March 27, 2025
The venue was on the brink of structural collapse—not because of poor construction, but because thousands of fans were screaming like their lives depended on it.
What was supposed to be a calm interview had fully mutated into a fan meet‑and‑greet, a concert, and possibly an occult gathering.
Rachel held up the camera, zooming in on me as I waved a glowing light stick like a possessed traffic officer.
"Careful," she hissed. "You still have an IV needle taped to your hand!"
I waved harder. "Relax. They drew five tubes of blood from me this morning. If you stab me right now, I'd just leak disappointment."
I glanced down at my outfit proudly. "Also, look. I'm wearing actual clothes. Do you know how long it's been since I wore anything that wasn't hospital white? Red is his fandom color—bold, passionate, very 'alive.' Don't I look healthier?"
Rachel sniffed. "You look like a walking Christmas ornament that escaped December."
"Hmph. Zero fashion sense."
Then—
Evan stepped onto the stage.
The screams escalated into something feral.
This wasn't just an interview. Tonight, he was officially announcing Mystique Waterfalls' new game, the one everyone had been whispering about online for weeks.
When the cheers finally died down, his voice flowed through the speakers.
He wasn't talking.
He was singing.
"Around the corner, our first encounter—that's when I learned how beautiful the world could be…"
My fingers tightened around the light stick.
"…It's not just your smile I love.It's you."
I snapped back to my influencer persona instantly, turning to the camera with wild enthusiasm."WOW. Just those two lines and I'm emotionally compromised. The immersion! The angst! As expected of him!"
Around us, fans were buzzing.
"It's written so well! The LenEva couple is destiny!"
"Ever notice how his company took off right after he dumped that Maya girl? She's cursed, I swear. Probably jinxed herself to death already."
"What did you say?" Rachel spun around, fury detonating.
I was closer. I heard every word.
I reached for her arm—but she was already marching forward like a battle tank.
"Any proof?" she snapped. "Or do you people just inhale gossip for breakfast?"
"How are you related to Maya?" someone sneered. "Why are you defending that bitch?"
Rachel lost it.
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A—"
I lunged forward, wrapping my arms around her from behind like a panicked octopus. I plastered on the most pleasant smile I could manage.
"I'm so sorry," I chirped sweetly. "Misunderstanding. That Maya is a bitch. Total jinx. Absolute menace to society."
Rachel's body went rigid in my arms.
The fans smirked, satisfied."At least you've got a brain. Mr. Cross is clearly in love with Lena. Even his games are love letters. That Maya should stay far, far away."
And then—
The screams doubled.
I followed their gaze to the giant screen.
There she was.
Lena Hart.
Draped in couture like she'd been born under a spotlight. Sitting in the VIP section, smiling as if the universe had personally tailored itself for her.
"Lena! It's Lena!"
Evan looked up, his face softening as he spoke to her from the stage. Casual. Familiar. Intimate.
The crowd lost its mind.
"GET MARRIED RIGHT NOW!"
"I WANT THEIR WEDDING TO BE LIVESTREAMED TOMORROW!"
The camera panned.
And suddenly—
I was on the big screen.
Neither Rachel nor I noticed at first.
Rachel turned to me, alarm in her eyes. "Maya…"
I smiled automatically. "It's fine. They're a good match, right? I mean—look at them. I'm starting to ship them together."
"Maya," she said softly, "you never have to pretend with me."
I looked down.
When I raised my head again, my eyes were burning.
I faced the camera lens and smiled—a real one this time.
"I'm dying anyway," I said lightly. "Whether there's love or not doesn't really matter."
The venue fell into a sudden, unnatural hush.
Confused, I turned.
And saw my own face filling the screen.
Oh.
Oh no.
I grabbed Rachel's hand. "RUN."
We shoved through the crowd, apologizing, ducking, escaping like criminals fleeing a very glamorous crime scene.
But it was too late.
Evan saw me.
From the stage.
His smile froze.
Just for a fraction of a second—but I saw it.
The host spoke to him, oblivious, continuing the program.
Evan answered mechanically, eyes already searching.
When he looked back—
I was already gone.
Like I had always been.
Like I was meant to be.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
I ran until my legs felt like lead, until the chaos of the venue was nothing more than distant screams behind me. Only then did I dare to stop, gasping for air. My chest ached, my throat burned, and my tears felt like they'd never end.
Rachel didn't miss a beat, keeping the phone steady. "Is Evan a ghost? Both times you've seen him, you've bolted like that."
I shook my head, my voice trembling despite my attempt at control. "If I didn't run… I would have been spotted. Mobbed by fans is one thing, but ruining the launch of his game… after everything he's worked for… I couldn't."
My words were barely out of my mouth when a voice, cold and sharp as winter wind, sliced through the air.
"Maya. I knew it was you."
My blood ran cold. My body stiffened, but it was too late to escape. He moved faster than my racing heart could keep up, spinning me around until I faced him.
Evan's eyes studied me. My haggard face, my thin frame, my exhaustion—all of it reflected back in his frown. It hurt more than any blow ever could.
Rachel instinctively stepped back, holding the camera on us.
His gaze sharpened. "Hah… karma," he said, and the words cut like ice. "Look at you. Pathetic, worn down… and for what?"
He reached out, gripping my chin with that same precision I'd once mistaken for tenderness. "The man you abandoned seven years of your life for… look at you now. Has life been kind to you?"
Then he shoved me away, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his hand as if the mere touch of me was a stain.
"I'll be on major shows from now on. You want to see me? You can do it openly."
He glanced at me, voice cold, sharp. "But to me… you're no different from a stray dog or cat on the street."
A stray dog or cat.
Something inside me twisted, a dull, unbearable ache that felt like it was crushing my chest from the inside out. I wanted to scream. I wanted to crumble. I wanted—so many things I couldn't allow myself.
So I swallowed it all and nodded faintly, a hollow sound escaping my lips.
Rachel, however, couldn't bear it. She moved closer, her camera trained on him. "Really? She… really means nothing?"
Evan's eyes flicked toward her, unwavering. "Of course."
Then his gaze returned to me. "Actually… I should thank you, Maya."
I froze. The world tilted. My pulse stopped in disbelief.
"For leaving me," he continued softly, almost like a confession, "I never would have realized how truly… disgusting you could be. And I never would have met the love of my life, Lena."
He smiled, calm, almost casual. But it felt like a knife. "Thank you for abandoning me," he said.
My throat closed. I opened my mouth, ready to protest, but Rachel's voice beat me to it. "That's not—"
I clamped my hand over her mouth, fierce.
No. Not here. Not now.
I swallowed my own breaking heart and forced the words out, "I understand. I wish you and Ms. Hart… a long and happy life together."
Rachel struggled, muffled noises against my hand, but I dragged her along, stepping over the pain in my chest and under Sebastian's watchful, unreadable eyes.
We hadn't gone far when Lena's voice drifted behind us, soft, curious.
"Evan… was that Maya?"
He answered without hesitation, his voice ice again. "No. Just a stranger."