The "Golden Boy"—the one my wife always considered the great, lost love of her life—finally came back from abroad. Zavier was a classic predator, the kind of man who thrived on blurred lines and unspoken provocations. He had this infuriating habit of testing boundaries with my wife, Monica, and her tight-knit circle of friends. For a long time, I kept my temper on a short leash, swallowed my pride, and looked the other way. Until the day he pulled Monica flush against his chest. Reeking of expensive bourbon and unearned confidence, he claimed he was just "testing" the strength of their lifelong bond. "Come on, Monica," he whispered, loud enough for me to hear. "We literally bathed together as toddlers. It’s been years. You’re telling me I can’t even get a hug?" I watched as Monica’s face flushed a deep, betraying crimson. She looked at him with a mixture of shyness and adoration that made my blood run cold. I started to lift my hand, ready to trigger the "Heartthrob System"—a supernatural edge I’d kept buried and dormant for seven long years. But the reboot sequence was agonizingly slow. As Zavier’s hands began to wander lower, venturing past the point of no return, my five-year-old son, Jamie, walked out from the hallway. He looked at me with an intensity no child his age should possess. "Dad," he said, his voice steady. "Let me handle this." He paused, his eyes flicking to Zavier with pure disdain. "I’ve read this story before." 01. Zavier still had his arms wrapped around Monica. Sensing my simmering rage, he began to toy with a strand of Monica’s hair, twirling it around his finger like he owned her. "Don’t get all worked up, Ben," he said, flashing a shark-like grin. "Monica and I are family. We grew up together. Honestly, I’ve seen her in her birthday suit more times than I can count." Monica reacted faster than I could. "Zavier, stop! Ben, honey, don’t listen to him. That was when we were kids. He hasn’t seen me like that in forever." She said the words, but she didn’t pull away. Seeing her hesitation, Zavier pushed harder. "Oh, you forgot? That night in college when you got trashed and I had to carry you home? I was the one who got you out of those clothes and into bed." He tapped his lips, feigning a clumsy apology. "Oops. My bad, Ben. Don't take it personally. It was an emergency. Besides, I’ve been seeing her change since middle school. Looking at her is like looking at one of the guys. Totally platonic." Monica reached up to playfully cover his mouth, their bodies tangling even closer. In that moment, in my own home, I felt like a ghost. An outsider. I reached my breaking point. I closed my eyes and whispered in the silence of my mind. System? Are you there? A mechanical ping echoed in my skull. [Status: Online.] Reboot, I commanded. Now. Seven years. I never thought I’d need it again. I suppose the "seven-year itch" is real, and even a man with my natural charms couldn't compete with the ghost of a first love. I waited, my jaw tight. The progress bar crawled: [1%]. It wouldn't be ready in time to stop this. I’d have to use my own hands to teach this man a lesson in respect. Zavier, sensing the shift in the air, shifted his weight, pulling Monica into an even more suggestive angle. Suddenly, Jamie stepped in front of me. He pressed a small hand against my knee. "Dad," he whispered, so low only I could hear. "Let me." He looked back at me, his little mouth forming the words silently: I’ve read the original manuscript. Before I could process what he meant, he let out a piercing shriek. "AHHH! COCKROACH! BIG COCKROACH!" He hurled a small, brown, sticky-looking object directly at Zavier. Zavier might have acted like a tough guy, but he was a coward at heart. He shrieked, dodging frantically. He tripped over his own feet and slammed into the floor, the "cockroach" pinned squarely beneath his designer jeans. He felt something squelchy and let out a sound of pure disgust. "Monica! Control your kid!" he barked, scrambling up. "What kind of brat plays with bugs? I think I’ve actually scraped my skin!" He grabbed Monica’s arm, pulling her toward him. "You need to help me up. Take me to the ER. And you’re paying for the medical bill!" Monica’s maternal instinct misfired. She turned to scold Jamie, her face tight with embarrassment. I stepped forward, shielding my son. "The only person allowed to discipline my son is me." Monica balked, but Zavier wouldn't let it go. "Ben, I get that you love the kid, but this is ridiculous. I’m bleeding. He needs to be taught a lesson. Spare the rod, spoil the child." Monica nodded, her voice sharp. "He’s right, Ben. Jamie is getting out of hand." I sneered, ready to let him have it, but Jamie was faster. He darted toward Zavier and, before anyone could react, yanked Zavier’s waistband down, exposing his thighs. Jamie pointed a finger. "Liar! There’s no blood!" Then he looked up at Monica, his eyes wide and innocent. "Mommy, Daddy hates it when you touch dirty men." 02. The innocence of a child’s words can be the sharpest blade. Monica’s face went pale, then mottled with a dark, ugly rage. Under the watchful, judging eye of her "Golden Boy," she made a choice. She swung her hand. Slap. "Enough!" she screamed. I wasn't fast enough. Jamie tumbled to the ground. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" I pushed Monica back, kneeling to scoop Jamie into my arms. Monica turned her face away, refusing to look at us. Zavier, ever the opportunist, chimed in. "Ben, don't blame her. The kid needs boundaries. If you won't set them, someone has to." Monica echoed him, her voice cold. "Jamie needs to learn what he can and cannot say. Forget it. I’m taking Zavier to the hospital. You stay here and deal with your son." She didn't want a confrontation. She practically ran out the door, hovering over Zavier like a devoted nurse. Within seconds, the courtyard was silent, leaving just me and my boy. I checked his face. His cheek was already beginning to swell. "I'm so sorry, Jamie," I whispered, the guilt gnawing at my gut. I hated myself for not activating the System the moment Zavier showed his face. "This is on me." Jamie shook his head. He leaned into my ear. "Dad, remember what I told you? I know how this ends. I know the 'original plot'." He looked at me with a chillingly calm expression. "I did that on purpose. If I hadn't, she would have hit you." On the way to the pediatric clinic, Jamie laid it all out. In the "original story," Zavier comes back after blowing his fortune abroad. His goal is to seduce four of his former female classmates, drain their assets, and leave their families in ruins. Jamie was determined to save me because, out of all the women, Zavier "loved" Monica the most—which meant he was the most ruthless toward me. In the original ending, Zavier drives me to jump off a bridge. "I love you, Dad. And I love Mom. I don’t want either of you to get hurt." He hugged me tight, promising he would drive Zavier away and protect our family. I patted his head in silence. I decided I would talk to Monica one last time tonight. I waited until midnight. She didn't come home. Instead, I saw Zavier’s latest post on Instagram. Zavier_Official: Real friendship is having someone hand-feed you your favorite skewers when you’re 'injured.' The photo showed Monica leaning over him, a sweet, complicit smile on her face. I hit "Like." Seconds later, another post popped up. Zavier_Official: As a reward, I have to make sure my 'best friend' is full, too. The photo was a blurry, intimate shot of him looming over Monica. Her face was flushed with a post-coital glow. He sent it specifically for me to see. My wife was already gone. Jamie leaned over to look, but I covered his eyes with one hand. "Time for bed, kiddo." [System Reboot Progress: 35%] Monica didn't slink through the door until the next morning. She had a fresh, vivid hickey on her neck. I was sitting on the sofa, waiting. I didn't waste time. "What’s that on your neck?" Without Zavier there to perform for, Monica reverted to her "loving wife" persona. She covered the mark with her hand. "A mosquito bite." "That’s a hell of a mosquito." She gave a forced, sheepish laugh and knelt at my feet. "Ben, don't be like that. Look, I went all the way to that bakery downtown to get your favorite cake. Let’s just be happy. Yesterday... Jamie really crossed a line." "My son did nothing wrong." Monica’s expression hardened, but before she could start an argument, I spoke calmly. "Go take a shower." I told her to scrub herself ten times. I made it sound like a request, but it was an order. While she was in the bathroom, I followed Jamie’s advice and checked her phone. Sure enough, I found a group chat titled: "Zavier’s Harem." It was brand new. The first message was from Zavier. Zavier: @Everyone, since I’m an 'invalid,' I’m going to the mountain spa tomorrow! You’re all coming with me. No excuses for a sick man. Monica’s best friends were already tripping over themselves to reply. Only Monica hadn't answered yet. I opened her camera, took a photo of my own physique—the six-pack I’d worked years to maintain—and posted it to the group from her account while sitting on the edge of our bed. Monica: Sorry guys, I’m staying in to take care of my husband. Have fun. The chat exploded. Monica’s friends didn't hold back. "Monica, you lucky girl." "Ben is still the hottest man I've ever seen." "Must be nice to have a real man at home." It was a direct hit. I didn't expect Zavier to be so brazen, though. Zavier: Monica, you’re choosing your husband over your 'brother'? Anything he can give you, I can give you better. Or has it been seven years too long? Have you forgotten what I taste like? Then, Zavier posted a photo of himself in nothing but underwear. Zavier: Since you ladies are acting like you’ve never seen a man before... Monica, did you forget? Have the rest of you? I think we really need to get together and 'reminisce.' The women in the chat practically swooned through their keyboards. It was sickening. Then, Zavier sent a private DM to Monica’s phone. "Ben, even if you’re not willing, you should ask Monica what she wants." I gripped the phone until my knuckles turned white. I blocked him. [System Reboot Progress: 65%] 03. I expected Zavier to be the one to lash out. I didn't expect it to be Monica. She threw her phone against the wall with such force it shattered. A piece of glass sliced my cheek, drawing blood, but she didn't even blink. "Ben! Who gave you the right to touch my phone?!" She raised her hand as if to strike me, but Jamie scrambled out of his room and threw himself in front of me. "Mom, don't! Don't hurt Daddy!" I pulled Jamie back and looked at her with pure coldness. "You’re not even hiding it anymore, are you, Monica?" Seven years of marriage, a son, a life—all tossed aside for a washed-up "Golden Boy." Monica sneered. "I’ll ask one more time. Who told you that you could touch my things?" "I’ll touch whatever I want." For seven years, we had no secrets. I let her check my location, my messages, everything. Now, she had a "private life." I told her to get out. She didn't hesitate; she turned on her heel and walked. But the front door opened before she could reach it. Zavier was standing there, flanked by Monica’s three best friends. They were supposed to be at the spa. Zavier was wearing swim trunks and an open shirt. He took in the shattered glass and the tension in the room, then walked over to Monica and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Trouble in paradise?" He knew exactly what was happening. He took Monica’s hand and guided it toward his lap, right in front of me. I felt a wave of nausea. I covered Jamie’s eyes, ready to roar. Zavier spoke first. "Ben, I told you to ask her what she wanted. This is a friends' getaway. Spouses shouldn't interfere. Look how upset you've made her." Every word was a needle pressed into Monica’s ego. She melted into him, cooing, "What are you doing here?" The tone she used was unrecognizable—sweet, submissive, nothing like the woman who just screamed at me. Zavier grinned, squeezing her. "I was afraid Ben’s 'no' wasn't really what you wanted. So, I brought the spa to you. We’re going to use your big pool for some... private swimming lessons." "Isn't he the best?" one of the friends piped up. "Zavier, you have to help me with my stroke next." Monica pulled him closer, her possessiveness flaring. "I’m teaching him first," she snapped. They walked toward the backyard pool, the "squad" trailing behind them like disciples. I was left in the living room with the ruins of my marriage and my son. Jamie started to cry. He climbed onto the sofa and tried to wipe the blood from my face with his small sleeve. "Dad... this isn't how the book went." I held him tight. [System Reboot Progress: 85%] 04. Jamie was starting to doubt the "original plot." He still held onto a tiny sliver of hope that his mother could be saved. For his sake, I went out to the pool for one last attempt at reason. What I saw made me want to burn the house down. The pool, which I had meticulously maintained with imported saltwater, was now a mess of spilled drinks and suggestive chaos. Monica was draped over the edge, completely exposed, while Zavier moved behind her. She didn't even look ashamed when she saw me. "I'm just... helping him with his form." Her friends stood guard, giggling, their eyes glued to the spectacle. I felt a phantom bile rise in my throat. I was done. "Monica, we’re going to the lawyer tomorrow. I want a divorce." I turned to leave. Jamie, who had followed me, suddenly snapped. He was too young to fully grasp the filth of what they were doing, but he knew his mother was being taken. He knew his home was breaking. He sprinted toward Zavier. Before anyone could stop him, his tiny hand connected with Zavier’s face in a sharp slap. "Liar! You know how to swim! Why are you making my Mommy do this?!" Zavier let out a low, theatrical groan. "Monica, look at your son. He’s calling me a liar." He shifted in the water, making a mocking gesture. Jamie grabbed Zavier’s arm, screaming, "Get away from her! Get out of our house!" I ran to grab Jamie, wanting to pull him away from the rot. But the three "friends" stepped in, clawing at Jamie to help Zavier. In the chaos, Zavier looked at me, a look of pure, mocking triumph in his eyes. Then, he let himself fall backward into the deep end. "Help! I can't swim! He’s trying to kill me!" he screamed. Monica panicked. Without a second thought, she shoved Jamie and me. We weren't prepared. We tumbled into the water, and she immediately turned her back on us to "save" Zavier. "If anything happens to him, Ben, I’ll make sure you rot in a cell!" The women hauled Zavier onto the deck. Monica looked back at me with eyes as cold as a grave. The friends crowded around Zavier, who was faking a coughing fit. When I finally surfaced, clutching Jamie, they reached down—not to help us, but to push us back under. "Ben, this is too much," one of them said, her hand on my shoulder, shoving me down. "Zavier is a saint. You need to learn your place." Under the water, I struggled. Jamie had swallowed a mouthful; I could see the bubbles escaping his lips. He was terrified. But the hands on our heads wouldn't let up. Then I heard Monica’s voice from above the surface, muffled but clear: "Hold them down a little longer. They need to learn." I pulled Jamie into my chest, shielding him with my body, my heart hammering against my ribs. Then, Zavier’s voice: "Okay, Monica, I’m feeling better. Let’s play something else." The pressure vanished. I broke the surface, gasping, and scrambled to the tiles. I immediately started chest compressions on Jamie. He coughed up a lungful of water and started wailing. My vision went red. I looked at Monica, my voice a guttural snarl. "Monica... you’re going to regret this for the rest of your life." She didn't even acknowledge the threat. She just took Zavier’s hand and walked away. "What should we play next, Zavier?" I gripped the concrete until my fingernails bled. [Heartthrob System: Reboot 100%] [Would you like to activate, Host?] Activate, I screamed in my mind. Burn it all down.
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