The day we won the National E-Sports Championship, my girlfriend of eight years said she wanted to personally present me with flowers on stage. Standing on the podium, I eagerly pulled out the ring I had hidden, ready to give her a grand proposal. But then, with a bright smile, she handed the bouquet to her “best friend,” Griffin Ashby, right in front of everyone. Under the spotlight, they became the center of everyone’s attention. On the scene and all over Twitter, people showered them with blessings. Griffin’s fans even tagged me in posts: “We told you to stop clinging to our couple. Feeling humiliated now?” I calmly posted a reply: “Respect. Best wishes to you both.” Content Under the dazzling spotlights, I stood on the podium alongside my teammates. Vanessa Larkson, my girlfriend, walked slowly toward me with a bouquet of roses in her hands. She had once said that when I finally won the national championship, she would reveal our relationship during the award ceremony. Tonight, she seemed to have come just for me, holding roses that symbolized love. It was the first time she had ever given me flowers, and her expression was so affectionate. Blushing, I suppressed my excitement, watching her approach with my full attention. In my mind, I planned it all out. The moment she handed me the flowers, I would drop to one knee, take out the ring, and propose to her live in front of the nation. Even though we had argued yesterday over some trivial matters. But hey, what couple doesn’t bicker sometimes? My hand nervously rubbed the ring box in my pocket. “Congratulations on your championship!” Vanessa extended the flowers toward me. Just as I was about to take them with a delighted smile, the bouquet bypassed my hands and landed firmly in the arms of my teammate, Griffin Ashby. Griffin, Vanessa’s “best friend,” had known her longer than I had. The smile on my face froze instantly. Looking at my girlfriend, who gazed at Griffin with affection, I stood dumbfounded before laughing bitterly at myself. It was Griffin. Again. I should’ve seen it coming. To Vanessa, her “best friend” was always more important than her boyfriend. Even our argument yesterday was about Griffin. But I never thought she’d openly hand over a bouquet of roses—symbols of love—to him in front of everyone. Griffin, with his good looks, had a much larger fanbase in the gaming circuit than the rest of us. Did Vanessa not realize what her actions meant, giving him flowers in front of all these people? I quietly slipped the ring back into my pocket as the crowd’s screams reached a fever pitch. The roar was so loud it felt like it could lift the roof off the arena. Amid the camera flashes, everything around me seemed to dim. Before the award ceremony even ended, their sweet moment was already trending on Twitter. Their chemistry as a “shipped pair” sparked countless fans to root for them. Griffin’s fans flooded the video comments, tagging Vanessa and calling her “sister-in-law.” The scene was lively and full of joy. But none of that had anything to do with me. I forced a bitter smile, stepped off the stage, and returned to the locker room alone. Looking at the flood of blessings on Twitter, I suddenly felt exhausted. Maybe this was the perfect moment to end things. So I sent Vanessa a text: “Let’s break up. I won’t get in your way anymore.” The text had barely been sent when Vanessa called. I wasn’t planning to answer. I hung up and grabbed a ride back to my apartment to pack my things. The apartment was one we had shared. Since we’d broken up, there was no way I could keep living under the same roof as her. She could have the place. While I packed, Vanessa bombarded me with messages: “What do you mean, break up?” “Are you throwing a tantrum again? Man up!” “Alright, everyone’s saying we should celebrate. Come on, Griffin and the others are waiting for you!” Every word revolved around Griffin. She handed roses to another man and turned around to call me petty. I looked at my phone and laughed coldly. Then I turned it off, zipped up my suitcase, and left. With no time to find another place, I returned to the dorms at Apex Gaming Base, where the club had prepared rooms for the players. The base was quiet since everyone else was out celebrating. I instinctively powered on my computer and logged into the game for practice. Only in the game could I find some peace.
It was late at night when Vanessa called again. I was still practicing. I glanced at the phone on the desk, hit the mute button, and ignored it. Then came a barrage of texts: “Why aren’t you home yet?” “Where have you been?” “The flowers I picked for you are wilting. Where are you? Didn’t you say you liked flowers from me?” Do I need flowers given out of guilt? I turned off the screen, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. She was always like this—giving a slap followed by a sweet treat. I used to love her so much that I didn’t see a problem with it. I even convinced myself it meant she cared about me. But now, I’ve woken up. I see through her. It was time to leave. No one is irreplaceable. Neither her nor me. … That night, I stayed up training and then slept through the next afternoon. When I finally made it to the computer room, Vanessa was sitting in my chair, lost in thought. I wasn’t surprised she’d found me. Where else could I go besides the dorm? Hearing my footsteps, she turned and saw me. “Where were you last night? I called and messaged you! I thought something happened to you!” Clearing my throat, I replied flatly, “I slept early.” She looked stunned and frowned in confusion. “What’s with you today? You’re acting all weird.” True. The old me would’ve been thrilled to see her showing up here, eager to unload all my recent frustrations onto her. Now, there was only silence. Naturally, she found it strange. She also seemed to forget I had already broken up with her yesterday—or how she had humiliated me in public. Before I could say anything, she spoke again. “Today’s Griffin’s three-year anniversary with the team. He’s hosting a dinner. Let’s go together.” I wanted to make up an excuse to decline. But as teammates, my absence might create unnecessary trouble. Besides, I needed to tell everyone we had broken up. I nodded indifferently, got dressed, and followed her to the hotel. When we arrived, I realized the event wasn’t just for Griffin’s friends. It was practically a fan meetup. Before I even entered, the commotion from the Bellwood Grand Hall was deafening. I glanced toward Vanessa, but she had disappeared into the crowd. “Looking for Vanessa? I’ll take you to her,” came Scarlett Monroe’s voice, appearing out of nowhere. She led me upstairs to a private suite, where I could see the stage below. Vanessa appeared, pushing a giant cake while holding a string of pink and white balloons. It was Griffin’s surprise gift. The fans screamed wildly, chanting for them to “get married now” and calling Vanessa “sister-in-law.” Scarlett raised her eyebrows at me and gestured toward the stage. “Don’t you think they look perfect together?” I swallowed hard, bitterness rising in my throat. They did. They really did.
Vanessa had never put this much effort into anything for me. Even on my birthday, when I asked for a cake, she’d only complain impatiently, saying, “We’re adults—why bother with pointless formalities?” Yet here she was, going out of her way to prepare such a grand surprise for Griffin in front of everyone. Turns out, people only put in effort for the ones they truly care about. Scarlett Monroe observed my reaction, clearly satisfied by how much it stung. She smirked, a sly, knowing smile that twisted like a thorn in my heart. After the event, Vanessa and Griffin returned to the private suite together. Scarlett immediately hooked her arm around Vanessa’s and teased, “Vanessa, pulling off such a big surprise for Griffin—aren’t you afraid your boyfriend will get jealous?” Vanessa froze, then glanced at me. A flicker of guilt crossed her eyes. “Next time, for your birthday or our anniversary, I’ll plan something just as big for you,” she said hesitantly. I shook my head lightly. “Don’t bother.” If it’s the same thing you’ve already done for someone else, how could it even count as a surprise? I wasn’t about to accept someone else’s leftovers. Vanessa pressed her lips together, as if she wanted to say more. Before she could, Griffin chimed in. “Logan, you’re not seriously upset, are you? Vanessa was just going along with the publicity plan. Don’t be so petty.” “As her boyfriend, you should be more understanding. Don’t make her guess what’s on your mind all the time. That’s exhausting for her.” Classic Griffin, always stepping up to defend Vanessa. I let out a soft laugh. “With you looking out for her, why would she ever need anyone else?” The words carried a sharp edge, freezing the room in an instant. Griffin sighed dramatically, offering a resigned smile. “Alright, fine. If it makes you feel better, I’ll apologize. Don’t be mad at Vanessa.” The air hung heavy with awkwardness until someone broke in to lighten the mood. “Come on, we’re all teammates—no need for these formalities. Let’s drink!” Scarlett, grinning mischievously, stepped into the center. “Today’s not the only story. Vanessa gave Griffin flowers yesterday too!” She giggled and glanced at me, looking for confirmation. Vanessa seemed to think Scarlett had pinpointed the issue. She turned to me. “You’re upset over something that trivial?” Casually, she added, “I bought you flowers yesterday too, but you left early, so I couldn’t give them to you. I still have them, though.” She walked to a corner of the suite, pulling out a small, wilted bouquet of lisianthus from a box filled with beer bottles. The second she produced it, someone stifled a laugh. It was painfully clear why—the lisianthus bouquet looked embarrassingly cheap next to the extravagant roses she’d given Griffin. Griffin had even brought the roses along, making the comparison all the more glaring. I could feel the mocking stares around me, silently ridiculing the idea that I could ever compare to Griffin. Griffin raised his eyebrows smugly, a triumphant smirk plastered on his face. Feigning disapproval, he glanced at the lisianthus and said, “Vanessa, you should’ve given Logan roses. Why this?” The tone barely stopped short of outright saying she was tossing me scraps. Vanessa replied indifferently, “It was late after the dinner last night. There weren’t any roses left. This will do. Anyway, he doesn’t know flowers—he shouldn’t care.” The best for Griffin, and whatever’s left for me. The difference between love and indifference couldn’t be clearer. Why did she assume I wouldn’t care? She held the flowers out to me, but I didn’t reach for them. Vanessa’s brows furrowed again. “Don’t you like flowers anymore? I picked these especially for you.” “No thanks,” I said flatly. “Give them to someone else.” “You’re being ridiculous again,” she shot back. “I’m not. I mean it. I have things to do, so I’ll leave you all to it.” I opened the suite door and walked out without looking back. I hadn’t taken more than a few steps before the whispers started behind me. “Logan’s being so dramatic.” “Griffin and Vanessa’s video is blowing up online. It’s brought in tons of sponsors for the studio—why is he so hung up on this?” “Exactly.” Vanessa, finally losing her patience, tossed the flowers aside. “Forget him. Let him sulk.” Every harsh word cut into me like a blade. I paused mid-step, a wave of sadness washing over me. To her, I was utterly insignificant.
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