Chapter 2

Becca and I weren't what you'd call fake friends.

At least not from where I stood.

We were neighbors. Grew up together.

We both got out of our dead-end small town together.

Came to the city for college together.

I thought we were each other's most trustworthy person in this world.

I never imagined she'd talk about me like that behind my back.

All those memories of us living side by side felt so vivid, but these screenshots had turned everything unrecognizable.

Fighting back my emotions, I typed. "Who else did she send them to?"

"All my buddies, man. We paid her good money. She didn't split it with you? Are you two running this scam together or what?"

This was disgusting.

I'd always thought Becca was genuinely popular. From the day we started college, she'd been cycling through boyfriends.

I didn't agree with her approach to relationships, but sometimes I felt insecure watching her get all that attention.

This time with Tyler, she'd even made a big deal of taking me out to dinner. She told me repeatedly how much she liked him, how she wanted to be serious with him.

I'd been happy for her, thinking she'd found someone she truly cared about.

I never expected the truth to be this ugly and raw.

Maybe seeing I was taking a while to respond, Tyler sent another long message.

"To be honest, I've always been obsessed with girls like you. If Becca hadn't slid into my DMs first, I'd have never looked twice at her."

"What do you say? We've run into each other a few times now. What do you think of me?"

"Becca told me you're pretty strapped for cash. She must've mentioned my situation, right? I'm doing well financially. Not some broke college kid."

I replied with "Drop dead" and blocked him.

After that, I kept hearing Becca complain about fighting with Tyler.

I didn't engage. Just listened to her vent.

"Do you think Tyler's got problems? He hasn't asked me out in forever. This relationship is so boring."

"He sends cash gifts, but way less than before. Men are so shallow, you know? When they're into you, they'll give you anything. Once they cool off, it's night and day."

While complaining, she kept texting on her phone. She even showed me her screen. "Look, this guy sends me a cash gift for every message, trying to get me to talk to him. Two hundred each. Suddenly dating seems pointless."

I asked, "Did you send him photos?"

She glanced up at me and smiled. "Relax, didn't use your photos. You don't actually think you're irresistible, do you? When guys say you have a nice body, they're just being polite. Don't take it too seriously."

Then she added, like she was comforting me, "Of course, for a regular person, you're pretty good. I booked a boudoir shoot. Let's go together sometime."

Looking at her face, I felt like this person had become a stranger, and it terrified me.

I made an excuse to decline. To my surprise, her expression changed. "Why are you always so busy? You don't even have time for a quick photoshoot?"

I shook my head. "Working part-time. Haven't earned next semester's tuition yet."

She rolled her eyes. "That's why I told you to work at that club, but you wouldn't. Two hundred an hour. If you meet a generous guy, you'd make your tuition back in a week."

Beauty is a weapon. Once you start selling it, it becomes worthless scrap metal. She'd understand that eventually.