We’d been in an online relationship for three goddamn years. I stood by him through every low, every mess, every shitty night.
And the moment we met in real life? He flipped. Just like that.
Turns out the guy who whispered sweet nothings into my headset for three damn years… was the same asshole who helped bully me on campus.
Later—
Aiden Carter made sure to repay every single thing he ever did to me. Word for word, bruise for bruise.
He begged. Begged me to forgive him. Begged me to come back.
But life doesn’t work like that. You don’t get redemption from a tab you ran up with bruises and lies. Not that easy.
Aiden had me cornered in the hallway when I was texting the pinned contact at the top of my messages: “Aiden ❤️.”
Sunlight poured through the broken windows of the old classroom. He stood right in the path of the light—
Like the last damn shard of hope before everything fell apart.
Hey babe, something came up. I’ll game with you tonight, okay?
As soon as I hit send, his phone buzzed. His expression instantly softened, turning that stupidly handsome face into something damn near gentle.
He leaned toward the mic and murmured, low and sweet:
No worries, baby. I’ve got some things going on too. Hit me up when you’re done, alright?
I clenched my fist. My eyes dropped to the message lighting up my own screen—another voice memo from “Aiden ❤️.”
“Yo, Aiden?”
A girl beside him called out, her voice sugar-sweet and sharp as glass.
He ignored her. Just kept tapping away on his phone.
And then I got another message. I didn’t respond.
The air in the room froze.
Madison Blake opened her mouth again, clearly ready to push it further—
But Aiden finally turned toward her, voice ice-cold:
“What the hell do you want?”
She blinked, startled. The whole damn room was suddenly watching her.
But my eyes? They stayed locked on him.
That golden light framed only half his face, the rest swallowed in shadow. Still, he looked… perfect. Stupidly perfect. Like the guy I used to game with all night and tell my secrets to.
Half of him was “my Aiden.”
The other half?
The same Aiden Carter who laughed while they beat the shit outta me.
My grip loosened.
And just like that—
Madison’s voice shattered the silence like a whipcrack:
“Hit her.”
That smug venom in her voice wrapped around me like ice-cold wire.
“Make sure the bitch knows Madison Blake doesn’t get walked on.”
The punches landed fast. Hard.
Every hit bloomed with pain—chest, ribs, arms, back. Over and over again.
Threats. Slurs. Laughter. Her goddamn laughter.
It echoed in my head as I curled into myself, shoved my face into my arms.
By the time I opened my eyes again, he was gone. The hallway corner? Empty.
Madison Blake had always been a bitch.
Everyone knew it. And I was stupid enough to cross her.
She had a thug boyfriend and thought that made her the Queen of Campus.
It was a regular Wednesday. I was starving—hadn’t eaten all morning. When I finally made it to the cafeteria line, guess who showed up?
Yep. Madison and her little plastic-doll girl gang, cutting the damn line like they owned the place.
Normally, I might’ve just rolled my eyes. But not that day. I was dizzy and pissed off.
So yeah—I shoved her.
And I forgot just how strong I actually am.
She went down. Hard. Right on her ass.
It was loud enough that the whole damn lunchroom turned into a live taping of “Holy Shit, Did You See That?”
Her face? Bright red. Like she might explode. Like a balloon full of rage.
I was about to apologize—
And then the lunch lady barked at me:
“Sweetie, what do you want? People are waiting!”
I blinked. Forgot all about Madison on the floor.
Rattled off my food order like nothing happened.
By the time I grabbed my tray and turned around—
She was gone.
Good.
I figured we were even.
Turns out? Not even close.
Guess she didn’t think we were square.
Instead, she sicced her boyfriend’s goons on me.
Correction—she got my own goddamn boyfriend to round up his buddies and jump me.
That’s right.
Aiden Carter. The guy who told me I was his world?
Helped beat the shit out of me.
I limped back to the dorm reeking like sewer sludge and looking like hell.
My roommate cringed, pinching her nose.
“Jesus, Riley. What the hell happened to you?”
“I tripped. On the way back.”
“Oh.” She relaxed. “You need a shower. Like—immediately.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, peeling off my soaked jacket.
My phone buzzed again.
What’s my girl up to?
You done yet?
Why aren’t you answering me 🥺
Riley?
Waiting like a good boy 😇
I locked the screen without replying.
Walked straight into the shower. Still smelling like betrayal.
Aiden and I had been in a long-distance online thing for three fucking years.
Not once had we met in person.
At first, he called me “Riley Brooks.”
Then it became just “Riley.”
And once he confessed? “Baby girl.”
Three years.
Three years of texts, voice chats, 3AM sobfests.
His grandpa passed during our second year.
He was wrecked—calling me five times a day, voice cracking from crying or whispering into silence.
He told me about his childhood like I was the only one left who gave a shit.
The house he grew up in.
The smell of his grandpa’s workshop.
The last hug he barely remembered.
And me?
I cried with him. Whispered dumb little comfort lines while googling:
“how to help someone grieve over the phone.”
Sometimes he’d call in the middle of the night.
3AM. Pitch-black. My screen lighting up with his name.
I’d roll out of bed, sit up in the dark, and let his pain pour into me.
Time passed. He got better.
But he always said the same thing:
“Baby girl, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
The day he said that, my bestie Harper was sitting next to me.
She peeked over and scoffed.
“Didn’t know you had time to play therapist to some sad stranger across the internet.”
I didn’t even look up. Just stared at his message and muttered,
“It’s kinda wild, right?
The internet’s crazy powerful.”
His profile picture was a kitten with a crooked grin.
Something about it made me smile, even through my own bullshit.
“You can fall for someone you’ve never seen.
You can be their whole-ass lifeline just through a screen.”
I typed out a message:
I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.
Then I looked over at Harper and grinned.
“Guess that’s what makes love so… f***ing weird and beautiful, huh?”
The water shut off, and I stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.
My roommate pointed at my phone.
“Aiden called a bunch of times. I told him you were in the shower.”
“Thanks,” I said, my voice flat.
She glanced down at my arm and gasped.
“Holy shit, Riley—what the hell happened to you?”
“I tripped,” I lied smoothly.
“I’ve got some bruise ointment. Come here, I’ll rub it in.”
The pain flared when she touched the spot, but I didn’t make a sound. Just bit down on my lip.
The bathroom filled with the sharp sting of menthol.
I picked up my phone and replied:
Just got out of the shower.
Instantly, his response popped up:
(kissy face.gif)
You up for some gaming tonight, baby girl?
I paused.
Not tonight.
Something happened.
What happened?
I hesitated, then typed:
Some asshole cut in line today. I shoved him. He said he’d get someone to “deal with me.”
The typing dots popped up. Then disappeared.
Then came the voice memos.
I didn’t play them.
I just sent:
It’s fine. No one came after me.
He cuts in line and then thinks he’s the victim? he replied.
More voice memos dropped in. One after another.
Some short. Some long. All with little red dots.
I didn’t care.
I only reread that single line: He cuts in line and then thinks he’s the victim?
Couldn’t help it. I laughed. Out loud.
“What’s funny?” my roommate asked.
Wiping tears from the corners of my eyes, I smirked.
“Just saw a meme. Dumb as hell, but it cracked me up.”
We talked every single day.
Not one missed night.
Aiden had sent me tons of pictures—
Golden sunsets melting into blue skies, tiny wildflowers by a park bench, an empty skate park at dawn…
And then there was that one.
Him.
In a crisp white shirt, standing in what he said was his backyard garden.
Grinning at the camera, breeze tugging at his collar, posture perfect. Like something out of a Ralph Lauren ad.
I took this one just for you, baby girl, he’d said.
Maybe one day, you’ll spot me in a crowd.
I laughed back then.
Told him stuff like that only happens in Hallmark movies.
Turns out, life’s got a fucked-up sense of irony.
Because there he was.
Lit under a streetlamp. Half his face glowing, the other hidden in shadow.
Those same perfect features. Same goddamn smile.
Except now?
He looked like a stranger wearing my fantasy’s face.
Aiden had once asked what kind of guy I liked.
I shot back: What kind of guy are you?
He replied:
Whatever kind you want me to be.
I said I liked the ones who looked like sunlight felt. Soft, warm, golden boys with open eyes and quiet hearts.
In my head, he was that boy.
He didn’t say anything for a long while. Then sent a smiley face.
That was it.
The chat kept buzzing.
Voice memos. Typing dots. Green dots turning red. More unread messages.
I stared at my phone for a full minute before I typed:
Aiden…
Do you wanna meet?
Next day at the cafeteria, I saw her again.
Madison Blake.
Same smug face. Same stupid strut. Same bullshit.
She cut into another line—right in front of some scrawny guy. He swallowed his pride and said nothing.
Madison cackled with her crew, throwing smug glances around like confetti.
Then she locked eyes with me.
Something shifted in her face. That bitchy smirk sharpened.
She ditched her spot and shoved herself right into my line—between me and the guy in front of me.
Her elbow jammed into my chest so hard I almost toppled into someone behind me.
I caught myself just in time.
The guy in front turned, looked me over like I was pitiful.
Like I’d just rolled over for a second time.
Madison’s lips curled higher.
I could see it in her eyes—she thought she’d won.
Then she leaned close. Whispered like a snake hissing in my ear:
“You filthy. Fucking. Bitch.”
Every word dripped with venom.
My jaw clenched. Blood filled my mouth from how hard I was biting the inside of my cheek.
But I didn’t move.
Didn’t say a word.
Just let the taste of blood sit there while I burned.
Chapter 10
My chat window with Aiden ❤️ was still open from last night. The last thing he sent was a kissy emoji.
For real, baby girl?
We’re finally gonna meet?
I’ve been dying to see you. Been dreaming about it.
It’s been almost three years.
Once I pick a date, I’ll let you know.
Hell yes!
I’m so damn excited. I can’t believe I’ll finally see you.
What if you meet me and don’t like what you see?
Not possible.
Doesn’t matter what you look like, you’re still my baby.
(kiss.gif)
That’s where the convo ended.
I sat in the cafeteria, food untouched, scrolling up and down through that thread like I could find something hidden in the pixels.
But it was just words. Sweet. Empty. Hopeful. Dangerous.
Before Aiden, I was the weird kid no one sat with.
Always the outsider, always the one people side-eyed like I had a disease.
I didn’t do anything wrong—I was just there.
And that was apparently enough.
Harper was the only one who ever stuck by me.
My only real friend.
And I never learned how to back down.
Madison thought she’d won.
Thought she’d scared me quiet.
And Aiden?
He ghosted after that night like nothing happened. No texts. No calls. Not even a damn emoji.
Everything felt… still.
Too still.
But under that calm surface, I was boiling.
And I wasn’t the type to let shit go.
Monday evening. Elective class.
The professor was a notorious hard-ass. Straight-up savage with the grading curve and stingy as hell with participation points. If you picked this course, either you were unlucky or a masochist.
The second the bell rang, this sharp-eyed, no-bullshit middle-aged woman walked in with the attendance sheet.
I sat down and shot a message to Aiden.
Baby, when exactly are we meeting?
I can’t wait anymore. I wanna see you like… now.
I added a GIF. Something cutesy.
Right as I hit send, she called my name.
“Riley Brooks.”
“Here.” I raised my hand.
She barely looked at me before checking my name off the list.
Then the next names rolled out—until she called one that hit me like a slap:
“Madison Blake.”
I turned.
And froze.
It wasn’t her.
The girl who raised her hand didn’t match the face I knew all too well.
She answered softly, all innocent and fake, and the teacher nodded.
But my gut screamed bullshit.
My heart picked up pace.
Adrenaline kicked in.
“Professor!” I said, too loud.
Everyone turned.
The woman’s gaze snapped to me like a laser.
I stood slowly, a polite smile on my face. And then I dropped the bomb.
“She’s not Madison Blake.”
The imposter’s face twitched.
“Probably just filling in. No big deal, right?”
Silence.
Complete, thick silence.
But I knew better.
This professor? She cared.
And if Madison thought she could cheat her way through this class?
That bitch just started a war.
Most professors would’ve let that shit slide.
Not this one.
She’d follow up. Ask questions. Email admin. Madison was screwed.
Later that night, Aiden called me.
His voice was low, deep, and soaked in syrup.
“How was your day, baby girl?”
Every time he called me that, it felt like a secret being whispered against my skin. I blushed. I always blushed.
“It was… good,” I said, grinning like an idiot.
He chuckled, warmth threading through his words.
“Something good happen?”
I hesitated. “Just thinking about us meeting soon. It makes me stupidly happy.”
“Same here. Can’t stop thinking about it.”
We talked for two hours. About everything and nothing.
And right before I drifted off, his voice softened.
“How much longer till I see you?”
I murmured, half-asleep:
“Soon.”
Two days after I exposed Madison’s little stunt, she struck back.
Classic. Pathetic.
She tried cornering me in the stairwell. I ran. She couldn’t catch me.
After that, I made sure to wear a hoodie and mask whenever I left class. Scanned every hallway. Always one step ahead.
She fumed in the background like a volcano waiting to blow.
But life’s a bitch.
On Day Five, karma caught up.
We ran into each other in the cafeteria.
I’d just grabbed a tray of hot food—chicken tenders, mashed potatoes, the works—and spotted an open seat.
I was smiling like a dumbass, walking toward it, when—
SPLASH.
Boiling-hot soup poured over my fucking head.
It ran down my face, into my hoodie, soaked through my shirt and into my bra.
Some even splattered right into my tray.
I stood there. Frozen.
Burning.
Sticky.
Humiliated.
The soup dripped down my neck like a goddamn parasite.
It stung. Bad.
But all I could focus on was the ruined food.
I loved those mashed potatoes.
The place went dead quiet.
And of course, it was her.
Madison Fucking Blake.
I looked up, drenched and shaking, right into her smug-ass face.
Again—me and her.
Center of attention.
Again.
Thank God for the mask.
It hid my face. Hid the tears. Hid everything except the rage.
I felt the heat of stares crawling over me, itchy and humiliating.
Then I saw him.
Sitting across the room, back straight, eyes empty.
Not Aiden.
No.
The other guy.
Madison’s piece-of-shit boyfriend.
She brought backup.
“You dirty little bitch!”
Madison stormed toward me, red lipstick twisted in fury, spit flying as she screamed.
“You tried to fuck me over? Huh? You think you can embarrass me?”
She was inches from my face now, flinging insults like knives—vile, ugly things meant to humiliate, to rip me open in front of everyone.
I stood there. Swallowed the taste of metal rising in my throat.
My dignity? Already on the floor, mixed with soup and mashed potatoes.
And Aiden?
He just sat there.
Watching.
Like he didn’t know me.
Like he hadn’t called me “baby girl” last night.
It was funny, in a way.
So funny I smiled under the mask.
That kind of smile that hides shame and rage and heartbreak.
Madison wasn’t done.
She lunged at me, trying to rip off my mask—my last bit of cover.
I dropped my tray, slapped her hand away, backed up fast.
“Still playing hard to get?” she spat.
“I’ll rip your fucking face off!”
No.
Not the mask.
That was the line.
I clutched it like a shield, like armor.
Everyone kept watching.
Too scared of Madison’s thug boyfriend. Too scared of Aiden Carter sitting like a cold prince doing nothing.
She reached again, screaming. And this time?
A hand shot out of the crowd—
And grabbed her wrist.
Hard.
Of course it wasn’t Aiden.
When I didn’t feel the slap land on my face, I opened my eyes—
And saw a girl in a red dress standing in front of me.
She had Madison’s wrist in a death grip, her heel planted, and—
Smack.
The sound echoed off the walls like a gunshot.
Everyone around us sucked in a breath.
Madison’s head snapped sideways. Her face lit up red, not from rage this time—pure humiliation.
Aiden finally turned his head.
He glanced at me like I was gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe, then shifted his gaze to the one who’d just knocked the hell out of Madison.
Madison’s boyfriend started to stand, but Aiden shoved him back down with one hand. Didn’t even look at him.
Madison stood frozen, hand on her cheek, rage swirling in her eyes—
But she didn’t move again.
The girl in front of me turned her head just slightly, a curtain of dark curls sliding over her shoulder.
Crimson lips. Eyes like winter.
I swallowed.
Whispered, “Harper…”
Harper Hayes.
The girl every dude at North Campus drooled over.
Also the same girl who used to sit beside me on the swings in elementary school while we hid from the world.
Our campus was split into North and South.
Harper was from the other side. No clue what brought her over today, but she didn’t say a word.
She just grabbed my hand and marched me all the way back to my dorm.
My roommate was gone, thank God. Harper shoved me into the bathroom like she owned the place.
The soup was already drying on my clothes, sticky and gross. With the afternoon heat, the smell had turned even worse.
I turned on the shower, let it burn all the filth away.
When I stepped out, Harper was sitting on my desk chair, legs crossed, one eyebrow raised. Her curls spilled over her shoulder, lipstick still flawless.
“Your boyfriend texted,” she said flatly, pointing at my phone.
“Aiden Carter, right?”
I nodded.
They were both from North Campus.
It wouldn’t surprise me if they knew each other.
She rubbed her temple like she had a headache coming on.
“He was there today, wasn’t he?”
“What the hell’s going on? I thought he was your boyfriend.”
I didn’t answer.
Just stared at the floor, dripping wet, arms hanging limp at my sides.
Water dripped off my hair and splattered against the floor.
She looked at me. Really looked.
Then I said it.
Soft, but sharp.
“Not for long.”
She didn’t flinch.
Didn’t blink.
Just stared at me for a long moment.
Then she stood. Walked over. Gripped my jaw with two fingers and tilted my face up.
“Next time shit goes down, you call me. Got it?”
Harper stayed with me through dinner before heading back to North Campus.
I walked her to the gates at South, waved her off, then headed back alone.
No bike. No Uber. Just walking.
It was one of those rare moments where everything felt… okay.
Crisp air. Crickets buzzing. Streetlights flickering. Wind rustling through the trees.
I was even kinda looking forward to gaming with Aiden later.
Then I heard it.
Footsteps.
Soft. Steady. Right behind me.
I picked up my pace.
So did they.
I whipped around.
No one.
No shadows. No movement.
Just empty sidewalk.
Maybe I was being paranoid.
I turned and walked faster.
Reached for my phone to call my roommate—
Then pain exploded in my hand.
CRACK.
My phone hit the ground, bounced once, then—
Crunch.
A black stiletto heel stabbed straight through it.
Twisted. Crushed.
I froze.
My heart cracked with the glass. That phone—
I’d bought it with my own money.
Held onto it for years.
The battery sucked, screen lagged, but I’d fixed it twice because…
Because it held everything.
Three years of voice messages, midnight calls, crying confessions, stupid songs he sang when I couldn’t sleep.
Photos. Notes. Memories.
Aiden’s world and mine, jammed into one tiny device.
Gone.
I looked up.
And there she was.
Madison Blake.
One cheek still swollen, barely hidden under badly blended makeup. She looked like a botched wax figure.
I didn’t say anything.
Just stared at my phone beneath her heel.
“Stupid little bitch,” she sneered.
Her heels clicked as she stepped closer.
“Where’s your little guard dog now, huh? Harper ain’t here to protect you tonight.”
Her voice scratched at my ears like broken glass.
Every word aimed to cut.
“You like playing the victim? How about I give you something real to cry about.”
She snapped her fingers.
Two girls grabbed my arms. Yanked me into the woods.
I struggled, but they were strong.
My shoes scraped across the gravel, sharp stones digging into my ankles.
My heel got sliced open. I hissed, but they didn’t stop.
They dragged me deep enough that the campus lights faded.
Then dropped me like trash.
I sat up. Slowly. Back straight. Jaw tight.
Madison stood with arms crossed.
The moonlight hit her face just right, making her red lipstick look like blood smeared across porcelain.
“Still think you’re untouchable, huh?”
She moved in fast, heel raised, aiming for my stomach.
I rolled away just in time.
“Hold her up,” she barked.
They grabbed me again. Yanking me upright like I was some cheap rag doll.
She laughed.
Her mouth was too wide. Lipstick crooked.
Like a cursed doll painted by a drunk.
“You think this is over?”
“You’re gonna learn, Riley.”
“You don’t fuck with me.”
Then she reared back—
Heel pointed—
And kicked. Hard.
I saw it coming.
Couldn’t stop it.
I just braced for the pain.
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