Every year for my birthday, my boyfriend would team up with his childhood best friend to throw me a "surprise." Last year, they rented out an escape room, claiming it was for my birthday party. I went inside and was locked in there for four hours. Outside, they were watching the security monitors, laughing so hard they couldn't stand up. Inside, I was shivering uncontrollably from sheer terror. By the time the staff finally pulled me out, my legs were complete jelly. I've had severe claustrophobia ever since. Afterward, my boyfriend held me and apologized profusely, swearing he would never do something like that again, promising that this year, he would give me a proper, wonderful birthday. So, when my birthday rolled around this year, and he mysteriously invited me out to a bar... I specifically got my hair blown out, bought a brand new dress, and even busted my ass at work to make sure I could leave early. But the moment I happily pushed open the door to the private VIP room, a bucket of rancid, foul-smelling liquid poured directly onto my head. I stood frozen in the doorway. A thick, sticky red substance dripped down my hair and over my face. It was watered-down ketchup, mixed with crushed eggshells that were now clinging to my bare shoulders. The entire room erupted into exaggerated, booming laughter. "I told you she'd wear a dress tonight! Liam, you lose!" Liam stepped out from the crowd of his friends, holding out a napkin to me, acting exactly like he always did. "You dressed up so nice, too. What a shame." "I made a bet with the guys on whether you'd wear a dress tonight. I bet you wouldn't. If I won, I was going to take you out to pick your birthday present. If I lost, you'd have to wait until next year." "Sorry about that. Since you wore a dress, no present for you this year." The pungent, sour smell invaded my nose. I stared at him in absolute, dead silence. "So, you did know it was my birthday today?" He laughed, reaching out to playfully ruffle my ruined hair. "Of course I know. We've been together for six years, how could I forget?" The foul-smelling liquid dripped steadily down the hem of my dress. In that exact moment, I felt a profound, overwhelming wave of absolute disgust. My birthday was nothing but the punchline to a prank. Just like how my feelings were nothing compared to his childhood best friend. I reached up and unclasped the necklace around my throat. It was the very first birthday gift he had ever given me. "Then let's break up." 1 The sound of the delicate necklace hitting the floor was completely drowned out by the roaring laughter in the room. Liam frowned slightly. "Don't be dramatic. It's just a little juice. I'll help you wash it out when we get home. You know how Chloe is, she's been a prankster since we were kids. Honestly, she went easy on you this time." "It's so hard to get everyone together. Don't make my friends think I'm dating someone who can't take a joke." Chloe, his childhood best friend, pouted and sauntered over. "Geez, Chloe, it was just a prank. If you hate it that much, we won't do it again, okay? Don't just throw around the word 'breakup'." "I told Liam you couldn't handle it, but he insisted you come. Look what happened." She huffed and threw herself onto the nearest leather sofa, puffing her cheeks out. Instantly, the gaze of everyone in the room shifted to me, their expressions turning judgmental and knowing. Chloe was the only daughter of a wealthy family in their elite, old-money neighborhood. She grew up pampered, the undeniable princess of their social circle. Whenever she was unhappy, everyone scrambled to coddle her. Liam was no exception. The first time I met her, she organized a game of Mafia. Everyone else drew standard character cards. But when it came to me, she secretly slipped me the 'Siren' card, leaned into my ear, and whispered: "When it's your turn, read the lines for this character. Make sure you act really slutty." I completely froze. I pushed the card back to her. "I don't think that's a good idea." Her face instantly dropped. She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Can't handle a game? Whatever. Forget it." The way the rest of the group looked at me instantly shifted. I heard someone mutter, "Why is she acting like such a prude?" Liam frowned at me too. "It's just a game, Chloe. Is this really necessary?" In the end, I didn't play. I sat alone in a corner drinking soda for the entire night. Meanwhile, Chloe was laughing hysterically, eventually revealing that there was no 'Siren' card in the deck—she had just made it up to mess with me. Feeling exhausted by the bullying, I casually remarked that it wasn't a very fun way to play. Chloe's eyes instantly welled up with tears, and she ran out of the room crying. The entire group chased after her to comfort her, including Liam. What was supposed to be a welcoming party for me ended with me sitting in an empty room, entirely alone. Liam didn't say anything about it afterward, but for future gatherings, unless Chloe explicitly gave the green light, he never brought me along. And now, Liam was glaring at me, his brows knitted in frustration. "Chloe, apologize to her." In the past, just to fit into his world. Just to save him from embarrassment in front of his friends, I would have swallowed my pride. I would have apologized and smoothed things over before he even had to ask. But right now, standing here covered in garbage, I realized that me ending our six-year relationship carried less weight than Chloe experiencing a minor moment of displeasure. I finally understood that, from the very beginning, our entire relationship meant absolutely nothing to Liam compared to his bond with his precious childhood best friend. I reached down and picked up the small clutch I had bought specifically for tonight. I met their judgmental, mocking stares. "Liam, we are done. I mean it. It's over." I turned on my heel and walked toward the door, the hem of my dress still dripping sticky red fluid onto the floor. Behind me, I heard Chloe's teasing laugh. "Your little 'pick-me' girlfriend is leaving. You really aren't going to chase her?" Liam let out a cold scoff. "She's just throwing a tantrum. If I actually chase her, what happens to you?" "Besides, she doesn't have anyone else but me. She's easy to calm down." My heart, already sliced open, was burning. His words were like freezing wind scraping against an open wound. Six years ago, Liam had confessed his love to me right in this very bar, swearing I was the only girl for him. When I was seventeen, my parents divorced and immediately started new families. I was dumped at my grandmother's house. After my grandmother passed away, I went through high school completely alone. I was terrified of relationships. I was terrified of relying on anyone. I rejected Liam five times. The last time, I was trying to pull laundry off the balcony line, lost my footing, and fell. He sprinted forward and caught me, but the momentum slammed the back of his head into the brick wall. He needed seven stitches. When I went to see him at the hospital, his eyes were red. "Chloe, why do you always have to act so tough? Can't you just let me protect you?" In that exact moment, my walls crumbled. I thought that maybe, if I dated someone this gentle, life wouldn't be so bad. That same day, he took me to the amusement park and officially asked me out. When he heard me say "yes," this guy—who was usually so composed and serious—picked me up and spun me around like a little kid. We spun until we were dizzy, both collapsing onto the grassy lawn. He used his body to shield mine so the rocks on the ground wouldn't hurt me. Sitting under the Ferris wheel, he swore to the starry sky above us that as long as he was around, I would never be lonely, and I would never be abandoned again. But now, the deep, vulnerable wounds I had finally gathered the courage to show him, the wounds that had finally started to heal, were being viciously ripped open by him all over again. I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. I pulled out my phone, opened my email, and clicked on the international job offer that was about to expire. [Accept Offer.] Turns out, clicking those two words wasn't hard at all. I looked up at the night sky, heavily polluted by the city's neon lights. Liam, I actually wasn't easy to calm down at all. And from now on, I will never need you to try. My flight was booked for the morning after next. I didn't have much time. As soon as I got back to our apartment, I rushed to shower off the disgusting, sticky mess, and then immediately started packing. I didn't own a lot of things. Packing was quick. One large suitcase and one carry-on, and I was done. At 2:00 AM, I booked a room at a nearby hotel. Just as I grabbed my bags to walk out the door, I ran straight into Liam, who was just getting back from the bar. He dumped a heavily intoxicated, stumbling Chloe onto the sofa, pulled a packet of brown sugar from his pocket, and handed it to me. "Good thing you're still awake. She's got her period but still insisted on drinking. Go boil some ginger and brown sugar water for her, or she's going to have brutal cramps tomorrow." I stood perfectly still, not moving an inch. When we first moved in together, my period cramps were so severe I was practically rolling on the floor. He had been a frantic, anxious mess trying to take care of me. In the middle of the night, I had tried to get up to boil my own ginger water. Because I was dizzy and distracted with pain, I ended up severely burning my hand on the stove. When he saw the burn, his sleepiness vanished instantly. Seeing me sweating from the pain, he was heartbroken and consumed with guilt. From that day on, he never let me touch anything remotely dangerous in the kitchen. Even when he was craving a home-cooked meal, he would rather order takeout than let me cook. For the past few years, I hadn't stepped foot in the kitchen to cook a single meal. He even pre-cut all my fruit before handing it to me. To this day, there was still a sticker he made hanging on the kitchen door: [DANGER ZONE: CHLOE KEEP OUT.] I let out a dry laugh, walked over, ripped the sticker off the door, and threw it in the trash can. "Sorry, not my job. If her stomach hurts, she can boil it herself." With that, I grabbed the handles of my suitcases, ready to leave. He lunged forward, grabbing my wrist in a vice grip, pinning me against the front door. "Okay, Chloe, enough. Talk is one thing, but packing your bags? I already told you it was just a joke, stop being so dramatic." "I know you were really looking forward to celebrating your birthday with me. I wanted to, too. Next year. We'll celebrate together next year, okay?" His breath, laced with the smell of alcohol, brushed against my neck. But unlike the past, a few soft words weren't going to fix this. I shoved him hard in the chest and slapped him squarely across the face. "Liam, I made myself perfectly clear. We are breaking up. I am not marrying you!" The slap didn't just sober him up; it seemed to shock Chloe out of her drunken stupor on the sofa. She stumbled over, raising her hand to slap me back. "Who the hell do you think you are?! Who gave you the right to hit Liam?!" "Break up then! There are plenty of good girls out there! You... you're nothing but a piece of trash!" A burning, stinging pain erupted across my cheek. My eyes blazing, I raised my hand to strike back. But Liam grabbed my wrist with terrifying force and violently shoved me away. The small of my back slammed hard into the metal door handle, a sharp pain radiating through my entire body. He shielded Chloe behind him, his expression filled with intense irritation. "She's drunk! Why are you fighting with a drunk person?!" "Enough. Go outside and cool off. We'll talk about this tomorrow." I stared at his complete apathy in sheer disbelief. He was treating me like an annoying, irrelevant stranger. He never looked at me again. Instead, he lowered his voice, gently comforting the drunk, erratic Chloe. He saved all of his tenderness for her. I dug my nails so deeply into my palms they almost drew blood. I grabbed my suitcases and walked out the door. After checking into the nearest hotel, I didn't close my eyes until dawn. When I woke up, my phone was blowing up with notifications. Besides birthday wishes from friends, it was mostly messages from coworkers asking why I wasn't at work, gossiping about whether I had some "good news" to share. My heart gave a painful throb. I typed a quick reply saying we broke up. I felt profoundly, deeply exhausted. The ping, ping, ping of notifications continued. Some thought I was joking. Some said it was impossible. Some even told me not to throw away a good relationship just because I didn't get an engagement ring. After all, in their eyes, Liam was gentle, considerate, and eternally reliable. A rare, perfect catch. But they didn't know that this "perfect catch"... On our two-year anniversary, arranged a romantic stargazing camping trip, only to use it as a setup for Chloe's prank, having a fake "ghost" jump out of the woods and nearly giving me a heart attack. And on our five-year anniversary, he watched as rancid, rotting liquid was dumped all over me. He had his reliable moments, yes. But the person he was reliable for was never me. In the past, I had automatically blocked out all these awful moments, constantly gaslighting myself into believing that, aside from the Chloe situation, he was truly good to me. But now that I was awake, I realized that a relationship like this wouldn't survive a marriage anyway. I offered a bitter smile and, out of habit, opened Instagram. Amidst the sea of birthday posts, Chloe's photo carousel was the most prominent. Liam took her stargazing, rode roller coasters with her, and ate cake with her. Even though in the past he would always finish humoring Chloe before coming to celebrate my birthday... He had never, ever done any of those things with me. He always claimed those activities were too childish, that staying home and watching a movie was more meaningful. I thought it was just a sign of his maturity, so I suppressed all my girlish, romantic hopes. But now, looking at the relaxed, genuine smile on his face in those photos... I realized it wasn't that those activities were childish. It was that doing them with me was a chore. The comment section was a miles-long parade of people calling them a perfect match. All our mutual friends had liked the post. It had more likes than our official relationship announcement did. Just as I was about to close the app, a message popped up. It was from Liam. 【Don't get the wrong idea. I just took her out to clear her head. Come by the apartment when you have time, she said she wants to apologize to you.】 I frowned, my fingers hovering over the keyboard to type No thanks. A delivery notification suddenly popped up at the top of my screen. I tapped it. It was for the birthday present I had bought for myself weeks ago. The shipping address was still set to his apartment. I thought about it. I did need to make things crystal clear. And I needed to return his keys. A clean break. I got ready quickly and hurried over. But the second I stepped through the door, Chloe sprinted toward me and grabbed my hand. "Chloe, come here! I have a surprise for you!" Before I could react, she dragged me toward the balcony, shoved me outside, and— The door slammed shut. The lock clicked from the inside. It was a chilly March night. The wind was biting. I was only wearing a thin sweater, standing barefoot on the freezing balcony tiles. Through the glass door, I saw Chloe making a grotesque face at me, mouthing the words: "Happy Birthday!" I pounded on the glass, screaming her name. She just giggled, shook her head, and turned back to the living room. From inside, I could hear their laughter. Someone turned the music up. I heard the clinking of glasses. I pounded on the door for ten minutes. My hands were bright red. No one came. Twenty minutes. Half an hour. I started shivering violently. I didn't know if it was the cold or the panic. I have severe claustrophobia. Liam knows this. Ever since Chloe locked me in that escape room, my claustrophobia had gotten exponentially worse. But right now, he was drinking and laughing with his friends. He had completely forgotten I was on the balcony. I curled into a tight ball in the corner, my body shaking uncontrollably. My throat was so tight I couldn't even force a sound out. Until my vision went completely white. Right as my eyes fluttered shut, I heard a familiar voice through the glass. "Chloe!" When I woke up again, it was evening. My heart was still hammering against my ribs, the suffocating terror of confinement still lingering from my dreams. My movement woke Liam, who was dozing in the chair beside the hospital bed. "Chloe, you're finally awake! You terrified me. The doctor said being in a confined space for too long, combined with extreme emotional distress, caused hypoxia and made you pass out." "She really does want to apologize. You know she's been spoiled since she was a kid, she doesn't know where the line is sometimes. But she didn't mean any real harm. Please don't hold this against her, okay?" In his desperate, rapid-fire rambling, there wasn't a single shred of concern about whether this trauma would permanently worsen my claustrophobia. Only excuses for her. I looked at him. I looked at the face I had loved for so many years, a face that now felt completely alien to me. Tears suddenly spilled down my cheeks. "I'm not angry. I just feel profound regret. I never, ever should have dated you." He froze. He opened his mouth to speak, but his phone screen lit up. Seeing the name [Chloe B.], Liam instantly swallowed his emotions. "I need to step out for a second. Get some rest. I'll be right back." He walked out quickly. Driven by a morbid impulse, I pulled myself out of bed and followed him. Through the crack in the heavy fire doors of the stairwell... I saw him sitting next to Chloe. "It's okay, stop beating yourself up. She won't be mad. She always gets over it." Chloe punched him lightly on the arm. "If she can't even handle this, imagine if she knew you only asked her out because we made a bet! A bet on whether you could get her to sleep with you in a month! She'd absolutely lose her mind!" In that split second, it felt like a bomb detonated inside my skull. Besides a deafening ringing, I couldn't hear a single thing. Liam covered her mouth, looking around nervously. "Shh! Keep your voice down! That was years ago, take that to your grave!" My legs gave out. It felt like every bone in my body had been vaporized; I couldn't even stand. The questions that had tormented me for years finally had their answers. Why, when forced to choose between the two of us, I was always the one discarded. Why Liam, who swore he loved me, could stand by and watch her hurt me over and over again. I had been stupid enough to believe he was just naturally non-confrontational and didn't know how to say no to a friend. I never imagined that every single thing he gave me was a lie. Even what I thought was our beautiful, cinematic meet-cute... was just a predatory bet, and I was the prey. To them, I was never Liam's girlfriend. I was just a pathetic clown performing for their amusement. In that moment, every last shred of my dignity was annihilated. I clamped my hand over my trembling mouth. I had to leave. Leave this suffocating, fraudulent nightmare. I took a cab back to the hotel, grabbed my luggage, and headed straight for the airport. I changed my ticket to the earliest available international flight. Right before takeoff, a message from Liam popped up on my screen: 【The doctor said you need to stay overnight for observation. Don't wander off. Where are you? I'll come pick you up.】 Looking at his hypocritical, sickening concern, I laughed until there were tears in my eyes. I didn't reply. I blocked his number, blocked Chloe's number, and deleted every single mutual friend we shared. Liam. I'm officially tapping out of your sick little game.
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