On the day the high school queen bee who bullied my boyfriend gets married. My boyfriend jumps into the ocean to kill himself. While sorting through his belongings, I found a hidden folder on his computer. It was overflowing with photos of her, filled to the brim with his longing and love for her. He even wrote a song for her: [Every day without you, I toss and turn, sleepless.] So, when I am suddenly reborn, back to the day she rallies the entire class to isolate him. I withdraw my gaze and do not stand up for him. But he stops me, his voice trembling and desperate: "Why... why aren't you helping me this time?" 1 The genius singer-songwriter Carter released a new song, Harper. The reference in the song was too obvious. During an interview, everyone asked if the new song was modeled after the woman he loved. The corners of his lips curled up. He looked at the camera with a cold, clear gaze. "Yes. I wish her happiness." A reporter, eager for drama, slyly asked: "By wishing her happiness, does that mean you are marrying Stella?" I am Stella. From high school until now. From a dim basement apartment to a glittering mansion. We had walked hand in hand for over a decade. This was no secret in the industry. In the video, Carter looked slightly stunned to hear my name. He didn't answer the reporter's question. He merely announced that the interview was over and left under the escort of his staff. I watched this fruitless interview. I remembered a saying I had read before. If you've been with someone for many years and still haven't gotten married, there's a high probability you never will. I just didn't expect that Carter and I truly wouldn't get married. Because he committed suicide by jumping into the ocean. On a large rock by the sea, he left an old, outdated cell phone. The screen was left open on his text thread with Harper. There was an unsent message: I love you. 2 Carter was an orphan. With him gone like this, I was the only one left to handle his affairs. He probably anticipated this day long ago. He had drawn up a will early on, arranging everything meticulously. He said he loved children, so he donated his savings to the foster care system. He said he didn't have a family, so he left all his real estate to me. He said there was a love he couldn't speak of in this life, and by dying, he could finally be brave for once. He even remembered the kindness of a young intern who had only crossed his path a few times to bring him fruit at the company. But for me, he didn't leave a single word. It was as if the decade I spent by his side was entirely insignificant. Utterly irrelevant. Like a soulless marionette, I handled everything for him. Until I found an old laptop he hadn't used in years sitting on a bookshelf. In a folder I accidentally opened. It was packed with photos of another woman. Our high school's queen bee, Harper. He had named the folder [Daisy]. The flower language of the daisy is hidden love deep in the heart. Feeling almost suffocated by despair, I counted them. Exactly 520 photos. But after high school graduation, they had never crossed paths again. I clicked through the photos. Some of them clearly had social media watermarks at the bottom. The earliest one was Harper taking a bow after her performance at the freshman orientation gala. The most recent one was Harper's wedding photo. I suddenly understood who Carter's new song Harper was written for. There was a lyric in it: [Every day without you, I toss and turn, sleepless.] He was using the song to scream his love to the world. I also finally understood the meaning of I wish her happiness. My heart felt like it was being crushed in someone's fist, throbbing with a piercing, unbearable pain. At the very bottom of the photos was a document. It recorded his secret crush on Harper starting from freshman year. How ridiculous. Harper bullied him from the first day of school. She mocked him for being a hillbilly, cornered him in the bathroom to dump cold water on him, hired guys to beat him up in an alley after school, cut up his clothes, forced him to do her homework, and made him run errands to buy her snacks... I couldn't stand watching it, so I saved him time and time again, pulling him back to a normal life. He didn't care about any of that. The only thing he cared about was that on a rainy day, Harper tossed him an umbrella. He felt the whole world stop. Amidst the noise of the world, only her beautiful silhouette remained. It was that silhouette that obsessed him for a lifetime. Even his decision to become a singer was because Harper mocked the lyrics he hid in his notebook after playing a prank on him. She read those embarrassing, emotional words out loud in front of the whole class. She provocatively told him that not just any stray dog off the street could be a star. Instead of feeling humiliated, he only wanted to stand at the very top, just so she would look at him. My eyes stung. So, my years of devotion were just a joke. I didn't even deserve a name in his story. With trembling hands, I read the last line Carter typed. [If there is a next life, I will be brave.] Tears blurred my vision. If there is a next life, I absolutely will not interfere in the drama between you two. Go chase your true love! 3 When I opened my eyes again, Carter was introducing himself on the podium. When the teacher asked him to sit next to me and be my desk mate. I only froze for a second before my hand shot up. "Mr. Davis, I don't want to." Yes, I was back in high school. The exact year Carter was secretly in love with the girl who bullied him, Harper. This time, I wasn't going to help him. Carter on the podium clearly didn't expect me to say that. His face flushed bright red. In an instant, embarrassment and hurt washed over his face. Perhaps not understanding my reaction, the homeroom teacher was stunned for a moment before asking in a deep voice, "Why?" Because I didn't want any entanglement with Carter whatsoever. I wasn't going to have any ties to this ungrateful backstabber. "I can read auras, and his clashes with mine," I lied with a straight face, not a trace of panic in my voice. The teacher was rendered speechless, scolded me for being superstitious, but ended up seating him next to the queen bee, Harper. When he walked over, I saw Harper roll her eyes. She exaggeratedly shoved her chair away and spat out two words: "Ew, trash." At this time, Carter was living in a foster home and worked odd jobs after school. His living conditions were poor, making him look malnourished and much thinner than the other boys his age. His clothes were washed out, heavily patched, and completely out of style. In my past life, when he was my desk mate and Harper sat in front of us, she called him trash. I kicked her chair hard and told her to wash her filthy mouth. Because I knew that once bullying starts, if no one stands up, it only gets worse every day. At the time, I had no romantic interest in Carter; I just genuinely hated seeing him get picked on. But this time. Watching Harper's actions, I didn't say a single word. But I noticed Carter's back go completely rigid. I even had the fleeting illusion that he wanted to turn his head and look at me. I ignored it and kept my eyes on my textbook. 4 After being reborn, I was only lost for a few days before I adapted to my new life. Actually, for a long time growing up, I regretted failing my college entrance exams and not getting into my dream university. So this time, it felt like a gift from above. I was going to seize it. I didn't care how things developed between Carter and Harper. Falling in love with your own bully? And obsessing over her forever? Why would I try to save a masochist like that? So, when school was almost out, I saw Harper and her clique corner Carter in the girls' bathroom. I just washed my hands. I tactfully didn't even glance their way. "Do you know how disgusting you are?" "You smell terrible! It's making me sick!" "Carter, do you roll around in the garbage or something?" "Does your foster home not have showers? Let me wash you!" ... Filthy insults spilled from Harper's mouth. In my past life, I couldn't understand how such a pretty girl could be so rotten. So when I bumped into them cornering Carter, I stepped in front of him, shielding him behind my back. I fought a fierce verbal battle with Harper until she stormed off in a rage. And that bucket of cold water was never poured over Carter. At the time, I even told him that when faced with bullying, he had to fight back because no one could save him every single time. He thanked me, but I didn't notice that his eyes were glued to Harper's retreating back. Thinking back now, why did I even butt in? Who knows, Carter was probably thoroughly enjoying it on the inside. So, I picked up my pace toward the bathroom door. Halfway there, the bucket of water finally splashed all over him. I didn't break my stride. I pretended I saw nothing. I kept walking forward. Until I heard Carter's hoarse, desperate voice call out to me: "Stella..." 5 Tough luck! I ran even faster. As a result, I didn't see the person in front of me and crashed right into a guy, knocking him to the ground. "What the f*ck..." The guy sitting on the ground squinted his eyes, rubbing his forehead. He looked like trouble. Terrified that Carter would run out and see me, I threw out a quick "Sorry!" and bolted. Without my help, Carter was essentially living in a fiery hell. Kids this age are naturally sensitive and insecure. Combined with his bone-deep pride, he didn't utter a sound no matter how badly he was tortured. Harper seemed to love the feeling of trampling him under her feet, constantly inventing new, cruel ways to torment him. She only reined it in a bit recently. Because she was preparing for her performance at the freshman orientation gala. Carter's first photo of her was her holding her award on that stage. I wasn't interested, so I skipped the gala this time. I thought Carter wouldn't miss the chance to see his goddess. But to my surprise, he didn't go either. Seeing his figure in the classroom, I froze for a second. Then I started packing my bag to go home. "Stella." As I zipped my bag, he turned his head. His brow was furrowed, as if he was suppressing some intense emotion, eager to prove something. In my past life, being with Carter for so many years, he rarely showed any emotional fluctuation. Even during intimate moments, he was always cold and distant. One of his few moments of losing control was when he confessed to me at high school graduation. The boy's gaze was sincere and burning. Asking me to be with him seemed to take every ounce of his strength. He stared at me, gripping the hem of his shirt tightly, his eyes overflowing with love, terrified I would say no. But now, overlapping that memory with the figure before me, I only felt sick. Maybe back then, he was just looking through me, seeing someone else. So I just gave him a flat, indifferent glance. Under his expectant gaze, I walked right out the door. 6 Carter was cornered by Harper again. This time, it was in a small alley right off campus. It was also on my route home. I don't know if it was my imagination, but I felt like I saw a flicker of hope deep in Carter's eyes. Was he hoping I would save him like in my past life? Absolutely not! I gave a passing glance and looked away. Harper had a bizarre obsession with bullying Carter. "Trash, what are you holding?" She laughed cruelly. "Are you a pervert? That looks like a girl's accessory." Carter clenched his jaw, saying nothing. Denied an answer, Harper reached out to snatch it. "Did you steal my stuff, you freak?" To everyone's surprise, Carter reacted violently. He shoved Harper away, but his eyes locked onto me. "It's not yours." His voice was dangerously low. "If you break it, I'll kill you." It scared me so much I stared straight ahead and fast-walked away. As determined as if I were marching to join the military. The tiny glimmer of light in Carter's eyes slowly died out against my coldness. Soon, I heard the sound of fists hitting flesh. And his muffled groans. I still didn't look back. But out of the corner of my eye, I saw him desperately gripping whatever was in his hand. 7 Just as I exited that alley, I stumbled into another one. And ran into someone vaguely familiar. His face was bruised, and he was slumped against the wall. His clothes and jeans had streaks of blood on them. Looked like he had just survived a brutal street fight too. Tsk, this route was cursed. I'll take a detour next time. Just as I thought that, the guy spoke up: "Hey, leaving me to die?" I froze in my tracks. I've read enough novels to know you don't just pick up stray men off the street, especially not handsome ones. Besides, I saved Carter over and over in my past life, and he never remembered my kindness. Why should I meddle in someone else's business again? So, I pretended I didn't see him. Just as I lifted my foot to leave, he shot me a sideways glance. "Seriously? Not gonna save me?" He was persistent. He scoffed lightly. "You can't even help me up? Last time you knocked me down, my tailbone is still hurting." I pulled out my phone. "I can call 911 for you." He raised an eyebrow. "You're really something." "Thanks. Since you can still talk, I'm guessing you're not fatally wounded." "I'm not lying, I really can't walk. If you help me up, I won't sue you. We go to the same school, right?" Seeing I still wasn't moving, he let out an exasperated laugh. "Are you always this defensive?" "I don't know if you're a good guy or not. What if you've got a knife and decide to stab me because you're having a bad day?" "You've got a wild imagination." He pulled his student ID out of his pocket and tossed it at my feet. "Liam, Class 3." I bent down and picked it up. Yep, he was from my school. "I help you up, and then what?" "Lady, if you wait any longer, my leg is actually going to fall off!" I finally noticed the blood seeping continuously through his pant leg. But I still hesitated. The Carter situation had left me with major psychological trauma. "What are you thinking about? Sister, I'm dying here." With a heavy sigh, I walked over, bent down, pulled his arm over my shoulder: "Is it completely broken?" "Right leg." "Okay, I'll support you. Use your left leg to stand up." I vastly underestimated Liam's weight. I couldn't lift him at all! I refused to give up and used every ounce of strength I had. Then I heard a gritted voice from above my head: "A minute ago it was my leg, now my arm is going to snap." Oops, my bad... I finally managed to support him to the entrance of the alley. Only to come face to face with a severely bruised Carter. 8 His gaze lingered on me for a long time. Then, he stared in utter disbelief at Liam, whose entire body weight was leaning on me. I almost saw his tightly wound emotions crumble piece by piece. I remembered the past. When I used to show up when Harper was harassing him, I would scream "Fire!" to draw a crowd and save him. It was me who stepped forward to support his bruised body, asking if he was okay. I even took him to the hospital and stayed with him all day. At the time, I truly didn't have romantic feelings for him. I was just genuinely a nice person. What happened later taught me that being the 'good guy' is a thankless job. You don't even earn a word of gratitude. So now, I had completely withdrawn my kindness toward him. "Stella." Carter's voice was hoarse, carrying a barely detectable tremor. "You helped him." I looked at him calmly and frowned slightly. He took a step forward, his frail body trembling. To my confusion, he held out his hand. In his palm lay a strawberry hair clip. The thing he had fought so desperately to protect just moments ago. It was mine. Like a drowning man grasping at a final lifeline, he looked at me with despair and near-begging eyes. His voice dropped to a whisper: "Why... why aren't you helping me this time?" 9 For a split second, I thought I was seeing things. How could Carter have a look like that on his face? He was gloomy, silent, cold, and never smiled. He liked Harper. This was also the third time he had called my name since I was reborn. But this was the same guy who didn't leave me a single word before he killed himself. He was so utterly ruthless, acting as if I were just a passing NPC in his life. So when I looked up at him, my eyes were filled with pure ice. "Do we know each other?" He had asked me the exact same question the first time I saved him in our past life. I thought he was just embarrassed about being seen at rock bottom. So I had told him we were desk mates, and I wanted to protect him. Looking back now. He probably didn't give a damn about my self-proclaimed 'kindness'. During every sleepless night since my rebirth, I wondered—did I do something wrong? Now, I wasn't helping him. I was helping someone else. I didn't know what he was thinking. But I remembered a quote I read a long time ago. [I just want you to clearly watch me give up on you, time and time again, to save someone else.] [To let you spark with hope, then despair, torturing yourself in endless darkness.] So, whatever he was thinking, let him think it. If he got the wrong idea, even better. "We are..." Carter opened his mouth, his chest heaving violently, his face pale. He seemed to want to scold me. After all, even if we weren't desk mates, we were in the same class. I shouldn't leave him to die. But his words were violently interrupted by the guy leaning on me: "A grown man, your arms and legs work fine. Stop playing the victim. Stella, if we don't move, I'm going to collapse." Tsk, pretty fierce for a guy who needs someone to hold him up to walk. Liam didn't lose an ounce of his arrogant attitude. Carter was stunned by his words. His lips trembled slightly, and the corners of his eyes turned red as he stared at me. I just wanted to dump this annoying burden as fast as possible. So I agreed, "Let's go. I'll take you to the hospital." Hearing my words, the previously silent Carter looked like a ghost. His frail figure swayed unsteadily, looking like a strong gust of wind would blow him away. But the look he gave Liam was bone-chillingly cold. 10 "That guy looked at you like a total psycho. You better stay away from him." Sitting in the cab, Liam suddenly spoke up. "Unlike me. I have good character, a loving family, and I'm a simple guy without all those twisted, dark thoughts." ??? I turned my head to look at his flamboyant, battered face and couldn't help but say, "Then why were you fighting? And if you're so terrible at it, why did you let yourself get beat up this badly?" Liam bristled instantly, puffing out his chest like a proud peacock. "Excuse me, I fought a whole gang by myself, okay? They're way more hurt than I am! I'm just bleeding a little; they're wrecked." "So, if it's just 'bleeding a little,' we don't need to go to the hospital?" Liam froze, pressed his lips tightly together, and immediately leaned weakly against the window. "I can't... my blood sugar is crashing. I'm going to pass out." My silence was deafening. But I still pulled a piece of chocolate out of my pocket and handed it to him. He happily took a bite, the tips of his ears turning bright red. As I was leaving the hospital, Liam grabbed my sleeve and insisted on getting my number. "You're my lifesaver! I'm taking you out to dinner when I get discharged." "I'm Liam from Class 3. Remember that! When I transfer into your class next time, you'll see. I'm a genius at AP Physics." I froze. I suddenly remembered something. I had seen Liam's name in my past life. It was in a news article about research on parallel universes. He was the author of the published paper. But the buzz around his paper was completely overshadowed by the news of Carter's suicide. The internet trending topics dragged Harper into the spotlight as well. After discovering how beautiful she was, many people started writing fanfiction about their tragic romance. They praised Carter as a devoted lover, using his suicide to prove his epic love. And I was painted as the evil, scheming villain who ruined their relationship. I tried to clear my name countless times, but because Carter was dead, I had no proof. People flooded my private accounts with the most vicious insults imaginable. They even claimed I drove Carter to suicide so I could inherit his company and money. They conveniently forgot that his will left absolutely nothing to me, not even a single word of goodbye. He was truly selfish.
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