My best friend Claire constantly uses me to test her boyfriend’s loyalty. She sends him suggestive messages from my account, orders lingerie in my name, then gets a thrill watching him shut me down and declare devotion to her. This time, she invited me to dinner and had her boyfriend Julian serve me food while she watched with a sly smile. I was mortified—until comments flickered in my vision: [Here we go again. The rich protagonist uses our girl because she’s insecure the male lead actually loves the side character.] [She even sabotaged her scholarship and ‘sponsored’ her to stay close.] [Sienna, just eat the food. Use this guy to climb up. Let’s see who laughs last.] 1 It took me a long moment to process what I’d just read. I had never, not for a second, imagined that the anonymous tip that cost me my scholarship all those years ago had come from my best friend. For years, I had been profoundly grateful to Claire. When I had nowhere else to turn, she paid for my education. I considered her my truest friend. Even after I paid back every cent, I continued to do everything in my power to repay her kindness. No matter how absurd her schemes to test Julian were, I would grit my teeth through his condescending glares and humiliating remarks, sending those degrading messages for her. I told her again and again that she and Julian were childhood sweethearts, that he was with her because he loved her. But she refused to believe it. She would move heaven and earth to test him, needing to see that cold rejection in his eyes before she could be satisfied. Before coming here tonight, I had been so excited. I thought that since it was my birthday, Claire’s dinner invitation was a surprise party. Turns out, she’d just found another online trick to test her boyfriend, and I was the sacrificial lamb yet again. 2 Seeing my stunned silence, a flicker of triumph danced in Claire’s eyes. She leaned against Julian, her voice a casual, airy purr. "Sienna, sweetie, go ahead and eat. Julian already put it on your plate. I don't mind." She said she didn't mind, but her eyes were glued to my chopsticks, terrified I might actually take a bite. The comments scrolling past my eyes were furious. [Look at her pretending. Her eyes are practically burning a hole in that plate. I'd love to see her keep smiling if our girl actually eats it.] [Sienna, baby, let's be brave. Can we please stop being her free pawn?] [Eat it! Eat it all! Shovel it in right in front of him! Our girl needs to piss this pampered princess off for good!] I looked at Claire’s innocent, doll-like face, then thought of the scholarship she’d stolen from me, of all the times she’d played me like a fool. My grip on my chopsticks tightened. She loves testing Julian's feelings for her, doesn't she? She loves testing to see if I have any designs on her boyfriend, right? Fine. I’ll help her out. Snapping back to the present, I deliberately picked up the piece of asparagus he had placed on my plate. I covered my mouth with one hand, my voice a breath of feigned surprise. "Oh, sweetie, how did Julian know asparagus is my absolute favorite? You must have told him. You're the best, Claire." With that, I turned to Julian and gave him a brilliant smile. "Well, in that case, I won't be shy. Thank you, Julian." 3 The effect was instantaneous. The smile froze on Claire's lips. I had just made up the asparagus thing, but she bought it completely, believing Julian had ordered it specifically for me. Her lips thinned into a pale line, and her fingers dug into his shoulder, knuckles white. After all these years, I knew that look. It was the quiet simmering of rage. After finishing the bite, I turned to her with deliberate concern. "Honey, are you feeling alright? You look so pale. Should we get you to a doctor?" Her expression flickered through a storm of emotions. She was seething but couldn't show it, forced to swallow her anger and maintain her magnanimous facade. "No, I'm fine, Sienna. If you like it, have more," she said, her voice tight. "My hands were just full a second ago, that's why I asked him to help. Julian is always so thoughtful, looking out for my friends and me. Don't get the wrong idea, though." The ghostly comments were rolling their eyes so hard they could have powered a generator, repeating that last phrase: Don't get the wrong idea, though. [YES! This is what I'm talking about! Sienna should have been calling her out like this from the start!] [That two-faced little princess. Weren't you the one who just told her to eat it?] [Oh dear, why isn't the little princess smiling anymore? I thought you didn't mind? What happened to that happy face?] [She only ever pulls these petty tricks on people who care about her. If Sienna ever decided to actually fight back, Claire wouldn't stand a chance.] [Look, look! The male lead's expression shifted! I think his opinion of our girl is changing. He used to think her hesitation was a ploy to seduce him, but now that she's being so open and direct, he's the one who's flustered.] Following the comments’ cue, I glanced at Julian. The face that had always been a mask of icy disdain toward me now showed the faintest crack. For years, he had never given me a single pleasant look. After every one of Claire’s tests, he would flash his girlfriend a weary but indulgent smile, then turn to me with a cold warning. "Sienna, whatever your goal is, I suggest you stop. Claire is sensitive. As her friend, you should know where the line is." His words were always blunt, painfully clear. In his eyes, I was nothing more than a manipulative social climber. But faced with Claire's silent, pleading eyes, I had swallowed my pride time and time again. I even lost a promotion I had earned because Vice President Julian was prejudiced against me. That being the case, there’s nothing wrong with me taking back what’s mine, right? 4 I offered a soft smile, ready to rip away Claire’s paper-thin veil of innocence. "Of course not. What else would you want me to think, Claire? I know Julian is a master of boundaries. You're the one who shouldn't overthink things." Claire looked as if she had just swallowed a fly. Julian, finally catching on, realized Claire’s sweet request for him to serve me was just another one of her games. He was already swamped with a new project, and the little time he’d managed to carve out for dinner was being wasted on yet another one of her loyalty tests. He slammed his palm on the table. "That's enough, Claire," he said, his voice dangerously low. "How many times are we going to do this? When is this ridiculous charade going to end?" He rarely got this angry, especially not in front of others. Seeing his thunderous expression, Claire knew she’d gone too far. She grabbed his arm, her voice laced with panic. "Julian, it's not like that! My hands were just… my new manicure… I just couldn't serve her myself. I thought… you're my boyfriend, and she's my best friend. I didn't think either of you would mind." [Right. That fresh manicure is so inconvenient.] [The nerve of her, calling Sienna her 'best friend.' You don't even remember your 'best friend's' birthday.] [Some best friend. Sabotaging her scholarship, hiring someone to do her makeup badly, spreading rumors to make yourself look better?] [Sienna, honey, her boyfriend is the most important thing to her, right? The thing she uses you to test day in and day out? Just take him. Let's see how she keeps up her act then.] [Normally I'm against pitting women against each other, but with a 'friend' this toxic, I fully support Sienna using him to get that promotion and a raise! A true leading lady doesn't avoid men; she steps on them to get to the top.] My gaze shifted from the floating comments back to the tense couple across from me. I had lit the fuse. Mistrust was already creeping in, and a full-blown argument was imminent. My work here was done. It was my birthday, after all. I wasn't about to let someone so toxic ruin it. Grabbing my bag, I stood up, my voice dripping with faux apology. "I'm so sorry to cut this short. My colleagues are throwing me a small birthday celebration, so I should get going. I'll leave you two lovebirds to it." Claire's eyes went wide with theatrical shock. She grabbed my arm, feigning a desperate apology, insisting she hadn't forgotten on purpose. As if. A self-absorbed person like her had never remembered my birthday once. I gently pried her fingers off my arm. "It's okay. No one's ever really remembered my birthday, so I'm used to it. If my colleagues hadn't insisted, I wouldn't even be celebrating. My birthday isn't important. Don't feel bad. You two enjoy your evening." My passive-aggressive performance left her speechless, her face paling. Julian’s brow furrowed, his grip tightening on his water glass. I knew my little sob story would work on a man like him, a wealthy scion raised on etiquette and propriety. He would feel a pang of guilt for ruining my birthday. Playing the victim, acting fragile? A girl who grew up in the system like me learns that from birth. Of course, the performance had to be complete. The moment I was outside, I called a few colleagues and invited them out for a drink at a nearby bar. 5 We were in the middle of our celebration when a familiar face appeared. I knew he would come. He'd show up, pay the bill, and express his apologies for the evening's fiasco. My colleagues were surprised to see our Vice President. "Mr. Thorne? What are you doing here?" Julian was the picture of casual composure. "I was in the booth next door and saw you all. Just wanted to say hello." He glanced at me, then at the small cake on our table. "Is it someone's birthday tonight? Well, have a great time. Put everything on my tab." My colleagues, seeing nothing amiss, erupted in cheers. "You're the man, Mr. Thorne!" After he left, the comments went wild. [LMAO, the little princess couldn't help herself. She and Julian had a massive fight.] [She's actually insane. She asks her boyfriend to serve her friend, then screams at him for serving her friend. What's next, demanding he personally feed her?] [She told him to go find Sienna, and this stubborn guy actually did it. Please, next time just tell him to go marry Sienna. Please and thank you.] [Rich boys have always had a soft spot for the damsel in distress. The only reason he disliked Sienna before was because of the princess's games. Now he just feels sorry for her.] [Regardless, he's going to be a huge asset to Sienna's career. I hope she doesn't let some misplaced sense of morality get in the way of this golden opportunity to leap up the social ladder.] I lingered in the shadows of the bar, a small smile playing on my lips. 6 After everyone had their fill of fun, they began catching cabs home. I saw the last of my colleagues off and was about to hail a ride myself when a car pulled up in front of me. A familiar sports car. The window rolled down to reveal a familiar face. Julian looked at me, his tone leaving no room for argument. "It's late. It'll be hard to get a cab. I'll take you." I took a deliberate step back, creating distance. "No, thank you. Given our… situation, it could be easily misunderstood." The unspoken meaning hung in the air: Claire would lose her mind. His jaw tightened, his sharp gaze faltering for a second. "There's nothing to misunderstand," he said coolly. "Get in. I can't park here." A car behind him honked. I had no choice but to open the passenger door and slide in. As I reached for the seatbelt, I stopped. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, my voice filled with apology. "I think I'm in Claire's special seat. Could you pull over up ahead? I should probably sit in the back." [Hah! Sienna knows exactly how to pour gasoline on a fire.] [Julian was probably starting to cool off, and now she's reminded him of all of Claire's drama.] Julian didn't even look at me, his face an emotionless mask as he dismissed my suggestion. "It's a seat. It's meant to be sat in. Nothing special about it." The rest of the drive was silent. When we arrived at my apartment building, I opened the door to get out, but he suddenly called my name. His dark eyes met mine. He hesitated for a moment before his lips parted. "I'm sorry. Claire was out of line tonight. I apologize on her behalf." An apology from him was a rare thing indeed. "It's fine," I said. "She probably feels insecure. That's why she's always testing you. I understand." He didn't respond, clearly not agreeing with my assessment that he was the source of her insecurity. Then, he raised a hand, holding out a small, elegant gift box. "Happy birthday. Consider it compensation for a ruined evening. If you don't want it, feel free to throw it away." Before I could react, the car sped off into the night. The comments flared up, afraid I might actually toss it. [Sienna, baby, we can pretend to be above it all, but don't you dare throw that gift away! It's worth a fortune!] [I have to admit, for a guy born with a silver spoon, he has impeccable taste. Those earrings are perfect for you.] [You know, your other earring is missing. It's a sign. Put the new ones on!] [Wait, did her old earring fall off in his car? Oh, when the little princess finds that, she is going to have a full-blown meltdown.] [I can't wait for tomorrow. The princess is going to block him from going to a crucial meeting with a major partner, pushing him away for good and accidentally getting our girl a promotion in the process. This is going to be epic.] I looked down at the gift box in my hands and untied the silk ribbon. Inside, nestled on a bed of velvet, was a pair of diamond earrings. They glittered brilliantly under the streetlights. So this is what real diamonds looked like. Suddenly, I wanted them. I took off my remaining old earring and put the new ones on.
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