Chapter 2

Turns out it was Laylah who snapped a photo of me meeting with my dad, then posted it all over the campus forum with the caption: [Vain gold-digger and her blue-collar dad.]

The comments under that post were absolutely roasting me.

Those who used to accuse me of chasing rich guys were now calling me out and going after me personally.

[So young and already gold-digging… blowing cash on designer brands but can't even get your dad a clean shirt?]

[Aryana, bet your dad has no clue that your outfit costs more than his yearly paycheck.]

[Why not just quit school and hang out with your old man all day? Maybe you can help him retire early and live the good life.]

The hate online made my blood boil. I finally just shut down my phone—better not to see it at all.

But just as I was about to log off, a new comment popped up under the post.

[Disrespecting your parents, always chasing after men. You're so cheap.]

It was from Matthew.

It was like I'd been struck by lightning—my fingers just froze over the screen.

The black words on the screen felt like daggers to my eyes.

[Cheap.]

[So cheap.]

It was like something inside me smashed to pieces—years of bottled-up feelings suddenly boiled over and I couldn't hold them back.

My whole body shook with rage, and my eyes burned with bitter tears I couldn't stop.

For the past four years, I'd basically been Matthew's hopeless simp—going out of my way for him no matter what.

He was obsessed with music, so I got him custom guitars and speakers.

When he got into rap, I bought him tickets to competitions so he could perform with legit artists.

Every time he had a show, I'd pay for the whole class to go and cheer him on.

And yet, the one guy I cherished above all else—after everything I did for him—called me cheap because of some stupid rumors, even though I'd blown up his messages trying to explain it all.

Almost instantly, someone replied under Matthew's comment.

Laylah commented: [Matthew, isn't she basically your loyal puppy? Careful, you might actually break her heart.]

I had no idea those two were suddenly so tight.

Ever since sophomore year, when I stole Laylah's spotlight with a traditional dance at Halloween parties, she'd been undermining me every chance she got—sometimes upfront, sometimes behind my back.

And now, even Matthew was wrapped around her little finger.

Matthew shot back: [She's the one acting desperate, always being a hopeless simp for guys. What does that have to do with me?]

[Seriously, she'll go after any guy—she doesn't even care if they're old.]

Laylah's sneer at the end felt like it was hammering my heart into a hell I could never climb out of.

Maybe being love-obsessed really did send me straight to hell.

I dug my nails into my palm, desperate to keep myself together.

My fingers shook as I struggled with the urge to call Matthew.

But for a split second, I felt something give inside me—as if acceptance finally overpowered the pain.

After four years, what was I even still hanging on for?

Finally, Aryana hit call on her dad's number.

"Dad, I need a lawyer," Aryana said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Not long after, I posted a legal warning on the school forum.

The main rumor-mongers all got slapped with cease-and-desist letters from my lawyer.

But it didn't really change anything—the peanut gallery was still hanging around, waiting to see the next big mess explode.

People never stopped speculating about me, and the snark just kept coming.

[Aryana is seriously fake. Living off some sugar daddy and now she's got a lawyer? She's got zero shame and still wants to shut everyone up.]

[Everyone knows that sugar daddy is leaving his wife for Aryana. Word is, the lawyer's the guy's divorce attorney.]

Laylah milked it for sympathy, telling everyone I was threatening her with a lawyer just because of some personal grudge.

Soon, the whole school was ganging up on me—even people who used to stay out of it were now joining the pile-on.

[Hey, do you guys think Aryana's just salty because she's jealous of Laylah? She's been after Matthew forever, but everyone knows Matthew's into Laylah.]

[One's just a gold-digging side chick for some old guy, the other is a rich beauty, campus goddess. If it were me, I'd totally pick Laylah too!]

With all the gossip flying around, it felt like this whole circus had become Laylah's private show.

Truth didn't matter—nothing could knock her out of the spotlight.

Fuming, I ended up hammering out a late-night post just to clear my name.

[Everything people are saying online is just gossip. I've got nothing going on with Matthew—whatever he does has absolutely nothing to do with me.]

But the next morning, my phone was blowing up like crazy.

Missed calls and messages were flooding in—most from Rayne, and a handful from classmates I barely even talked to.

They all basically said the same thing: "You're trending on the school forum again."

I rushed to check the forum, and I was pissed off.

Turns out Laylah had posted the entire chat history between me and Matthew, with a caption like: [Look at you, groveling for him nonstop—how can you say there's nothing going on?]

The comments underneath were packed with people cracking jokes at my expense, all making fun of me.