chapter2

The page loaded, and my heart froze.

Bold letters filled the screen: Prank Live — Episode 97/100.

Two windows appeared side by side. On the left, the feed from my apartment. I saw myself sitting in front of the cake, fairy lights dim behind me, arms folded on the table. The camera angle came from the corner, the red dot blinking. Someone had planted it here.

On the right, Damian at the rooftop. Music boomed, women laughed, champagne spilled down crystal towers. His smile never wavered. Selene clung to him like it was her rightful place.

A live chat scrolled across the bottom.

[She really dressed up for him? In that apartment?]

[Cheap wine, cheap food, cheap girl.]

[Damian knows how to play—almost a hundred pranks and she still believes.]

My stomach turned.

Another line rolled by:

[Remember the time he left her in the mountains? She almost froze but still thanked him after he “rescued” her. Classic.]

I gripped the edge of the table. My own reflection stared back at me from the laptop screen—pale, blank, shaking.

Then the chat exploded again.

[Three more to go! Place your bets: Will she survive to 100 or get dumped first?]

[I bet a million she breaks. No one lasts this long.]

[Damian just has to endure three more. Then the island is his.]

The words made no sense until Selene leaned closer to Damian in the feed. She tapped the camera, her voice clear: “The deal is almost done. One hundred pranks. Then the prize belongs to you.”

Damian did not deny it. He only lifted his glass, eyes glinting with something I had never seen before.

My hands went cold. My mind raced back—

The time I sold my watch to pay for his hospital bills.

The time I swallowed glassy liquor at his business dinner because he said no one else could.

The time I walked home in the rain, thinking love was enough to cover everything.

They were all pranks. Jokes. Bets.

My vision blurred. My pulse hammered in my ears. I pressed my palms hard against the table just to keep from collapsing.

Another notification flashed. Selene again.

Enjoying the show? This is only the beginning. When we reach one hundred, you will see the ending too.

The chat continued to spit venom.

[She thinks she’s the chosen one. She’s just the punchline.]

[Three years of humiliation, and she calls it love.]

[I almost pity her. Almost.]

I wanted to scream, to throw the laptop, to smash every light in this apartment. But I could not move. My body refused.

The feed on the left showed me sitting there, unmoving. The viewers laughed harder.

[Look at her face. She still doesn’t get it.]

[Damian deserves an award for acting. Three years!]

[Someone tell her before she wastes another second.]

The screen blurred again as tears pressed hot against my eyes.

But then—Damian looked straight at the camera. For a second, I swore he hesitated. His smile faltered. His lips parted, as if he might speak.

The chat caught it instantly.

[Is he breaking character?]

[Don’t tell me he’s falling for her for real.]

[If he quits now, he loses everything.]

Selene tugged his sleeve, whispering in his ear. He looked away, smile snapping back into place.

I exhaled, sharp and broken.

The numbers on the top corner blinked: 97/100.

Three left.

And the world wanted to see me destroyed before the final count.