, demanding I get a refund, insisting I must have clicked the wrong person. 01 When I received the DM from Tyler, I felt a bit uncomfortable. But then I thought about it. It was my fault for sending the gift to the wrong person, which messed up his chance to shine. Plus, I had exclusively tipped Tyler in this stream room. Suddenly sending a top-tier gift like a Sports Car to his rival—it was understandable he’d feel a way about it. After all, even heartthrobs are allowed to have a little temper. Just as I was about to send him ten Yachts to make up for it, another notification popped up. [System Notification: KU-Liam has followed you.] Immediately after, a DM popped up from that account. KU-Liam: [Thank you so much! That was my first time ever receiving a Yacht. I’ll remember this forever. /Heart] I paused for a few seconds, clicking into his profile to enlarge his avatar, barely managing to connect it to the face under the heavy filters on the livestream. Liam. I think he’s the guy I just accidentally sent the gift to. Looking closer, his face actually wasn’t any less handsome than Tyler’s. The styling on the stream clearly wasn’t doing him any favors; he looked much more refined and handsome in his natural state. But it couldn’t be helped. He had only joined a few days ago and was always relegated to the back row. In a ten-person group stream, if you could see two-thirds of his face on screen, it was considered a good day. He clearly didn’t know that the tip earlier was just a blunder. His words were actually quite… sincere. It was just one Yacht. There was no need to explain it so clearly and ruin his happiness. I didn’t plan to reply. Just as I was about to exit, he sent another message. KU-Liam: [I promise I’ll work even harder on my dancing! I won’t let your encouragement go to waste!] Wow, he really was a pitiful little underdog that made you want to root for him. He thanked me multiple times for just one Yacht. I politely replied with a [Keep it up], then prepared to head back to the stream to make it up to Tyler. But right at that moment, my phone started blowing up with notifications. They were all from Tyler. KU-Tyler: [?] [Did you not see my message?] [Why aren’t you tipping me yet?] [What’s the meaning of this?] [So, you’re purposely tipping someone else to make me mad?] [Fine.] [I get it.] I was completely confused and replied with a [?] Only to receive a red exclamation mark indicating the message couldn’t be sent. ? Wait, he actually blocked me?! A surge of anger flared up in my chest. I’ve been supporting him for two months, dropping at least a hundred grand on his streams. Just because I accidentally sent one gift to the wrong person, he’s throwing a tantrum at me? Fine. If he thinks he’s too good for my money, there are plenty of others who will gladly take it. I’m done playing his game. Just as I was angrily about to delete the app, my eyes inadvertently caught the message from that pitiful little underdog again. My thumb stopped hovering over the delete button. I can be ruthless when I want to be. But the one thing I can’t resist is a handsome, struggling underdog who’s trying his best. Even if it was an act, at least he was willing to put in the effort to put on a show for me. So, I marched right back into the livestream. 02 As soon as I re-entered the stream, the host specifically called me out. “Our boy Tyler’s top supporter, Yacht Queen, is back! Oh man, Tyler’s got this in the bag tonight.” This boy band streaming group had only been formed two months ago and was still in its growing phase. They didn’t have that many hardcore fans, so I was definitely one of the top tippers. And I have OCD; whenever I tip, I only send Yachts (worth about $100 each). It’s very memorable. Hearing the host mention my name, Tyler gave a barely perceptible smirk. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual aloof demeanor. Right then, a new viewer with a beautiful girl as her avatar joined and immediately sent him a Sports Car. [This guy is so handsome, completely my type. Love it.] The host thanked her for the tip as usual, and read her comment out loud. Tyler broke into a shy smile. After finishing his dance routine, as if deliberately trying to make me mad, he actually made a heart shape with his hands—a rare occurrence—and personally thanked her. “Thank you for the Sports Car, gorgeous! Please keep supporting me!” The chat went crazy. [Holy shit, I’ve never seen Tyler act so shy but enthusiastic.] [First time seeing Tyler make a heart shape! Rich girls, drop more Sports Cars! We love to see it!] [The girl who sent the gift is so generous, and looking at her profile, she’s actually a real beauty.] [A genuine rich, beautiful heiress. Is our wild boy Tyler actually falling for her?] Perhaps because they had never seen Tyler in such a good mood, many of his older fans also started throwing gifts. Bouquets and hot air balloons, big and small, kept popping up on the screen. It was incredibly lively. Tyler’s smile grew wider and wider, and he was exceptionally cooperative with the interactions. The finger hearts and ‘thank yous’ never stopped. Even the host remarked in surprise: “What good thing happened to Tyler tonight? He’s in such a great mood!” I was getting even more pissed off. Normally, I drop $100 Yachts on him, yet I’ve never seen him give this kind of reaction. No matter how many I sent, he just gave a faint smile. A new viewer casually throws him a small gift, and he’s capable of giving this much emotional feedback. So what were all my Yachts for? In a fit of rage, I opened the gift menu and sent another Yacht straight to Liam, the guy from earlier. “Thank you, Yacht Queen, for sending Tyler…” Before he could finish saying “Yacht,” the host choked on his habitual thank-you speech. After seeing it clearly, he immediately corrected himself: “Oh, my apologies, I misread it. The Yacht is for Liam.” Hearing this, all the members on screen clearly froze for two seconds, all turning their heads to look at Liam in the back row. Liam looked in disbelief, stepping forward with a confused expression. And Tyler, who was originally standing center stage, looked even more shocked than Liam. 03 After staring at the monitor screen for a few seconds to confirm, Tyler reluctantly moved aside. Liam stood in the center, visibly a bit panicked. When he recovered, he bowed deeply toward the camera in gratitude. Just as he opened his mouth to say, “Thank you,” I sent him another Yacht. Liam was just about to start dancing, but seeing the new Yacht, he hurried to bow and thank me again. When he stood up, I sent another one. For a while, the screen was a continuous stream of Yachts, one after another. Liam was dumbfounded. Tyler’s face was indescribably ugly. His whole body radiated anxiety as he looked around, looking like he wanted to jump through the screen, grab me, and demand an explanation. The host excitedly announced the tips, his voice getting higher with each one. The chat was refreshing at lightning speed. [Holy shit! Yacht Queen is flexing her financial muscles again!] [Yacht Queen always delivers.] [Wait a minute, did she send it to the wrong person?] [Did she click the wrong guy?] [Sis, stop tipping! You’ve got the wrong guy!] [Yacht Queen only ever tips Tyler, why is she tipping the new guy? Is it a system glitch?] [No way, they’re forcefully promoting the new guy! Sis, hurry up and report this rigged stream to the platform!] […] Even the host, after excitedly giving thanks more than ten times, couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “Did she click the wrong person…” Liam bowed in thanks over and over again, tears welling up in his eyes. Seeing that I had no intention of stopping, he anxiously tried to persuade me: “Please stop, that’s enough. It really is enough.” “Thank you so much! I will definitely keep working hard!” As soon as he finished speaking, I dropped 52 Yachts on him in one breath. I love this feeling of reciprocity. It was a million times more satisfying than tipping that fake, aloof, manipulative Tyler. I’m dropping hard cold cash, I should at least enjoy the feeling of being appreciated. Besides, with Liam standing in the center for so long, I got a really good look at him. Putting aside the sloppy makeup and styling, his facial features were truly excellent. Especially those long legs; when he danced, it was lethal. The other streamers were all wearing platform shoes, but his soles were super thin. Even so, he was still half a head taller than Tyler. No wonder he got banished to the back. Seeing so many Yachts, and not a single one for him, Tyler’s face reached the peak of ugliness. Unable to hold it in any longer, he flipped out on the spot. He shoved Liam, who was standing in the center, and walked out of the frame in visible displeasure. Even through the screen, you could hear him hastily muttering something to the host before disappearing. “There must be a glitch in the system. The Yachts she tipped me are all going to someone else. I’m going to go talk to them.” Ten seconds after Tyler left. I received a new message on my phone. KU-Tyler: [Sis, look closely before you tip. You’re clicking on the wrong person, do you know that? Fuck.] 04 The message stayed there for barely two seconds before being rapidly unsent by the other party. Oh? I thought I was blocked? How did he add himself back? I thought he had so much backbone. Just as I finished marveling, the chat box popped up with a bunch of new messages. KU-Tyler: [Sis, pay attention when you click on gifts, you’re sending them all to someone else.] [Why don’t you contact customer service for a refund?] [Whatever, it’s fine if you can’t get a refund.] [You can just tip me again, but do it slowly and make sure you click the right person!] [?] [Why aren’t you replying? Are you mad at me?] [Sorry about earlier, seeing you tip someone else made me a little jealous. I spoke a bit too hastily, please don’t overthink it.] [Sis, it’s a deal then. Come back to the stream soon, okay?] Tsk tsk. I’ve known Tyler for so long, and this is the first time he’s initiated this much conversation. Too bad it’s too late. I’m completely over him. I didn’t reply, nor did I block him. I just left him hanging, then closed the TikTok app. I had originally tuned into their group stream for market research. My company was planning to acquire their agency, KU Media, but I didn’t expect to get slightly hooked after watching a few of this C-list group’s streams. I was drawn to Tyler’s vibe after seeing him a couple of times. He perfectly fit my aesthetic. High nose bridge, smooth facial structure, and especially those inadvertently exposed, lean muscles. Tyler was a bit different from the other streamers. He was aloof, but he played the sexy card just right. He also had a bit of a proud streak. Unlike those streamers who, with just a little bit of good looks, practically had “I want to empty your wallet” written all over their faces. At first, I was just bored. Whenever I scrolled past him, I’d toss him a Yacht, and he would just give a small smile of thanks. He didn’t act like my assistant said, where in these low-tier streams, even a $10 gift would get you a personal thank you from the streamer. A couple of days later, I dropped 10 Yachts at once, and he DM’d me that night to thank me. A few days after that, I tuned into the stream just as he was about to lose a PK (a competitive streaming battle) and looked like he was going to cry. I instantly dropped 100 Yachts, winning the PK for him. That’s when he finally started interacting with me. Even after we started interacting, he remained aloof. Except for complaining about bad performance, high pressure, and hinting that I should send gifts, he rarely chatted much. I didn’t really care. Life is boring; admiring a handsome guy on the internet was a nice distraction, a mutually beneficial transaction. Anyway, it’s not like I’m short on cash. But I never expected that the easier I was to talk to, the less I asked for, the less he cared about my feelings. Last month, I was just too busy with a business trip and didn’t log on for three days, and he gave me the cold shoulder for a whole month. He acted like he was absolutely certain I would never stop liking him, throwing a tantrum at the drop of a hat. If you love someone, you might be willing to give without expecting anything in return. But I don’t love him, so why should I spend my money just to be treated poorly? If this one doesn’t know how to behave, I’ll just find another one. The next one will definitely be more obedient. 05 After staying off the app for three busy days at work. The acquisition of KU Media was finally finalized. Bored, I opened TikTok again, and my phone immediately flooded with dozens of notification pings. The most recent one was from Liam. I scrolled up through the chat history. The night after that stream ended, he stayed up writing an 800-word essay expressing his overwhelming shock and gratitude. He even proactively gave me his personal WeChat ID. Even though I didn’t reply to anything, he persisted with morning and evening greetings over the past few days. I thought about it, didn’t add his WeChat, and just politely replied with a [Thank you]. Exiting that chat, I glanced at the messages from Tyler right below. [Sis, why haven’t you come back to the stream to send gifts?] [Didn’t we have an agreement?] [Sis, come back to the stream and tip me. If you don’t, I won’t even win the championship tonight… It’s really embarrassing.] [Sis, please don’t leave me hanging at a crucial moment. I’m in the middle of a PK, hurry up!] [Reply to my message.] [?] [You’ll regret this.] That day, Tyler’s attitude seemed to get worse and worse the more he talked. I saw he was up until 4 AM. He probably stayed up all night stewing in anger. Perhaps realizing I wasn’t going to reply, he didn’t send anything for the next few days, and his tone gradually returned to a somewhat flattering one. He sent messages every day trying to test the waters. [Sis, I really was jealous yesterday, and my tone wasn’t great. Can you let it go?] [I lost again last night and had to do a punishment. You should be over your anger by now, right?] [Sis, why aren’t you here today either?] [Sis, I was wrong. Will you come see me again?] [Whether you’re here or not, I’m always here.] [I’ll always be waiting for you in the stream. /Heart] Most of the messages were sent at three or four in the morning. The absolute kicker was: He actually sent me several high-res photos of his abs. Tsk. Looks like without me as his sugar mama, he’s not so nonchalant after all. I zoomed in and took a closer look. They were alright. I didn’t even know if they were photoshopped. Thinking about it, he’s just a newbie with no real-world experience. And moving forward, they will all be artists under my company. Looking at that face that still has to earn me money, I decided not to block him for now. I didn’t reply to anything, exited the messages, and clicked into their livestream. I planned to spread the wealth tonight and give each member a tip, letting them see how generous their future boss is. As soon as I entered the stream, I realized my timing was impeccable. Tyler and Liam were just about to start a dance battle PK. 06 I hadn’t been around for a few days, and as soon as the host saw my ID, he enthusiastically greeted me. “Wow, our Yacht Queen is finally here tonight! Long time no see, sis! Welcome back!” On screen, both Tyler and Liam clearly froze. Surprise quickly washed over both their faces. It had only been three days, and the styling team had clearly put more effort into Liam this time. I guess his popularity had risen over the past couple of days after being seen by more people that night. I obligingly replied with a smiley face in the comment section. The host was getting incredibly hyped up: “Yacht Queen is now the top supporter for both our Tyler and Liam. I wonder who she’s planning to support tonight. “Oh man, this is so tough. It’s like choosing between the palm of your hand and the back of your hand…” While the host was rambling excitedly, the expressions of the two guys on stage shifted. Liam looked a bit anxious and uneasy. Tyler’s face instantly darkened, his eyes shifting erratically. Tyler glanced off-camera, then signaled the host that he needed to adjust his outfit. As soon as he stepped off-screen, two messages popped up at the top of my phone. [Sis, I knew you’d come back to see me.] [How about this: if you drop 100 Carnivals (worth about $400 each) on me tonight, I’ll immediately give you my personal WeChat.] [And I have even more risqué private photos…] … Seriously, who asked for his WeChat? I couldn’t be bothered to respond. Just as I was preparing to send each person ten Yachts as a welcoming gift, a new message popped up at the top of the screen. [That fat old cow is finally back. Make sure to suppress me later to manipulate her into sending me gifts!] 07 I was shocked. My finger immediately clicked on the notification. And I swiftly took a screenshot. Within three seconds, the message was unsent by the other party. This Tyler. He really takes the money and then insults the person giving it. I was so mad I quickly checked my profile. I had been too lazy to create my own account back then, so I was logged into my grandma’s account. The male streamer she used to be a fan of got canceled and banned. In a fit of rage, she abandoned the account and quit TikTok. The avatar was a classic “blooming wealth” flower picture that older people love, and the profile was filled with videos of landscapes, flowers, and plants. Oh, I suddenly realized that among the hundreds of boring short videos, there was actually a video showing her face, dancing to a popular song with her friends. No wonder Tyler scrolled through all those videos. My grandma is indeed a bit plump, but he had no right to use a term like “fat old cow” to insult an older woman. Especially one who had tipped him so much money. Fuming with anger, I returned to the livestream. As soon as I got in, without a second thought, I dropped ten Yachts on Liam. The PK hadn’t even started, but the stream was instantly hyped up by me. Seeing this, Liam was thrilled and seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. He immediately expressed his gratitude: “Thank you so much! You really don’t have to spend so much. Just being here and watching is enough.” After saying that, he even made a finger heart for me. Tyler froze. After the host did his routine thank yous, I went down the line, sending ten Yachts to the other 8 members each. When I tipped Liam earlier, everyone was relatively calm, just envious and congratulatory. But when I went down the line and tipped everyone else, the members on screen and the comment section were both stunned. They were all beaming with joy, thanking me non-stop. The livestream exploded. The viewer count skyrocketed, with tens of thousands of people flooding in all at once. When it came down to just Tyler left, the host intentionally raised his voice. “Yacht Queen is really bringing the heat tonight! Surprise after surprise! Now, only Tyler is left. “I wonder how much our top supporter, who has always backed Tyler the most, will drop on him tonight? Let’s wait and see.” As soon as he finished speaking, the entire room erupted again. Tyler’s face also showed a faint glimmer of anticipation. The chat was going wild with speculation. [Our boy Tyler is her favorite, it’s gotta be at least ten Carnivals to start.] [To the person above, our top supporter never sends anything else; doesn’t everyone know she only sends Yachts?] [I bet she drops 100 Yachts on Tyler.] [I’ve been watching this stream since it started two months ago. Yacht Queen has dropped at least a few hundred grand on Tyler.] [Wow, this is the power of a rich woman!] [I hope the flop streamer I stan finds a top supporter like this too.] […] The more excited the chat and the host got, the more relaxed Tyler’s expression became. He seemed certain that I would definitely drop a massive gift to support him. Aside from Liam, who was standing to the side with a forced smile, everyone else was incredibly hyped. I suddenly felt a little bad. Not sending a single gift would seem a bit too petty. So, under the watchful eyes of thousands. I sent Tyler ten. Little Hearts. Adding up to a grand total of one dollar. 08 Tyler was dumbfounded. His face instantly flushed bright red. The chat was also dumbfounded. The screen was filled with floating *[?]*s. The host was the first to react, laughing to smooth things over. “Our top supporter must have clicked too fast and hit the wrong button. Let’s give her a little more time.” Tyler’s expression finally looked a bit better. The whole room seemed to have forgotten the upcoming dance battle. Silently waiting for me to drop the next big gift. But I was getting impatient and just typed a comment: “Aren’t they supposed to be having a dance battle? Why haven’t they started yet?” The host had sharp eyes and immediately saw my comment, quickly replying: “Don’t worry, everyone! The sister wants to see the dance first. She’s building suspense and will drop the big surprise later. “Let’s start the dance!” Hearing this, Tyler finally let out a sigh of relief. The chat also seemed to understand. [So the top supporter is building suspense.] [I knew she wouldn’t leave our Tyler hanging. She’s been his biggest supporter for so long.] [She really knows how to hype up the atmosphere.] [Looking forward to the rich lady’s epic move!] […] Tyler held his breath. He gave Liam a disdainful look and aggressively took the prominent position closer to the front of the stage. Due to screen space, Liam was squeezed slightly towards the back. Even from that angle, they still looked about the same height. Tyler unbuttoned two more buttons, perfectly exposing more of his abs. Before starting, he even winked provocatively at the camera before returning to his controlled expression, dancing energetically to the music. Both of them were good-looking, but one was the cold, domineering CEO type, and the other was the restrained, elegant type. It was quite pleasing to the eye. I remembered Liam’s 800-word essay mentioned that he was professionally trained in dance. You couldn’t really tell when they were apart, but now, side-by-side, the comparison was clear. Obviously, Liam’s movements were more fluid and dynamic than Tyler’s. After all, dancing this kind of sexy, alluring routine isn’t like swinging a sledgehammer; just using brute force doesn’t necessarily yield results. On the PK stage, both were giving it their all. Pecs and abs, things that should or shouldn’t be exposed, were “accidentally” flashed a few times. There were significantly more tips than usual, including quite a few expensive ones like Carnivals. Very quickly, Tyler took a significant lead over Liam. After all, he had been promoted as the center since day one, while Liam was new, had fewer opportunities to shine, and fewer fans. Seeing that the progress bar was over halfway done and I still hadn’t made a move, the host got a bit anxious: “Both our Tyler and Liam are going all out tonight. Thanks to our top supporter, we’re all getting a visual feast. “The sister still hasn’t made a move yet. I wonder how much she plans to tip Tyler tonight?” As soon as the host finished speaking. My 520 Yachts made a grand appearance on the screen. All of them sent to Liam. 09 The entire room went silent for a few seconds. Even through the screen, I could feel many people gasping. The host was the first to react, his voice cracking with excitement: “Five hundred and twenty! “Yachts! “Thank you to our top supporter for sending Tyler a fleet of Yachts! “Let’s congratulate Tyler on a completely crushing victory!!” Tyler had been keeping an eye on the tips while dancing. When he first saw the gifts, he went from surprised to ecstatic. Coupled with the host’s words, he was so excited he forgot his dance moves. But when he leaned in to look at the monitor screen next to him, he realized something was wrong. Such a massive display of wealth was not for him. At this moment, everyone else seemed to finally process my baller move. On the PK health bar, Liam had completely obliterated Tyler with an absolute advantage. The host quickly and stutteringly corrected himself: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I misread that earlier. “The five hundred and twenty Yachts were all sent to our Liam! “Congratulations to Liam on the win! “Thank you, top supporter!” Special effects exploded on the screen, one after another. It went on for a long time without ending. I have to say, the visual effect bought with cold, hard cash is just spectacular. The chat was refreshing so fast it was impossible to read the text; everyone was just there for the spectacle. The livestream’s popularity climbed to the top few spots on the entire platform. Amidst the grand special effects, Tyler’s expression slowly shattered. From disbelief, to serious contemplation, and finally to a furious, flushed red. If there was an anger meter above his head, I bet it would be maxed out. As the gift effects grew more intense, Tyler could barely stand still, completely losing control of his facial expressions. Equally as shell-shocked as him was Liam. He seemed completely unable to believe it, still standing frozen in place. Seeing this, the host quickly reminded him: “Liam, hurry up and thank your top supporter! What are you spacing out for?” Liam snapped out of it, tears welling up in his eyes again. “Really, thank you so much. “I never thought anyone would tip me this much.” He bowed deeply toward the screen, moved to tears, and didn’t get up for a long time. The host remarked on Liam’s good luck. Noticing Tyler’s bad mood, he quickly tried to console him: “It’s okay, it’s okay. This is just the first round; there are still two more. “Tyler, don’t just stand there, hurry up and beg your top supporter! She’s always been so good to you; beg her to send you 520 in the next round too!” “Beg my ass, fuck! “I’m done streaming.” Tyler’s face turned even blacker upon hearing this. He threw out a curse word and walked off-screen. 10 Looks like he’s having a meltdown. The chat saw it too, and random viewers started mocking him. [Are you kidding me? If you can’t handle losing, don’t play.] [It’s not like the times when you used your high popularity to suppress and bully other streamers.] [Exactly, what’s with the attitude?] [Wait, wasn’t Yacht Queen always supporting Tyler? Why is she suddenly Liam’s hardcore fan?] [Just saying, this streamer has always had a bad temper. I tipped him a small gift before, and he didn’t even acknowledge it.] [Yeah, I noticed he never gives the top supporter a good attitude. I even thought it was the company using bots to launder money. No matter how much attitude he gives, she kept tipping.] [I have to smile and provide good service when I do my delivery side hustle. If you’re in this line of work, you should have a service mindset.] [If you can do it, do it. If not, get off. We’re not spending money to watch you throw a tantrum!] […] Only a few hardcore fans tried weakly to defend him, but his black face and walking off spoke for themselves. Seeing the chat getting out of control, the host quickly tried to smooth things over. “No, no, Tyler might just not be feeling well. He went to get some water and will be right back. Everyone is misunderstanding. “Mods, kick out those accounts trying to stir up drama. We’re starting round two immediately.” The host’s words weren’t very convincing, and the comments kept flying by. Two direct messages popped up on my screen. KU Tyler: [Dumb old bitch.] KU Tyler: [Just wait. Don’t think you’re all that just because you have some dirty money!] I was incredibly shocked, so much so that I forgot to take a screenshot. Wait, he actually dared to curse at me? I angrily clicked into the chat box. Those two messages, just like the previous times, were swiftly unsent by the other party. I sent a [?] over. A red exclamation mark immediately appeared on the page. Blocked by him again. At the same time, the system popped up a notification: [You have been removed from the KU-Tyler fan group.] Great. Just great. My anger reached its boiling point. He just kicked a steel plate shaped like his future boss. Tonight, I’m going to make sure you truly understand what it means to mess with a sugar mama. I originally planned to call it a night, but since he wants to play, I won’t let this go easily. I made a phone call to my assistant. Ordering the CEO of KU to ensure this Tyler gets back on the livestream immediately. I had reviewed his management contract. To get more resources to make himself famous, he hadn’t hesitated to sign an unequal treaty with the company. A ten-year contract. Astronomical breach of contract fee. So no matter how reluctant he is, as long as I don’t let him go, he has to obediently make money for me from now on. Hanging up the phone, I returned to the livestream. Besides Tyler’s absence, everyone else had returned to the normal state of a group stream. When the host saw me return, he greeted me again. Noticeably more sincere than before. I didn’t say anything, just quietly watched the time. In less than five minutes, Tyler indeed returned with a dark face. But this time, he went back to his position on stage. Another glamorous avatar also entered the livestream. Tyler’s number two supporter.

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I went back to his place last week. I wanted to talk, to see if we could fix things, maybe get back together. I pushed the door open, ready to apologize. And I walked in on him leaning down, kissing another girl. Not just any girl. It was Chloe, my college roommate of four years. She was wearing my favorite silk nightgown. Just last night, in our shared apartment, she had suddenly announced she was moving out. She told me that the guy she’d been chasing forever had finally accepted her confession. He wanted her to move in immediately. Like an idiot, I congratulated her. I was genuinely happy she finally got what she wanted. How was I supposed to know her “dream guy” was my ex-boyfriend, Caleb Davis? We’d only been broken up for a week. Talk about a seamless transition. 1 I stood in the doorway, paralyzed with awkwardness. Chloe saw me first. She shrieked, breaking the kiss. “Maya?!” Caleb turned slowly. When our eyes met, there was a flash of surprise in his, but it was quickly replaced by an icy, detached calm. He adjusted his shirt, unfazed, and walked toward me. He stopped just inches away, looking down at me. “What do you want?” he asked. I stared at his collarbone. There was a bright red hickey right there. It was so vivid it hurt to look at. It felt like someone had shoved a fistful of cotton into my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. The words I’d practiced—about begging for another chance—died in my throat. I couldn’t have spoken if I tried. Chloe walked over, offering a weak, slightly apologetic smile. “I didn’t bring my overnight bag,” she said, gesturing to the silk clinging to her body. “I just borrowed your nightgown. Hope you don’t mind.” My head was buzzing. It felt like an explosive device had gone off in my ears. Ignoring my silence, she rushed to defend herself. “Maya, don’t get the wrong idea. Caleb and I only started talking after you guys broke up.” Watching her desperation to clear her name, I felt like a clown. It took me forever to find a logical lie to answer Caleb’s question. “I still have stuff here,” I managed to choke out. “I came to get it.” Caleb was silent for a moment, his face a perfect mask of indifference. “Go ahead.” It was only when I went further inside that I realized what that silence meant. The potted succulent I’d placed on the windowsill was gone. In the bathroom, our matching couples’ toothbrushes had been replaced with a completely different set. The curtains, the bedsheets, the duvet cover—they had all been changed to Chloe’s favorite colors. Even the photo on the bedside table—the one of Caleb and me when we were kids—was gone. In its place was a framed photo of just Chloe. There was nothing for me to pack. This little apartment, the one Caleb and I had decorated together— It was completely scrubbed clean of me. One week. It had only been one week. Everything I owned had been thrown into a single duffel bag and dumped unceremoniously in the corner of the small balcony. Along with my dog. 2 It was a sticky-hot midsummer night. The air was thick and humid, making it hard to catch my breath. I squatted on the cluttered balcony, looking at Lucky, my dog, slumped sadly inside his travel crate. Lucky was a stray Caleb and I had rescued on our first anniversary. We named him Lucky because we felt lucky to have found each other that day. Back then, Caleb had wrapped his arms around me tightly, whispering and smirk, “Every time you call his name, I want you to remember how I feel about you.” Everything was different now. “Lucky,” I whispered. His ears twitched, then stood straight up. He saw it was me and started whining excitedly, ready to jump all over me like he always did. Then he realized he was trapped in the crate and settled down, just looking at me and wagging his tail. My eyes burned, uncontrolled. The tidal wave of grief I’d been suppressing finally broke over me. I stormed back into the living room. “I don’t care about the other stuff,” I said, my voice shaking. “But Lucky was abused before we got him. He’s terrified of being crated alone—” “You know the situation,” Caleb interrupted. He didn’t look at me; he just glanced at Chloe. His tone was perfectly flat. “She’s deathly afraid of dogs.” The rest of my words died in my throat. …She’s afraid of dogs. So that was the reason. A dull, throbbing ache began to spread through my entire body. 3 I had first noticed something off between Caleb and Chloe about two months ago. Graduation was approaching. He had just accepted a great job offer and was incredibly busy. If I texted him at night, I wouldn’t get a reply until morning. When I called, he’d hang up after a few sentences. “Oh, stop overthinking it. He’s just stressed with finals and the new job,” Chloe had told me then, comforting me as I sat on my bed feeling miserable. On Valentine’s Day, Chloe came home and handed me two movie tickets. I wanted to fix things with Caleb, so I invited him out. Halfway through the movie, he seemed completely detached, constantly checking his phone. “Maya, I have to take this call outside. It’s about a group project. Be right back.” Before I could even answer, he grabbed his jacket and hurried out. Caleb never came back. Not even after the credits rolled. I walked out with the crowd, and I saw him leaning against the far wall of the lobby, waiting. He was looking down, deep in thought. I noticed something then. His button-down shirt was fastened wrong. The top two buttons were in the wrong holes, creating a bunch in the fabric. When he saw me, he just offered a terse, “Project call went long. I lost track of time.” “What kind of project takes an entire movie to discuss?” I asked. What was his reply? He didn’t even bother to make up a convincing lie. “If you’re going to be paranoid, I can’t help you.” Back in our shared apartment, I was scrolling through social media, my heart sinking. And there it was. Chloe’s latest post. A photo of two cups of milk tea, half-drunk. And two movie stubs. No text, just a heart emoji. The apartment was silent. I could hear Chloe’s shallow breathing from the other room. I felt like the walls were closing in on me. I texted her. Were you at the theater across the street from the one on Main Street tonight? Chloe: Yeah. Why? Maya: Were you with the guy you like? Chloe was silent for a long time. Then: Yeah. Later that week, I went for a walk on the campus quad with Caleb. I was walking ahead of him, wrapped in silence. Caleb, sensing my mood, caught up to grab my hand. “What’s wrong?” I only said one thing. “Chloe was at that same movie theater the other night.” The air between us went still. But only for a second. Caleb tightened his grip on my hand. “Maya, that’s just a coincidence.” I looked into his eyes. They seemed so sincere, so apologetic. I didn’t pull my hand away. We’d been together for so long. We had always assumed we were each other’s futures. I shouldn’t doubt him based on a hunch. Besides, I knew Chloe had had a massive crush on a guy for four years. I’d seen his photo. She hadn’t even dated anyone else, just waiting for him. She wouldn’t be with Caleb. There’s no way. Probably. 4 Maybe it was my imagination, but Caleb was different after that day. Cold. Distant. As finals approached, Caleb got even busier. We hadn’t seen each other in a week. Finally, on Caleb’s birthday, I baked a cake from scratch and walked to the off-campus house he shared with some other guys. I pushed the door open, expecting a small surprise for him. I walked in to find a huge party. Caleb was front and center, about to cut the cake. Chloe was right next to him. She was practically tucked into his armpit. Her hand was resting on top of his, both of them holding the knife handle, ready to slice downward. The room went dead silent. Everyone was staring at me. Caleb looked up. His expression was blank. He didn’t remove his hand from hers. “Go on,” he said to her, totally ignoring me. But Chloe pulled her hand back, giving me a complicated, shadowed look. Someone from Caleb’s group quickly jumped in to diffuse the tension with a weak lie. “Since it’s also Chloe’s birthday today, we thought we’d save money and have them cut one cake together. Don’t worry about it!” I listened to his poor attempt to hide the truth, and I felt my stomach drop, inch by inch. How could I not worry about it? All the exhaustion, the insecurity, the suspicions of the last few weeks—seeing them like that, everything coalesced into solid, painful proof. After the party, Caleb and I got into a screaming match. Or rather, I single-handedly went into hysterics while he stood there like a statue. “I’m your girlfriend! Why did you throw a birthday party and not invite me?” “You’re too busy? You have time to cut a cake with Chloe, but you can’t text me back for hours?” …Finally, my voice was choking up. “Caleb, do you even still want to be with me?” He didn’t answer. The familiar silence settled back in. I grabbed the back of a chair, my strength failing. I sank to the floor, my face buried in my knees, crying silently. This was the Caleb who used to tell me every little thing. The Caleb who promised to marry me right after graduation. The Caleb who said he’d never let me feel insecure. That Caleb finally had nothing to say to me. In a moment of blind pain, I said it. “I’m done. Let’s break up.” He didn’t even flinch. He just nodded coldly. “If that’s what you want.” 5 On the fifth day after we broke up, one of Caleb’s friends tried to act as a mediator. “We just showed up at Caleb’s house to surprise him on his birthday, Maya. He really didn’t know we were all going to be there.” “Okay, maybe he was a little careless, I’ll admit that. But he was drowning in finals and trying to secure that job. Don’t you think you were being a little high-maintenance? Even in a relationship, people need some space, right?” Chloe was equally dismissive. “Maya, I told you I have someone I like! I showed you his picture! Caleb is your boyfriend. How could I ever try to take him from you?” Their logical explanations ate at me. I started to wonder if I was being high-maintenance, if I’d acted impulsively. I made up my mind to talk to Caleb one more time. And I walked in on them kissing. We’d only been broken up for a week, and he had already accepted her confession. Seamless. Zero-day-gap transition. 6 I took Lucky home with me that night. My dorm didn’t allow pets, so I had to temporarily set him up at my parents’ house. That night, curled in my bed, all I could see was them kissing. My brain was betraying me, visualizing even more intimate details. My head pounded, a tight, tense feeling at the base of my skull. I felt sick. I ended up posting a question on an anonymous forum about “zero-day transitions,” venting all the pain and confusion I’d been holding inside. I didn’t expect to wake up to a viral thread. 99+ notifications. Top comment: Why did he agree to the breakup instantly? Reply: I agree. In that short a timeframe, it’s never a ‘seamless transition.’ The third party was just waiting, and the breakup was the perfect excuse to legitimize the affair. The internet investigators quickly got to work. Using my location tags and a few landmarks I had mentioned, they tracked down our university. They actually managed to figure out the people involved were me, Caleb, and Chloe. The thread exploded. Tons of our classmates were weighing in. “Chloe seemed so innocent. I can’t believe she’s a homewrecker. Gross.” “I know the ex. Caleb Davis. He’s the top student in the math department. Definitely a hottie with a great voice. No wonder she stole him…” “Is anyone else noticing that Maya said he had his shirt buttons fastened wrong after the movie? What was he hiding…” I read through the flood of comments, a complex mix of emotions washing over me. My phone was vibrating constantly. Missed calls. Thousands of texts. They were all from Caleb. I decided to just turn my phone off. I went downstairs to grab a coffee. From across the street, I saw Caleb standing at the entrance to my apartment complex. When he saw me come out, he marched over, his face rigid with a cold command. “Take the post down. Now.” 7 Thinking about those anonymous comments, I couldn’t help but ask. “When did it really start between you two?” “The movie night? Or even earlier?” Caleb stared at me, his face devoid of emotion. “Is discussing that even useful now, Maya?” He didn’t answer directly, but he didn’t deny it, either. I had my answer. I actually wanted to laugh. Laugh at myself, laugh at him. “Caleb, if you fell out of love with me, you could have just said so. I wouldn’t have chased you. But why this—” “I’m telling you one last time,” he cut in, his voice dropping an octave, a thin thread of threat in his tone. “Letting this escalate is not going to do you any favors. Take. The. Post. Down.” I looked at him silently, a wave of profound displacement washing over me. Was this the same Caleb I had known my entire life? When we were kids, my family wasn’t doing well. A girl in my class didn’t like me and accused me of stealing from her. She yanked my hair and took a hair clip she’d “searched” from my backpack—a little butterfly clip—and shoved it into my hand. “You’ve probably never even had anything this nice,” she’d sneered. “Stealing a cheap hair clip. Your family must be so poor.” At the time, everyone believed her. Everyone was calling me a thief. Only Caleb stood up. He calmly told the teacher he’d seen the girl put the clip in my bag herself. Because of that day, we started getting closer. But now, this cold, ruthless, and dangerous Caleb was standing in front of me. He didn’t even have the patience to let me finish a single sentence. The person he wanted to protect… it wasn’t me anymore. The wave of desolation and bitterness was almost enough to break me. Finally, I whispered, “No, I won’t take it down,” and ran away. That evening, when I went downstairs to pick up a food delivery, I could feel people staring. “Birds of a feather, right? Neither of them are clean.” “She probably just wants the attention.” I had a bad feeling about this. I went upstairs and turned my phone on. Sure enough, someone had posted an anonymous reply to my original thread—complete with “proof.” Photo Evidence: A year ago, a ‘certain person’ was already hooking up with another guy behind her boyfriend’s back! The post went into vivid detail, describing how I had cheated on Caleb, and that my entire story now was just a play for pity and a way to destroy my ex’s reputation. Her “evidence” was far more convincing than mine. She had photos. In the photos, a tall, striking guy and I were standing in front of a hotel entrance. I was holding his arm, and his hand was around my waist, pulling me in. It was incredibly intimate. The lighting was dim, but you could see the guy looking down at me, his face close to mine. This guy was definitely not Caleb. 8 Probably because my original post had so much traffic, this reply went viral instantly. A portion of the commenters did a complete 1/80, using the same slurs they’d used for Chloe and aiming them at me, only worse. Then, a new comment got upvoted to the top. Wait a minute. Isn’t that Liam Carter, the ‘untouchable’ guy from A&T University? Below it were top-voted replies: “No way! Why would a guy like Liam even look at her?” “I think he has a girlfriend. She’s a humanities major…” “Tsk. So, Maya was a homewrecker herself? The cheater is crying about being cheated on!” … I fought back my rage and dialed Chloe’s number. “You posted that, didn’t you?” Chloe giggled on the other end. “So what if I did?” “Maya, you started this. I’m just hitting back.” I wanted to speak, but a quiet gasp from her interrupted me. “Hold on, I’m on a call,” Chloe giggled, her voice dropping. Caleb’s voice came through, sounding completely distracted. “What’s there to talk about with her?” Then the line went dead. But not before I heard their breathing getting heavy, followed by the soft, distinct sound of a zipper. I hung up violently. My hand was shaking so badly I couldn’t hold the phone. When I finally caught my breath, I sent a text to a number I hadn’t used in months. I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. I will fix it. I’m incredibly sorry. I waited for several minutes before I got a reply. It’s fine. Just two words. I felt a small release of pressure in my chest. I wasn’t actually close to Liam Carter. For him, this was completely unwarranted drama. Liam was a friend of my younger cousin. Six months ago, my cousin had Liam come to town to hang out, and I had helped them book a hotel room. At the time, I was looking down at my phone, replying to a message, and almost walked right into traffic. Liam had grabbed me by the waist and pulled me back, checking if I was okay. Chloe had been there that day. She must have secretly taken the photos. I felt like the world was a truly bizarre place. Even after my cousin, Liam, and I all posted explanations and even shared the original hotel booking information, the commenters were having none of it. Maybe they didn’t want the truth. They wanted the spectacle. They wanted a definitive “who wins” outcome. My life was undeniably affected. Walking around campus, I could feel the stares. That’s when Chloe sent me a text. She wanted to meet and talk, face-to-face. 9 My cousin knew I had a soft heart and was worried I wouldn’t be able to handle her alone. He offered to come, but I refused. I chose a coffee shop for the meeting. When I arrived, Chloe and Caleb were already sitting in a booth. “Oh, look, Maya’s here.” I ignored Chloe. I walked over and sat down, a wall of silence. I could feel a cold, piercing gaze on me, but I stared straight at Chloe. “What did you want to talk about?” “Talk?” Chloe covered her mouth, her laugh exaggerated. “You aren’t exactly in a position to talk terms with me, honey.” I was so angry I laughed. “Chloe, the ‘guy you liked’ for four years… it was Caleb, wasn’t it? You were with him the entire time. You were lying to me.” “Guilty,” she said, practically beaming. “I fell for Caleb on the first day of freshman year.” I tightened my fists under the table. “That time at the movie theater, when Caleb left, did he go to your screen—” “No.” I was confused. “We went to the bathroom,” Chloe said, drawing out the words with a slow, toxic sweetness. “Enough!” I cut her off. I did not want to hear another word about that from her. Even though I’d suspected it, hearing it confirmed still cut like a knife. “Caleb…” She was saying it to me, but I didn’t hear a shred of remorse in her voice. “I can take down the post I made about you and Liam.” “But you… you must take your post down and publicly apologize to me.” “Never!” I was shaking. Chloe suddenly slid a stack of photos across the table. “You won’t take down the post, you won’t publicly apologize—” But the rest of her sentence was lost to me. The moment I saw the photos, my mind went completely blank. “How do you have these photos…” “How do you know…” I stared at the images, my brain completely offline, memory fragments flashing back to that time. After Caleb had stood up for me and proven the girl had framed me for stealing the hair clip, the girl’s group had started targeting me. She had an older brother who was in a gang at a different high school. Most people were too afraid to cross him. Caleb always used to wear long sleeves and long pants, even in summer, and always wore a face mask. When I found out he had injuries, he never said a word, just let me put ointment on him. I used to cry while applying the medication. He would be the one awkwardly comforting me, holding back his own pain. “I’m fine. Really. Stop crying. It doesn’t even hurt.” Then one day, I was walking down an alleyway and saw him. He was on the ground, and the girl’s brother had his boot on Caleb’s hand, pressing his fingers into the asphalt. I realized then what he had been enduring for weeks. I hadn’t even stopped to think. I just rushed over, trying to push the guy’s leg off, begging them to stop hurting Caleb. I warned them the school security was coming. Then he grabbed my face in his powerful, calloused hand. He clearly didn’t believe me. He stared at me with a playful, dangerous grin. “School security? Sounds impressive. Looks like we can’t wait that long. But if you give me something to remember you by, I might let him go.” I fought him with everything I had, but it was useless. The tears were streaming down my face. Caleb was lying on the ground, unconscious. … Later, Caleb had somehow managed to get the photos back. He’d held me so tightly, his eyes red and raw, and whispered, “I am never going to let anyone hurt you again.” … But how did Chloe have these photos? How could she possibly know about this? “How do you know?” Chloe’s voice was neither high nor low, but it felt like a needle driving straight into my heart. “Haven’t you already guessed?” My head was buzzing violently. I turned to look at Caleb. He averted his gaze. 9 (Continued) I went completely still. I could only manage to whisper, “Why…” You told me you would never let anyone hurt me again. Caleb’s face instantly drained of color. He grabbed Chloe’s wrist. “We said we’d just make her take the post down. Why did you bring these photos out?” “…Well, she said she wouldn’t do it! Weren’t you listening?” Chloe tried to pull her hand back, but he held her tightly. She looked at him with a look of pure, toxic betrayal. “Caleb, you are actually crazy. You are the one who told me this whole story. Are you seriously feeling sorry for her now?” Caleb went still. After a long silence, he slowly, stiffly, turned to look at me. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Maya, believe me, I didn’t think she would—” I grabbed the cup of hot coffee in front of me and threw it directly into his face. There was a muffled thud as the heavy ceramic hit his temple. Bright red blood mixed with the thick coffee, streaming down his forehead, instantly soaking half his face. Caleb didn’t even seem to feel the pain. He just stared at me, dumbfounded. In his eyes, I saw my own reflection. I saw a monster. “Caleb, you are actually sickening.” That memory was something I was too terrified to even dream about. For years, I would start shaking at the mere sight of a hair clip. I was beginning to wonder if Caleb had ever actually liked me. If he had, how could he have used that as a talking point with another girl? … We were making such a scene that the other customers were beginning to whisper. “That girl looks familiar…” “Isn’t that Maya Si? The one who stole another girl’s boyfriend and then got cheated on herself?” “Yes, yes, yes! I saw that photo.” Several people pulled out their phones, pointing them at me, ready to record. Caleb suddenly roared, “What are you recording?!” The customers flinched and quickly put their phones away and hurried out. I stared at Chloe. “I am not taking the post down. And I am not apologizing to you.” Chloe was stunned. “Aren’t you afraid that—” I pulled my phone out from where it had been resting face-down on the table. The screen showed an active recording. I pressed stop and saved the file, clenching the phone in my hand. “You can spread those photos all you want,” I said, my voice dead calm. “But the moment you do, that is a crime. I will call the police, and I will hand them this recording of you two using them to blackmail me.” Chloe’s face went bone-white. It took her several seconds to find her voice. “Are you really not afraid of people seeing those photos?” I was silent for a moment. “At the time, I was too young. When I was bullied, I just silently endured it. I was too terrified to tell anyone.” “I was afraid of worrying my parents, afraid of the gossip, afraid of seeing that pity in people’s eyes.” “But when I really think about it, what do I have to be afraid of?” “It wasn’t my fault that I was framed. It wasn’t my fault that a monster took those photos. Even my past self, the one who was too terrified to call the police, wasn’t at fault.” “The fault lies with the bullies. The fault lies with the heartless bystanders who tell jokes. And the fault lies with you two, for using those photos to threaten me.” Chloe’s face was now a complete mask of hatred. “And,” I continued, “your attempt to blackmail me is also illegal. This recording is all I need. I can go to the police right now.” “Graduation is coming up. I assume you don’t want to be expelled.” Chloe stared at me. “What do you want?” I didn’t hesitate. “First, give me the photos, all of them. Second, take down the post about me and Liam Carter. Third, tell the actual truth, and publicly apologize to Liam and to me.” Before Chloe could speak, Caleb quickly said, “Fine.” His lips were trembling, his eyes filled with a complex storm of emotions. “I’m sorry, Maya.” For the next half hour, I watched Chloe pull out her phone, delete the post, and then type out a public apology. The new post went viral instantly. “I knew there was a plot twist!” “A homewrecker is a homewrecker. She stole the guy, and she was good at making up rumors.” “Tsk. Maya seems kinda pitiful.” … I gathered the stack of photos from the table. “Is this all?” “That’s everything.” Caleb’s voice was barely a whisper. “Maya, you don’t need to be so defensive around me.” I didn’t answer him. I packed the photos into my bag, turned around, and walked out of the coffee shop. Behind me, Caleb was calling my name, but I didn’t look back. I walked out of the coffee shop and called my cousin. I just told him it was all fixed. I didn’t mention the photos. After the call, I stood on the street corner for a moment, just letting the desolation wash over me. When I finally caught my breath and was about to call an Uber, a figure walked out of the coffee shop. It was Liam Carter. We both froze for a second. Liam nodded at me. “Maya.”

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