Chapter 5 – Turning point
1380 Words
Her thumb hovered over the screen, trembling like every heartbeat carried a warning. Her chest
burned, her palms slick with sweat. The words on the screen glared back at her:
All I wanted was love. And if you call that desperate, then fine—it’s true. I’d rather be desperate
than fake. Although I regret ever loving Luke.
She wanted to scream. Wanted to pull the phone back and hide it forever. But Malik’s presence
behind her was more suffocating than fear itself. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t push. His eyes,
dark and calculating, pinned her to the moment.
“Do it,” he said, voice low, teasing, almost a dare.
Her stomach dropped. “Once I post… everyone will—”
“Everyone already does,” Malik interrupted, smirk curling. “This isn’t about hiding. let your
shame be your weapon.”
Her thumb pressed down. The Post went live. Instantaneously, notifications erupted across her
screen like sparks igniting gasoline. Malik’s eyes gleamed. “Good girl,” he whispered before
leaving, vanishing as if he had never been there, leaving her alone in the aftershock of her own
audacity.
He didn’t stay to see her unravel. He just turned and walked away, leaving her standing there,
phone in hand, the world tilting beneath her.
Her notifications blew up almost instantly — buzz, buzz, buzz — like a swarm of bees. The
screen filled with comments so fast she couldn’t even read them in order. Some called her brave,
others said she was insane, some mocked her with cruel laughter, and a few swore she’d regret
this forever. Her throat tightened, but she didn’t cry. Not this time.
Instead of going back to her dorm, she turned toward the campus library. Her legs felt
mechanical, like she was being pulled there by instinct rather than choice. The library was quiet
— a sacred hush, heavy with the smell of books and whispered secrets — but the air buzzed with
a faint energy. She could feel people staring. She knew what they were whispering about.
She sank into a chair at the far end of the room, staring at the phone that now felt like a live
grenade in her hands. She swiped to open the post.
staring at the phone that now felt like a live grenade in her hands. She swiped to open the post.
The flood of comments hit immediately, brutal, unrelenting:
Wow… I actually feel bad for her. The guy did her dirty.
Embarrassing. Crying online like this… pathetic.
Girl, you’re brave. Takes guts to say it out loud.
LMFAO desperate much??
She deserves better. Luke’s trash anyway.
Her stomach churned. Her fingers shook as she scrolled through the chaos. Every screenshot
shared, every re-tweet, every like felt like a thousand tiny knives. She wanted to bury herself
under the bed, vanish, disappear. Yet somewhere, beneath the nausea and shame, a spark
flickered. A dangerous, thrilling spark: she had done it.
Unable to tear her eyes from the flood of notifications. That’s when a small folded note slid
across the table. Briella blinked, startled, then looked up. Naomi — the sharp-eyed girl from her
literature class — sat a few seats away, her face unreadable.
Briella hesitated before opening the note.
“Courage looks good on you. Don’t let them break you.”
Something in Briella’s chest loosened. Not everyone was laughing. She wasn’t completely alone
in this. She met Naomi’s gaze, but the girl only nodded once before returning to her book. The
gesture was small but grounding, like someone had just handed her an anchor in the middle of a
storm.
Still, reality hit when her stomach growled loudly enough for the boy across the table to glance
up. Briella sighed and shoved her phone in her pocket. She had bigger problems than the internet
right now.
By the time she reached her dorm and opened her fridge, empty shelves stared back at her.
“s**t,” she muttered under her breath. “Amidst all this stupid drama, I forgot I actually need to
eat.”
Her hunger was now a dull ache. She threw on a hoodie, ran her fingers through her hair, and
booked an Uber. The driver didn’t ask questions, didn’t look at her twice. For once, she was
grateful for the silence.
The city mall was buzzing with weekend life — kids dragging parents toward the toy store,
couples holding hands, friends taking mirror selfies near the escalator. Briella grabbed a cart and
went through the aisles, tossing in cereal, milk, fruit, snacks, a new bottle of perfume, and a pack
of ramen. By the time she reached the checkout, the cart was full.
“Wow,” she thought as she swiped her card. “I bought way too much. But whatever — at least I
won’t starve.”
On impulse, she ordered a pizza and a Diet Coke to be delivered to her dorm. Comfort food for a
bruised pride.
Her Uber pulled up outside campus just as the sky turned gold with dusk. She juggled the
shopping bags as she stepped out — tired, sweaty, and utterly done with the day.
That’s when she saw Jade.
Jade was leaning casually against the wall near the dorm entrance, arms crossed, smirk already
loaded like a weapon.
Briella groaned under her breath. She wasn’t in the mood. She adjusted her bags and tried to
walk past, but Jade stepped forward, blocking her path.
“What was that pathetic stunt you pulled earlier?” Jade’s voice dripped with venom. “Posting
like you’re brave when everyone’s laughing at you?”
Briella’s grip on the bags tightened. She was exhausted — too exhausted to shrink away. “Move,
Jade.”
“Oh, look at you,” Jade taunted, circling her like a shark. “Thinking you’re untouchable because
Malik’s paying you attention now. You think you’re special?”
Briella let out a laugh — low and humorless. “You know what’s funny? You spend all this energy
tearing me down, but deep down, you wish you were me.”
Jade’s smirk faltered. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Briella set her bags down, stepped closer until she was just a breath away.
“You’ll always need to break people just to feel whole. That’s sad, Jade. Pathetic, even.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Jade’s jaw clenched, her face flushing red with
fury.
Briella smiled, the first genuine smile of the day, and picked up her bags. “Have fun chasing
shadows.”
She brushed past Jade, leaving her standing there, stunned and fuming.
Inside her dorm, Briella set her groceries down with a sigh. “Peace, pizza, and Diet Coke. That’s
all I want tonight.”
But her phone buzzed. Malik’s name lit up her screen.
She groaned but answered anyway. “What now?”
“Meet me by the fountain.” His tone left no room for argument.
Minutes later, Briella found him leaning against the fountain, the water casting silver ripples of
light over his face. Campus was quieter now, a few students passing by, their voices faint in the
distance. Briella crossed her arms, trying to keep her voice steady.
“What’s next?”
Malik’s smirk was slow, dangerous. He pushed off the fountain, closing the space between them.
“Now, angel,” he said, “we start playing with power.”
He circled her once, slow and deliberate, until she felt caged. Then he tilted her chin up with one
finger, forcing her to meet his eyes.
“They wanted your shame,” he said softly, like it was a secret just for her, “but you turned it into
a weapon. That’s why you need me.”
Briella swallowed hard. For a moment, she couldn’t tell if she felt stronger or trapped. Malik
smiled, like he knew.
He didn’t leave. Instead, he leaned in just enough for his voice to curl around her. “Are you
ready?”
Briella’s brows furrowed. “For what?”
Malik’s grin widened. “For the next move.”
The words sent a chill down her spine. For once, she didn’t argue — she just nodded, pulse
quickening as the night seemed to hold its breath
- Writer
