As a travel influencer with forty million followers, I revealed Ryan Cole during my peak traffic hours. Just a single photo of his face pulled in over eight million likes. The comments were all asking the same thing—was he my boyfriend? I confirmed it outright. But barely half a day later, the tide turned completely. My comment section was flooded with mockery and abuse. "He just did a livestream with his girlfriend and said he doesn't even know you. How's that slap in the face feel?" "Go check out the Ryan&Zoe account. They're the cutest couple ever. You're posting someone else's boyfriend and claiming he's yours? Bullying a smaller creator just because she has fewer followers?" I froze for a few seconds, then followed the account name mentioned in the comments. It had three hundred thousand followers. The account belonged to Zoe Lane—a girl Ryan had grown up with since childhood. I screenshotted it and sent it to Ryan, demanding an explanation. His tone was dismissive. "Zoe doesn't have many followers. Her account's been stagnant forever. I'm just doing some couple-style content with her to help her grow." "It's not a big deal. Don't take it to heart." He said he didn't like filming videos, didn't like showing his face, didn't want to be on camera—yet he turned around and shot over a dozen couple clips with Zoe, even livestreaming together. Even that one photo I'd posted—I'd had to beg him for two weeks before he reluctantly agreed. I hung up in silence and deleted the photo. Fine. I'd step aside for them. Within an hour, I lost nearly a hundred and fifty thousand followers. Meanwhile, Zoe's account gained over a hundred thousand. I clicked into her page again. Ten minutes ago, she'd posted a new photo. It was a picture of her and Ryan together. Neither of them was looking at the camera. They were gazing at each other, smiling. Just that one simple photo—in ten minutes, the comments had already surpassed a thousand, likes had crossed twenty thousand, and the numbers were still climbing. I opened the comments and saw the pinned account. No need to guess. It was Ryan. The comments were all screaming that this was the real couple. Someone mentioned me. "Never thought a big influencer would post someone else's boyfriend and try to claim him. Isn't that right, @Emma Reed?" That comment shot straight to the top. I replied to her. "Sure. Whatever you say." Because of that single line, my DMs were invaded all over again. This time it wasn't just mockery—there were curses and things far more vicious. People even dug through my old videos, dissecting every caption word by word, insisting I'd always been problematic. Several brand partners messaged me, wanting to terminate our collaborations. They said the controversy around me had damaged their brand image and demanded I compensate them for their losses. That evening, Ryan came home carrying a blueberry ice cream cake—my favorite. He walked over and set the cake on the table. "Still mad?" His tone was the same as always—exasperated, like he was coaxing someone being unreasonable. "It's just some couple-style content. It's not like I'm actually with her." Just some couple-style content? When I wanted to go public, he said it was a hassle. Said he didn't want to show his face, didn't want to film videos with me. So his biggest concession had been that one photo. Ryan had never used any of these platforms, never even registered an account. After that photo went up, he didn't even acknowledge it. "Stop being upset," Ryan said. "Zoe's account has been lukewarm forever. This was her idea to fix that. You know what she and I are—I'm just helping her make content." Of course I knew. Ryan and Zoe had grown up together. They roughhoused and bickered like family. Zoe always said she was nothing more than Ryan's buddy—a bro-type friend—and couldn't possibly be into him. So when she found out Ryan and I were together, she let out a scoff and asked me with exaggerated disbelief: "What do you even see in him?" She clicked her tongue twice, laughing so hard she doubled over. "Ryan still wet his pants at six years old. Had one dream during puberty and panicked about it all day." "You probably don't know this, but the first time I wore a spaghetti-strap dress, his face turned red as a tomato. Ha!" It wasn't until Ryan got angry that she reluctantly shut up. That was supposedly their relationship. I looked at Ryan. "Do you have any idea what people are saying about me right now? The brands I work with have been affected by this too—they're all terminating their contracts. My reputation is ruined, and I have to pay breach-of-contract penalties." Ryan clearly didn't think the money mattered. He clicked his tongue. "How much? I'll transfer it to you." "Ryan, this isn't about money." I closed my eyes, then opened them. My chest felt blocked, a dull, suffocating ache. Hearing me say that, Ryan's patience was visibly running out. "Then what do you want?" "Zoe finally has some momentum. If we clear things up now, she'll definitely be affected." "I promise you—once her account is fully established, I'll set the record straight." I looked at him. He was worried about Zoe being affected. But it never once crossed his mind that I might be affected too. Especially when I'd gone public with him at the peak of my career. I opened my mouth to speak, but Zoe's video call came through first. Ryan raised his hand, cutting off whatever I was about to say. He answered the call. Zoe's voice came through from the other end. "Ryan, are you free right now? The fans want to see us livestream. I'm almost at your place." Ryan instinctively glanced at me. Zoe raised an eyebrow, her tone light and breezy. "Oh, Emma's there too? It's just a livestream. She shouldn't mind, right?" "She has nothing to mind." Ryan answered for me. "You know the code. Just let yourself in when you get here." After he hung up, I spoke. "Why does she know our door code?" Ryan said, "Last time she was too lazy to go home, so she crashed here for a night." As if remembering something, he added: "When Zoe gets here, don't make a face. It'll affect the livestream." I looked at Ryan. And suddenly, I had nothing left to say.
Zoe was livestreaming downstairs. I stayed in the bedroom and logged into her stream on my secondary account. The viewer count had already surpassed a hundred thousand and was still climbing. Zoe was leaning against Ryan's chest, happily eating that blueberry cake. Someone asked if she and Ryan were really a couple. Zoe casually nudged Ryan with her elbow. "Babe, the fans are asking—are we a real couple?" The gesture was so natural. Zoe used to say that she and Ryan had been around each other for so long that certain habits had just formed. She told me not to mind it, to just think of her as one of the guys. On screen, Ryan ruffled her hair. He smiled and said, "Of course we're a real couple." After he said it, Zoe scooped up a bite of cake and held it to his lips. Ryan didn't hesitate. He opened his mouth and ate it. But I remembered—Ryan didn't like sweets. Every time I bought cake and asked him to try a bite, he always refused. If I asked too many times, he'd get irritated. Eventually, I stopped asking. So it wasn't that he didn't like sweets. He just didn't like them from me. The comments were flying fast. Several mentioned me. "What's the deal with you and Emma? Is she delusional, or is she the other woman?" Ryan saw it. "What relationship..." I held my breath. I wanted to know too. After seven years together, what exactly were we to Ryan? After a long pause, he smiled and said, "No relationship. I don't know her." I froze. Then I laughed. Seven years, and all it amounted to was "I don't know her." "LOL, she literally posted your photo saying you were her boyfriend and that you didn't have an account. This woman can't say a single true thing." Back then, people had tried to dig up Ryan's account. I told them he'd never registered one and didn't use these platforms. That was the truth. But now, the truth had become evidence used against me. My heart felt like a chunk had been carved out of it. Ryan had no intention of explaining anything for me. Instead, it was Zoe who smiled and said: "Let's not bring up other people in the stream. Talk about something else." Ryan gave her an indulgent smile. He ruffled her hair again. "Sure. What do you want to talk about?" Zoe blinked playfully. "Then let's talk about how we got together." "Okay." Ryan agreed. I exited the livestream. After the room went quiet, the laughter from downstairs became even clearer. Two hours later, Ryan knocked on the bedroom door. He wasn't consulting me. He was informing me. "It's too late now. Let Zoe stay here tonight. She'll sleep in the guest room." After he said it, Zoe peeked out from behind him and draped herself over his shoulder. She smiled at me. "Emma, you don't mind, right? If you really mind, I can head home now." Ryan frowned. "It's this late. It's not safe for a girl to go back alone." Zoe glanced at me, her tone loaded with meaning: "Well, unsafe or not, if Emma doesn't agree, I'll still have to leave." "You're not going anywhere." Ryan's voice left no room for argument. "You're sleeping here." "But Emma..." She paused at just the right moment, leaving the rest unsaid. Ryan looked at me. "Emma, you—" I cut him off. "Whatever. I don't care." Ryan let out a breath of relief. "See? She doesn't mind." "Then thank you, Emma," Zoe said. "Don't worry. I really do think of him as a brother. Nothing's going to happen." I said nothing. Ryan came back into the room, grabbed some clothes, and was heading for the bathroom. I called out to him. "Ryan." He turned to look at me. But I didn't continue. My phone screen was still lit. On it was the message I'd just sent to a real estate agent. This house—the one we'd planned to get married in—I didn't want it anymore.
After the real estate agent came to view the property, he gave me a rough estimate. "If you're in a rush to sell, the price will be a bit below market value. Is that acceptable?" I didn't hesitate. "Yes. I need it sold fast." After seeing the agent out, I noticed Zoe's account had posted something new. I tapped on it. This time, it wasn't Zoe on camera. It was Ryan. In the video, Zoe's voice was cheerful. "Come see today's lunch—prepared by the handsome Ryan himself." "I suppose I'll manage some expectations." She narrated while filming Ryan cooking. Most of the time, the camera was pointed directly at Ryan's face. Ryan didn't like being filmed. He didn't like cooking either. So my camera had never been pointed at him. When neither of us had time to cook, we'd just order delivery. Seven years, and that had never changed. Riding the wave of couple content with Ryan, Zoe's followers quickly climbed to four million. Looking at her page—from the couple videos to the solo videos of Ryan—I finally realized just how obvious his double standard had been all along. I didn't finish watching. I closed out of the app. When I switched back to my main account, my phone lagged for a moment. My DMs were filled with ridicule and insults. Even without opening them, I could guess how ugly the messages were. I glanced at my follower count. In just three days, I'd lost over three million. Originally, I'd created this account to document my life with Ryan. But Ryan wouldn't have it. He said he didn't like putting his private life on the internet. So eventually, I pivoted to travel content. I loved documenting different cities, different landscapes, loved uncovering the history and stories behind each place. My followers had built up little by little, exactly that way. And it was probably because of that—me being so busy, always away—that Ryan and I constantly fought. He complained I was never home. So I decided to pause my work at the peak of my career. To stay with him. To go public with him. And he turned around and started making couple content with Zoe. My phone buzzed. I snapped back to reality and saw Ryan's message. "Emma, I'm going to Seattle with Zoe to film a video. About a week. I'll bring you back a gift." Before I could reply, another message came through—a voice note. It wasn't his voice. It was Zoe's. She said, all giggly: "Emma, don't worry. I promise I'll keep an eye on him and make sure no other girls get their hooks in." "But this trip is a couple's travel vlog, so we might have to share a room. Hope you don't mind. But relax—we're just friends." I curled my lip in a sneer and didn't reply. Shortly after, Ryan's call came through. The moment I picked up, his impatient voice hit my ear. "Didn't you see the message? Why didn't you reply?" He didn't even ask if I was busy. His very first words were an accusation. I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, the sound of an airport boarding announcement reached me from his end. That's when I realized—he wasn't asking for my opinion. He'd simply remembered, at the last second, that he should let me know. His words came rapid-fire: "Zoe and I are heading to Seattle to shoot a video. Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. I'll bring you something back. Gotta go." I opened my mouth. "Ryan, let's break u—" The call was already disconnected.
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