Years after graduation, my high school lab partner became a massive pop star. In a recent interview, he publicly confessed: "Back in high school, there was someone I had a massive crush on." When that interview aired, I was sitting at my high school reunion, staring at my phone. My former classmates immediately started mocking me. "Don't tell me you think he's talking about you?" "She was so nerdy back then. How could it be her? My vote is for the Prom Queen!" Stella Montgomery, our former high school 'it girl,' sat across from me. She blushed and giggled, "Please keep it a secret, guys. I'll get you all his autograph next time." Everyone thought it was her. That was until this summer, when I accidentally ended up moving into his apartment. After a heated argument, he grabbed my wrist, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Chloe Hastings. You are not allowed to hate me." 1 "Chloe, why the sudden move to New York City?" At the reunion, Stella suddenly brought me up. "Rent in the city is insane, and your family didn't exactly have a lot of money..." Over the years, Stella had become a minor influencer and actress. Tonight, she was the center of attention. Compared to me, a lowly intern, she was living the dream. I was just about to say I already found a place to stay, when a cool, magnetic voice echoed from a phone nearby. "Back in high school, there was someone I had a massive crush on..." The girl next to me eagerly grabbed my phone. It was a live stream of Liam Thorne, the nation’s top chart-topping singer. He was looking directly into the camera, a faint, gentle smile playing on his lips. The affection in his eyes practically melted through the screen. The girl next to me started shouting. "I know why Chloe moved to New York!" She spun my phone around to show the rest of the table, laughing. "Remember how there was a rumor that Liam had a crush on you? Don't tell me you actually took it seriously! The second he confesses to having a high school crush, you pack your bags for the city." I waved my hands awkwardly. "I didn't think that at all..." Any secret butterflies I had as a teenager had faded with time. I knew the difference between a normal person and a global superstar. Sarah, one of the few people I actually talked to in high school, tugged my sleeve. "Just drop it. Stella is right here, it’s making things weird." I froze, looking blankly at Stella. My brain short-circuited. Was Liam... dating Stella? Stella’s face instantly flushed red. "Stop making things up... we aren't even official yet." The table erupted in teasing cheers. Amidst the noise, Stella looked at me. "It's okay, Chloe. If you want to see him, I can take you to meet him." "You can ask him yourself if he even remembers you." 2 The reunion dragged on until late. After everyone finally left, I let out a long sigh. I had to meet my new landlord tonight, and I didn't want to be late. On the cab ride over, the high school group chat started blowing up. "Chloe was such a wallflower. Who even started that rumor about Liam liking her?" "Exactly. Stella was gorgeous. My money is on Stella." Suddenly, Stella sent a $100 Apple Cash payment to the group chat. "Next time I'll get you guys those autographs... ?" The chat went wild. I looked at the Apple Cash notification, hesitating. I had been a ghost in this chat for so long, I doubted they even remembered I was in it. If I quietly claim a few bucks, it shouldn't be a big deal, right? I tapped the bubble. My finger hovered over 'Claim.' My eyes sparkled at the free coffee money. At that exact second, a user with a pitch-black profile picture sent a message. "Since when do Stella and I have anything going on?" A classmate immediately replied with a sneer: "Who are you? Why are you acting like you know?" The user replied with two words: "Liam Thorne." Stella quickly jumped in. "I have Liam's actual number. Who is this fake?" The chat started mocking the user. "Probably one of Chloe's simps." "Chloe actually has simps? LMAO." Right at that moment, my finger slipped and hit the button. System notification: Chloe H. has claimed your Apple Cash. The noisy group chat instantly fell dead silent. I backed out of the payment screen and saw the messages. I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. After a few minutes of agonizing silence, I carefully typed: "Sorry, I don't really know who this person is..." Stella didn't reply. I sent another message: "@Stella, I accidentally claimed the largest share of the cash. I'm so sorry, I can Venmo it back..." This time, absolutely no one said a word. The chat was like a graveyard. 3 After a bumpy ride, the cab pulled up to a hyper-exclusive neighborhood in Tribeca. Looking at the understated, luxurious high-rise in front of me, I double-checked with the driver. He promised he was at the right address. I immediately called my mom. "Mom, the place I'm at right now... it looks like a billionaire's row." "Is it the Astor Residences?" "Yes..." "Then you're in the right place. Just remember to be polite and don't cause trouble for the owner." Rent in New York was notoriously brutal. My mom had found this place through an old friend. She said the landlord was a nice guy and was giving us a massive discount. But... moving straight into a luxury penthouse? After the doorman rigorously verified my identity, he let me up. Ten minutes later, dragging my suitcase, I nervously knocked on the door of unit 302. With a soft click. The door opened. A sliver of warm light spilled into the hallway. The moment I looked up and saw that face, my heart stopped beating. How could it be... Liam? Years later, his sharp, handsome features had only grown more striking, almost intimidatingly perfect. Seeing him in person was a thousand times more shocking than seeing him on TV. Blood pounded in my ears. I gripped the handle of my suitcase, panicking as I turned around. "I'm so sorry, I—I have the wrong door..." I prepared to flee. A cool, indifferent voice cut through the dim lighting of the corridor. Crisp and magnetic. "You don't have the wrong door." "Chloe Hastings. Get inside." 4 I never expected to reunite with Liam like this. Back in high school, Liam and I were lab partners. But only for a very short time. Because shortly after we were assigned to sit together, a group of girls cornered me by the lockers. "We saw you give Liam a carton of milk today. If you reach out to him again, we'll beat you to a pulp. Got it?" "Keep your voice down, you'll scare the little good girl." "Don't even look at him, or I'll claw your eyes out." Terrified and harassed daily, I finally dragged my desk to the back of the classroom one afternoon and switched seats on my own. "Chloe." Liam’s voice yanked me back to reality. He was holding a pair of guest slippers in mid-air, looking like he had been waiting for a while. "Do I have to put them on your feet myself?" My face flushed the color of a boiled lobster. "No, thank you..." He looked like he had just stepped out of the shower. His dark hair was still damp. He wore a loose white hoodie, standing lazily by the door. Under the harsh hallway lights, his skin seemed to give off a flawless, soft glow. I kept my eyes glued to the floor and muttered, "Um... I don't think this is a good idea. Once I find a new apartment, I'll move out..." Liam paused, looking at me coldly. "Why? Do you hate me that much?" "Having male and female roommates is just a bit..." "When you signed the lease, you said you didn't mind a co-ed arrangement." It was true. In an expensive city like New York, having roommates of the opposite sex was incredibly common. But... He was a mega-star. Why did he need a roommate? I took a deep breath. "I'm not part of your celebrity world. Being around you... I might not be used to it." The clock in the corner ticked loudly, pointing to 11:00 PM. The living room was dead silent. Liam looked away. "Fine. Break the lease. But I'm keeping the deposit." I hummed in agreement and bent down to change my shoes. Suddenly, my phone slipped out of my pocket. Smack. It hit the floor. My AirPods disconnected. The audio of Liam’s live stream, which I had still been watching, blasted at max volume through the quiet living room. And my 'Top 1% Super Fan' badge, glaring brightly on the screen, was on full display for him to see. My recent comment had been pinned to the top of the chat. It was a thirsty cat emoji. With the caption: "God, if he ever chased me, I would simply pass away..." And the replies below it read: "Don't worry girl, I'll hold him back for you." My face practically caught fire. I didn't dare move a muscle. Liam just stood there, looking down, calmly watching my comment get hundreds of likes in real-time. Just as I was about to die of asphyxiation from the embarrassment. Liam drawled lazily: "Ah. The Top 1% Super Fan who isn't 'part of my world.'" "..." 5 For days after that, I avoided Liam like the plague. I didn't dare bring up breaking the lease again. In a state of constant anxiety, I started my new job. I was an intern reporter for the entertainment desk of a digital magazine. New York was experiencing a brutal heatwave. The sounds of the city traffic were giving me a migraine. One day, my editor, Mr. Davis, suddenly dragged me out on a field assignment, saying the original intern called in sick. The shoot was in a sweltering park in Brooklyn. We baked in the sun for over an hour before the interviewee finally arrived. "Chloe? Is that really you?" Seeing Stella, I froze. She was our subject for the day. Mr. Davis wiped the sweat from his forehead, ignoring our connection, and fired off a few questions. Stella barely gave him the time of day. And I had to stand there with her, roasting in the sun. For the entire afternoon. When the interview finally ended, Stella took a sip of her iced oat milk latte and smiled. "Chloe, why didn't you tell us you had a boyfriend?" "We're old friends, why hide it?" "What?" I was completely lost. "The guy who defended you in the group chat the other night." Stella smirked. "He even pretended to be Liam just to stick up for you..." A few of the crew members nearby chuckled. "People still pretend to be celebrities online? I thought we left that in middle school." "Miss Chloe, if you want Liam's autograph, just ask Stella. He's literally on set today, there's no need to date an internet troll." I quickly explained, "I don't have a boyfriend." But the conversation had already moved on. Stella was chatting happily with everyone else, pretending she hadn't heard me. Mr. Davis pulled me aside. "Go take a break. You might be old classmates, but you're not in the same league anymore. What's the point of talking to her?" By early evening, the weather finally cooled down. I sat under a tree and clicked on the profile of the person who had defended me in the chat. To my shock, I realized this person was already in my contacts. The saved name was—Landlord. It suddenly hit me. Right before I moved to New York, my mom had texted me his contact card, telling me he was the landlord and to message him when I arrived. But since the time and place were already set, I never bothered to reach out. I tried to tap his profile picture, but my finger slipped. A tiny line of text popped up at the bottom of the screen: You nudged "Landlord". "..." The other side instantly switched to "Typing..." Landlord: "Need something?" I tentatively typed two words: "Liam? Thorne?" He seemed busy. It took a moment for him to reply: "If you have something to say, say it." "!" With that icy attitude, it had to be Liam! I abruptly looked up, trying to scan the area. And right on cue, I spotted Liam leaning against a luxury SUV a few yards away. He was wearing a ridiculously expensive tailored suit, his stage makeup flawless, his dark eyes like ink. He looked absurdly gorgeous. Was he shooting here today too? Our eyes met, and he raised an eyebrow slightly. My heart immediately skipped a beat. Then he looked down and tapped his phone. My phone buzzed. Landlord: "Top 1% Super Fan, reel in your eyes. You're staring." "..." The summer heat and my own embarrassment made me feel suffocated. I drank some water, but it didn't help. I decided to go to the public restroom to splash some water on my face and calm down. But as I approached the door, I heard whispers inside. "...is she the gold-digger Stella was talking about?" "Yeah. Her family is broke. She tried to seduce Liam in high school, and now she has some loser simp defending her online. Totally delusional." "Why would anyone simp for her?" "Some girls just know how to open their legs and get what they want." I stood by the door, listening silently, waiting until they walked out and saw me. Their faces dropped. "You... why didn't you go in?" I smiled. "I was busy listening to you talk trash about me." I held up my phone. "Thank you for letting me know Stella talks about me behind my back. I'll go ask her about it right now." The two girls panicked, waving their hands frantically. "No, no, no, we were just making things up!" "We're sorry, we're so sorry..." I looked skeptical. "So Stella didn't say it?" "No..." They shifted uncomfortably. "We're sorry, it was just dumb gossip." "Fine. Post a public apology on your Instagram stories. Make sure you detail exactly what lies you spread. Otherwise..." I paused, pulling out my digital voice recorder. "You do know what I do for a living, right?" Half an hour later, they showed me their phones. I didn't let them leave until I was satisfied with their miserable expressions. The apologies were live on their stories. Not hidden from anyone. So when I walked back to set, Stella's face looked like thunder. As night fell, the drama seemed to pass. Because the shoot ran late, Mr. Davis booked us rooms in a nearby five-star hotel. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. Landlord: "You're staying there tonight?" "Yeah." "Want to grab dinner?" I had just stepped out of the elevator. Intermittent laughter drifted from the elevator banks next to me. "...back in high school, Stella had me and a few girls jump her. She learned her place real quick after that." "You don't even know. Chloe and her mom are exactly the same. We sent people to harass her mom's street cart, and they didn't even dare squeak." It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. I stood frozen in place. Until the elevator doors closed. And the voices disappeared. It took a long time for me to process what I had heard. My mom had run a small food cart near the high school for years. I never knew they had hired people to harass her. What was even more terrifying was that the people who bullied me back then were working right beside me now. By the time I took the elevator back to the lobby to confront them, they were gone.
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