Chapter 1
My name was Emily Lane, and I was a sophomore majoring in Literature. I was about five feet two, and I never told anyone my weight.
When it came to my looks, I was perfectly average, the kind of face no one would ever pick out of a crowd.
But I had a secret weapon, and that was my voice.
I had spent two years in the dubbing club, learning how to sound like a little girl, a grown woman, or anything in between.
My best trick was my sweet, cute voice. Guys online could never tell whether I was faking it or if my voice was really that pretty. The moment they heard it, they fell for it every time.
People in the club called me the Enchantress and said I was born to be a voice actress.
But my father didn't agree.
Every time I brought up getting a voice acting certificate, he would slam his fork down and say, "Can you make a living doing that? Study hard, come back home, and find a stable job."
I hated the word "stable" more than anything.
*****
Three months earlier, I matched with a user named Night Voyager on a voice chat app.
His voice was deep and warm with a lazy edge to it, kind of like a cello's low notes.
The first time we talked, he listened to me perform a scene from a radio drama and then stayed quiet for a long time. Finally, he said, "That was good, but I like your normal voice better."
My heart stopped for a second.
This guy was different.
When other guys heard me use that cute voice, they would either send me gifts or call me baby in the most cringey way.
But he simply wanted to talk about books late at night. We talked about Borges, about the lines in War and Peace, and about the apple tree in his family's yard back in his hometown.
He told me he was a junior engineering student at a good university. His life was only about class and the lab, and he said it was incredibly boring.
I told him I was also an engineering student and that coding all day was making my hair fall out.
We sent each other photos, and of course, they were fake.
I sent a picture of a minor internet celebrity I found online, a girl who looked innocent and cute with little dimples.
He sent a side profile of himself wearing a mask. He had nice eyebrows and a handsome look, and the photo was taken in a library, with a dreamy feel to it.
He said, "When we meet up, I will buy you a coffee."
"Sure," I said, trying to keep my heartbeat under control. "I'll take a latte with an extra shot of vanilla."
But I never planned on meeting him. I wanted a relationship that stayed in the dark, with no meeting in person and no real life at all. We would connect through our voices.
When we graduated and went our separate ways, we would end it and no one would get hurt.
It was the perfect setup.
I made a few rules for myself. No video calls, no meeting up, no real personal information, and no real feelings. We would be sweet to each other online and live our own lives offline. It was a safe and simple cyber relationship.
But I never expected my first rule to get broken so soon.
*****
It happened when I least expected it.
That afternoon, I was hauling a stack of Literature homework notebooks to the faculty office when I ran into someone around the stairwell corner.
The books went flying, pages fluttering across the floor.
"Sorry!" I blurted, bending down to scoop them up. When I looked up, I saw a pair of familiar eyes.
Thick dark brows framed his sharp, upturned eyes, and a faint scar cut across his left brow. He was dressed in a black hoodie with a silver earring, an unlit cigarette resting between his lips.
Every part of him felt distant and threatening, like a leopard that looked relaxed but could strike at any time.
It was Jack Rivers.
He was a legend in the computer science department and the most feared presence on campus.
People said he'd put an upperclassman in the hospital during his freshman year for provoking him. His family was wealthy and well-connected, so he'd never faced any real punishment.
Rumors followed him everywhere, like he went through girlfriends quickly, had powerful backing in the lab, and had connections off campus. No one knew how much was true, but everyone knew better than to cross him.
He crouched down to help me gather the notebooks. His fingers were long and well-defined, and I saw a heavy callus on the side of his right hand.
It could have come from years of using a mouse, or from something far more violent.
"Th-thank you," I stammered, my voice barely a whisper.
Without saying anything, he neatly stacked the notebooks and handed them to me before turning to leave.
I stood frozen in place. It wasn't his looks that left me dazed. It was the shape of his face, the curve of his eyes, and his voice that all felt hauntingly familiar.
My hands shook as I took out my phone and opened the chat with Night Voyager. I sent a quick voice message.
Three seconds later, Jack's phone rang at the end of the hallway.
He pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. A soft smile crept across his face without him realizing it as he typed. The warmth in his expression didn't match the cold, distant rebel I'd run into just now.
The next second, my phone buzzed.
Night Voyager: [Just ran into a girl. Total clumsy.]
I didn't know how to reply.
Night Voyager: [But honestly, she was pretty cute.]
My head spun, and I thought I might faint right there.
I couldn't believe my online boyfriend was Jack.
Jack? The notorious campus rebel who was said to knock down anyone who provoked him, the same guy who'd lost his temper at someone cutting in line and dumped his tray all over them, and the guy rumored to have dated so many girls?