Jasper Thorne posted a video of me walking out of the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel, to the group chat. All the rich trust-fund babies who used to chase me were in there. And Jasper was the prettiest of them all. 【That’s Jasper for you. What’s the Ice Queen taste like? Let us have a turn?】 【Jasper sacrificed a lot for this. Seducing the valedictorian just to get revenge for his little stepsis.】 【Cold-hearted man. Telling the genius he has cancer right before Finals. I saw her eyes were red for days.】 【He’s dumping her right after graduation.】 I heard Jasper send a lazy voice memo in response. His voice sounded completely different from the pitiful act he put on in front of me. I had been skipping school frequently to stay with him at the hospital. My grades were free-falling. Jasper lay weakly in the hospital bed, pulling out a forged cancer diagnosis report, his eyes swimming with fake deep affection. "Audrey, I'm sorry. I'm dragging you down. Don't spend any more money on my treatment." He knew that to pay for his "medical bills," I was already penniless. Jasper was waiting for me to give up on him. He never expected me to pull out another $50,000 in life-saving cash. The group chat pinged again: 【That bitch! What does he have besides a pretty face?! Why did Audrey fall for him!】 【Audrey sold her apartment for him! That was her mother’s only inheritance!】 【Shameless piece of trash. Holden, did you tell Audrey the truth yet?】 【WTF! Idiot! Wrong chat! Jasper is in this one! Delete it, quick!】 The messages were frantically deleted one by one. On the hospital bed, Jasper’s face turned ghostly pale. 1 Academics came easily to me. Since childhood, as long as I wanted to, I could be number one in my grade. I also inherited my mother's good looks. Except for being poor, I had almost no flaws. In middle school, my mother married a wealthy businessman. She left me a bank card. "Don't contact me in the future. I will deposit money for you every year." She claimed to be single to the public. She didn't want my existence to affect her second marriage. I felt nothing. I took her card and told everyone I was an orphan. I was born emotionally detached. My mother didn't like me. She preferred daughters who sweetly called her "Mommy," even if they were stepdaughters. Her social media was soon filled with photos of another girl—the businessman's daughter from his previous marriage. Her name was Chloe Zhao. She had bright, flashy looks. My mother would half-hug her, while Chloe pouted, showing a very reluctant fake smile. For the first time, seeing someone else's smile felt blinding to me. Life was bland and boring. My only pleasure was finding people who could stir my emotions. So, I moved. I bought a small, six-hundred-square-foot apartment in the best school district and transferred into Chloe's high school. 2 Just as I felt when I first saw her photo, Chloe hated me on sight. She led her little clique to constantly bully me. I didn't argue with her. I simply bailed on school the week before the critical Statewide Mock Finals. Our school had been ranked second to the crosstown rival for too long. My grades were consistently number one. The administration would never want to see me skip the test. When my homeroom teacher called, I mustered up a timid voice: "Mrs. Davis, can I change classes?" "Change classes?" The teacher quickly picked up on the wrongness in my tone. She softened her voice. "Is someone in class bothering you? Don't be afraid, I’ll handle it for you!" I stammered, "No, no. It's just... I don't get along very well with the class." I hung up the phone and put away the feigned anxiety and cowardice. I knew I had never been a good person. I always return a favor. Two days later, the teacher called me into the school. Schools have cameras. The teacher spent a whole day reviewing footage. After realizing Chloe had been targeting me, both subtly and overtly, for two months, she immediately reported it to the administration. The school took it very seriously. Chloe stood in front of the entire assembly, eyes red, choking back tears as she read her apology. She lost all face at school. From then on, she hated me venomously. "It's all her fault! If she didn't have good grades, the teachers wouldn't protect her like that!" "Fake! Total pick-me!" "Holden! Speak up! Are you going to help me or not!" Outside a corner coffee shop, Chloe was crying and clinging to a guy. The guy whispered comfortingly, "Don't cry. Jasper and I will definitely help you." "Really?" Chloe looked up, her nose bright red from crying. "What do you want me to do?" "Find someone to ruin her reputation, then post the photos in the group chat. I want to see what right that bitch has to be arrogant then!" Chloe’s voice was poisonous. The guy was tall. He pulled her into his arms and smiled with playful cruelty. "A sheltered poor girl is worth my princess crying like this? Wait till I train her. I'll make her crawl on the ground and lick your shoes." 3 My boring life suddenly got a lot more interesting. For example, many people suddenly wanted to be my friend. They were all either rich or noble. "Audrey, that new Michelin star place is great. Let me take you." Holden was in Class 11. He was 6'1" and skilled at flirting. He was one of the people Chloe turned to for help—her cousin. He had good looks, a good family background, and loved fooling around with girls. He made his pursuit of me public. Because he was the only guy I occasionally replied to, rumors spread in class that we were dating. My teacher called us into the office. The teacher from Class 11 was sitting next to her. Holden's teacher was a stern man. He looked coldly at Holden and said, "Focus on your studies. If your own grades are bad, don't influence others. I've already called your parents. Write a 1,000-word reflection by tomorrow." "Also, I talked to your parents yesterday. They don't agree with you studying art. Don't think art is a shortcut. Your art teacher told me your ideas are too chaotic and not suitable for exams." Holden clenched his fists tightly. His teacher was rattling off like a machine gun. It was noisy. When his teacher said one more time that Holden shouldn't affect my studies, I interrupted him. My eyes held no other emotion. "Mr. Evans, he won't have any impact on me. I will get first place." The Class 11 teacher choked on his words. Just as he was about to explode, my teacher blocked him like a protective mother bear. "Alright, alright, you both go out now." 4 After that, Holden pursued me even more fiercely. He sent bags, money, and looked for various boring topics to talk about. If he were chasing my mother, it would have worked. A pity. My mother had numerous suitors in the past. I was tired of seeing these tricks long ago. I looked at Holden wearily and rejected his advances. "Your grades are too low." Holden looked aggrieved. "Audrey, not everyone can learn as easily as you." "But you have talent in painting." Holden's expression changed. The playful look dissipated, and he sat up straight. "Do you really think I have a talent for painting? The teachers all say I draw randomly and don't follow the rules." "Yeah." I responded. "You don't think it's me being a degenerate?" He asked again. Then, he began to complain that his family wouldn't let him touch a paintbrush and wanted to send him abroad. I interrupted him. "Okay, I'm going home." If he were an experienced old player, he would know not to reveal his weaknesses to a woman who didn't love him yet. He would be manipulated. "Audrey, do you want me to teach you how to paint?" Holden's eyes were the best feature on his face—a pair of passionate peach blossom eyes. I liked beautiful things. I looked at him and said with a smile, "Your eyes are very beautiful. Teach me how to draw your eyes." His ears turned bright red, and the hand holding the paintbrush trembled for a second. No matter how much of a player he was, he was only eighteen. Occasionally, he revealed a touch of innocence. I looked at his ears and chuckled lightly. This was the person who said he would make me kneel on the ground and lick shoes? Nothing impressive. I compared his artwork with the horrible thing I just drew and said regretfully, "It seems I don't have talent for painting." Holden laughed. "Audrey, you are really cute." I put down the paintbrush. "The painting got dirty. I don't like dirty things. The same applies to men." Holden's face changed. He looked into my eyes. I was looking at the new painting under his hand. The eyes in the painting were mine. Those eyes were calm, without any love or ripples. He forced a smile and left in a panic. I detected a malicious gaze. Chloe was staring fixedly at the paintbrush that had fallen on the ground. Holden treated his paintbrushes like treasures, but today he left one behind. I picked up the brush and threw it into the trash can. Maybe the person would change later. I hoped it would be more interesting.
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