I spent five years training Oliver into a docile, obedient boyfriend. Yet, on his twenty-third birthday, he still leaped into action to save a beautiful girl in a wheelchair. I finally believed it: no matter what I did, I couldn't stop him from meeting the true "female lead" and falling in love with her. So, I broke up with him. I even told our mutual friends: "Oliver? He's just an ungrateful stray dog. Whoever pets him, he follows." Rumor had it. When Oliver heard those words, he bought a plane ticket out of the country that very day and completely dropped off the grid. Three years later, on a random night. I was pinned against my front door by a violent, unhinged man. He handed me a switchblade, grabbed my right hand, and guided it toward the leather choker around his neck. "Hazel, I am your dog. Yours alone." "If you don't want me, then kill me." 1 I had a crush on Oliver for exactly ten years. But just yesterday, I had an awakening. I realized I was just cannon fodder in a romance novel. And Oliver’s destined soulmate wasn't me. Just as I was agonizing over whether to bury this decade-long love deep in my heart forever... Oliver used our college graduation party as an excuse to publicly confess his feelings to me. I was ecstatic, but I didn't dare say yes right away. Because I knew the truth. By the end of the novel, the male lead would only end up with the female lead. Even if I accepted his confession now. I would inevitably be dumped later. I was terrified of heartbreak, and even more terrified of ending up like my character in the original book—abandoned by Oliver in the pouring rain. So. I didn't reach out to take the roses he offered. "Oliver, I don't think we're a good match." "My tastes are a bit unconventional. You probably wouldn't be able to handle it." Oliver immediately insisted: "I can handle anything." I took a deep breath, curling my lips into a wicked, playful smile: "I'm extremely dominant. I want a future boyfriend who is gentle, unconditionally obedient, and willing to be my dog." "Bark for me." Amidst the roaring crowd, Oliver dropped to one knee in front of me and gently hooked his finger around mine. "Master, take me home." "Please?" 2 The scene from that day spread through our entire social circle like wildfire. Oliver's iconic "willing to be a dog for love" moment was recorded by a classmate, posted on TikTok, and blew up. It hit a million likes overnight. It drew in countless people who actually knew Oliver. [Holy crap, I know Oliver. He's our varsity basketball captain. Handsome, straight-A student, 6'2", and old money. How the hell did he end up barking like a dog?!] [Bro, who's more pathetic than me? Oliver was my crush. I simped for him forever and got rejected. Now I know: simps don't like other simps.] [Manifesting this exact kind of boyfriend. Just once before I die, please.] [Can you guys drop the details on what exactly he does as a 'dog' behind closed doors?] ... Everyone cheered for our relationship. But I was the only one with a lingering sense of dread. I was counting down the days every single second. According to the original plotline... How many days were left until Zoe made her appearance? Over the course of five years, I trained Oliver into an incredibly obedient and attentive boyfriend. Oliver even created a couple’s account for us to vlog our ridiculously sweet daily lives. In just a few short years, it grew into an empire with tens of millions of followers. Even the internet unanimously approved: [OP, you know the internet usually tells everyone to break up, right? But your boyfriend is too perfect. If you ever dump him, pass him to me.] [I have sensitive skin, can I also get this exact brand of boyfriend?] [Girl, how did you manage to bag the best guy in the world? Drop the link, I'm ordering ten.] [After doom-scrolling through so many toxic relationship videos, seeing OP and her boyfriend literally cured my depression.] I finally breathed a sigh of relief. I figured... Even if Zoe showed up eventually, it shouldn't cause any real damage. But on Oliver's twenty-third birthday, the inevitable accident happened anyway. 3 Oliver had just closed his eyes to make a wish over his birthday candles. Suddenly, he bolted out the door like a madman, sprinting straight toward the steep incline across from the cafe. On the hill, a girl's wheelchair had lost control and was rolling backward at terrifying speed. Just as the wheelchair was about to tip over, in the absolute nick of time... Oliver threw himself forward, using his own body to catch Zoe. Zoe fell into his arms, completely unharmed. But Oliver's forehead hit a stone in the planter, and blood started streaming down his face. Watching the entire scene unfold, I literally forgot how to breathe. Oliver is a cold person by nature. He doesn't toss spare change to the homeless, he doesn't help girls open water bottles, he doesn't help the elderly cross the street, and he certainly doesn't give up his seat on the subway. For such a selfish, indifferent guy to suddenly turn into a hero... My heart, which had been hanging by a thread for five years, finally died. I ran out the side door of the cafe like I was fleeing for my life. I wandered aimlessly down the busy city streets. The pale sky suddenly dropped a few scattered raindrops. In that moment. I finally believed that no matter what I did, I couldn't stop the universe from forcing Oliver and the female lead to meet and fall in love. So what were these past five years? Just a long, pathetic joke in Oliver's life. Oliver finally realized I was gone and sent a text: [Hazel, where did you go?] I typed out a massive paragraph, deleted it, typed more, and eventually whittled it down to a single sentence: [Let's break up. I've wanted to for a long time.] I felt that even if I told him the truth about the novel, it wouldn't matter. Maybe at first, he would swear up and down that he would never change his mind. But as time went on... The scales in his heart were fated to tip toward Zoe. Just like in the original book. Today, Zoe was supposed to be in a run-down neighborhood on the outskirts of the city, miles away from here. And Oliver was supposed to meet her there. See? Even though I kept Oliver far away from that neighborhood... Zoe still appeared. They were the destined pair. I was just an insignificant glitch in the matrix. The next day, when I saw Zoe getting added to a group chat that Oliver and I were both in by one of our mutual friends... I wasn't even surprised. She was the female lead, after all. She was meant to slowly infiltrate his life. My friends would probably all become her friends in the end. 4 Oliver, completely blindsided by the sudden breakup, was frantic. He texted me: [Hazel, listen to me. I swear to God I have no idea why I suddenly ran out there to save that girl today.] [I didn't even see her at first, do you believe me?] [...Hazel, please reply. I'm begging you.] I sat by the bay window, leaving my phone on the cushion, letting the screen light up and go dark over and over again. The phone was on silent, vibrations off. No calls would make a sound. Just like that. I sat there and watched the pouring rain all night. The next morning, I put on flawless, sharp makeup and went to work like usual. My coworker Becca was a mutual friend of Oliver and me. She had somehow heard through the grapevine that Oliver and I were fighting, and she tried to play peacemaker: "Hazel, what's going on with you and Oliver? Is it really over that wheelchair girl?" "She's just a random stranger. Oliver was probably just acting on instinct." "If you break up with him over this, you're punishing him for the rest of his life just for doing one good deed." I smiled faintly: "You don't understand him." "Oliver? He's just an ungrateful stray dog. Whoever pets him, he follows." "I set my terms. I said I wanted a boyfriend who was obedient and submissive. If he can't follow my rules, he's out." Honestly, when I said those harsh words... My heart was breaking more than anyone else's. But I had already tried my best. It didn't work. So be it. I might as well clean up the mess and salvage what was left of my pride. That way, years from now, when he and Zoe were lying in bed talking about me, my memory would at least be cold, aloof, and untouchable. 5 I got home from work. And saw a new string of texts from Oliver. He was confronting me about what I had said to Becca: [So, Hazel, in your eyes, I'm just a dog you throw away the second you get bored, and then you have the nerve to call me an ungrateful stray?] [How did I never know you were this kind of person!] I replied instantly: [Well, now you know.] [I really am that despicable.] Oliver shot back: [I want to fucking bite you to death, Hazel.] [I refuse to break up. Get back together with me. Right now.] I responded with a swift, merciless 'Block'. Starting the very next day, Oliver completely vanished from my world. It wasn't until two weeks later that I found out the truth. Rumor had it, the night I blocked Oliver, he bought the earliest flight out of the country the next morning. Becca said Oliver had asked her to pass on a message. "What did he say?" I asked, flipping through some files, feigning total indifference without even looking up. "He said he hates you to death." "He left the TikTok account to you. You can rebrand it and monetize it however you want, and you can delete all the old videos. He said he doesn't care anymore..." After finishing, Becca tried to comfort me: "Hazel, how did things blow up this badly between you two?" "I really feel like he just said all that out of anger. Don't take it to heart. Once you calm down, just snap your fingers and he'll be crawling back to apologize..." "No." I shook my head, cutting her off: "We are really, truly over." On the outside, I was a picture of perfect calm. But those words echoed violently in my head. From the moment I got to work until the second I went to sleep, they haunted me. I sat paralyzed on my sofa, staring blankly into space for hours. It wasn't until the washing machine finished its cycle and beeped that the trance broke. And two streams of scalding tears finally rolled down my cheeks. Goodbye forever, Oliver. Just hate me. Never forgive me. 6 One night, three years later. I dragged my exhausted body, on the verge of fainting, and finally made it to my front door. My boss was a tyrant. He knew my period cramps were making me want to die, but he absolutely refused to let me take a half-day off. To make it worse, he intentionally scheduled a "last-minute meeting" right at clock-out, torturing me for two extra hours. Maybe I was already delirious. I dug through my purse for an eternity but couldn't find my keys. I also completely failed to notice the long, dark shadow looming over my head. Before I knew it, I was violently slammed against my own front door. I jumped out of my skin, stammering in terror: "M-Mr. Mugger, let's talk this out." "I have an infectious disease, so assaulting me is a bad idea. How about you just rob me? I have 67 bucks in my Venmo, I can send it to you right now. Do you have a QR code? If it's not enough, I can try to scrape some more together." "Heh." The violent, brooding man let out a dark, mocking scoff. He lowered his gaze and pulled down his face mask. I hadn't seen him in three years. I don't know what country Oliver had been living in. But he looked incredibly dark, melancholic, and dangerously unhinged. I strained to look up at him. He was so tall. He towered over me by more than a full head. "Oliver, could you duck down a bit? My neck hurts." Oliver froze for a second, but obediently lowered his head. I pushed my luck and asked: "What do you want from me?" "I just need you to do me a favor." Oliver pulled a folding pocketknife from his jacket and handed it to me. Then, he wrapped his large hand tightly around my right hand, slowly guiding the blade toward the leather choker around his neck. "I spent three years figuring it out." "Hazel, I am your dog. Yours alone." "If you don't want me, then kill me."
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