The Girl Who Humiliated Me, Now Works for Me

Chapter 9

Clarissa could no longer hold back the flood of memory. Five years ago rushed through her mind in relentless waves. She sank to the floor, surrendering to the recollection, letting it punish her.

And then, the most excruciating scene began to unfold in her head...

Five years ago. The ITB campus corridor.

David stood there, trembling, white roses and a love letter clutched in his nervous hands.

Clarissa stared at the flowers and letter, her expression unreadable. Her friends flanked her like a court. The entire hallway fell silent, every eye fixed on the drama about to unfold.

"You?" Clarissa finally broke the silence. "You have feelings for me?"

David nodded, his face deepening to scarlet. "Y-yes... Clarissa, I've been wanting to tell you for so long..."

But before he could finish, Clarissa's laughter erupted. Sharp. Mocking. It echoed down the length of the campus corridor like a war cry.

"HAHAHAHA!" Her laughter was so piercing that students from neighboring classrooms emerged to witness the spectacle. "David, David, David... Are you serious?"

David's face drained of color, white as parchment. The flowers in his hands began to tremble.

"You?" Clarissa continued, her tone growing more vicious as she stepped closer, one deliberate pace at a time. "You have feelings for me? David, maybe you should take a long look in the mirror first."

She approached like a predator, her eyes raking him from head to toe with such contempt that everyone in the corridor felt the chill. Even students who had been laughing moments before fell silent, sensing the cruel energy radiating from Clarissa.

"Those thick glasses that make your eyes look like a fish's," Clarissa pointed at his face with her index finger, as if marking a stain. "That wrinkled shirt that looks like you've been wearing it for years. Those pathetic shoes with the sole peeling off one side."

Each word was a precision strike, a blade finding its mark. David stood frozen, unable to move, unable to defend himself. His gaze fixed on the floor, as if searching for a c***k to disappear into.

"And most importantly," Clarissa continued, raising her voice so everyone could hear, as if delivering a speech from the stage of his destruction, "who do you think I am?"

She turned to face her friends and the gathering crowd of students. "I'm Clarissa Sari! The most popular girl on this campus! I have standards, and my standards are impossibly high!"

Her entourage applauded and laughed. Clarissa felt emboldened, intoxicated by the sensation.

"You?" She spun back to face David. "You're not even worthy of being my friend, let alone my boyfriend. Your dreams are absolutely ridiculous!"

The roses in David's hands began falling, scattering one by one.

White petals scattered across the corridor floor like fragments of shattered hope, trampled underfoot.

"Look around you," Clarissa gestured toward the crowd of watching students, her smile razor-sharp. "Everyone's laughing! Do you know why? Because the idea of you having feelings for me is absurd! Laughable!"

And it was true—the entire corridor filled with mocking laughter. Piercing voices, humiliating whispers, contemptuous stares. David stood alone in the center of that storm of humiliation, statue-still.

"You're the type of guy who..." Clarissa paused, searching for the most devastating words, her cruel smile never wavering. "Who's only good enough to be a study buddy. Maybe an online driver. But a boyfriend? For a girl like me?" She laughed again, the sound cutting to bone. "In your dreams, David!"

The love letter slipped from David's hand, the white paper trampled by passing students, soiling every word he had written with such sincerity.

"Oh, and one more thing," Clarissa moved closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that was still loud enough for those around to hear, a cold threat. "Don't ever, EVER, approach me again.

You're damaging my reputation. A girl like me being approached by... by..." She looked David up and down again, her gaze filled with disgust. "By someone like you."

The most heartbreaking part was David's expression in that moment. Not just disappointed. Not just sad. But completely shattered, like a cup broken into a thousand pieces.

Behind his thick glasses, his eyes welled with tears, but he didn't cry. He didn't scream. He didn't fight back. He simply stood there, alone, in the middle of a crowd that was laughing at him, tears barely contained at the edges of his vision.

Then, with agonizingly slow movements, David bent down. He began collecting the scattered rose petals. The love letter, dirty from being trampled. Each movement was a representation of his dignity being destroyed.

No one helped. Everyone just watched—some still laughing, others beginning to feel uncomfortable witnessing such a pitiful scene, yet no one dared to intervene.

David gathered everything—the ruined flowers, the soiled letter, and the remnants of his courage that lay in pieces. Then he stood, meeting Clarissa's eyes one final time. His gaze was empty, yet held something profound.

Their eyes met.

And in David's eyes, Clarissa saw something that made her uneasy. Not anger. Not hatred. But... a disappointment so deep it reached his soul, one that would haunt Clarissa for years to come.

"I'm sorry," David whispered, his voice barely audible, as if it were a final goodbye. "Sorry for bothering you."

Then he left. Walking slowly away from the corridor, away from the mocking laughter, away from the humiliation that would forever haunt him. His figure grew smaller and disappeared.

"Good riddance!" Clarissa shouted at David's retreating back, a triumphant smile still plastered across her face. "And don't ever come back!"

"Come on, don't think about it," Sarah tapped her shoulder, breaking the strange silence. "Let's go. The drama's over."

And they left, abandoning the corridor that slowly returned to normal. Leaving behind the scattered flower petals still strewn across the floor—silent witnesses to the destruction of an innocent young man's heart.

---

Clarissa covered her face with both hands, her body shaking violently. The memory was too real, too painful, too vivid. She could feel the atmosphere of that corridor again, could hear the mocking laughter she had orchestrated, could see David's broken eyes gazing at her with such profound disappointment.

"Oh God," she wept in the silence of her room, tears streaming down her cheeks. "What have I done..."

For five years, she had convinced herself that what she did was justified. David shouldn't have approached her. She had the right to reject anyone. She had standards.

But tonight, viewing that memory through more mature eyes, Clarissa faced a painful truth.

She hadn't just rejected David. She had humiliated and destroyed him.

She hadn't simply said "no"—she had shamed David publicly, insulted his appearance, belittled his feelings, and made him the laughingstock of the entire campus.

And most cruelly—she had enjoyed it. She had savored the sensation of power, the feeling of superiority, the thrill of being the popular girl who could destroy anyone who dared approach her without permission. An ego that had blinded her completely.

"Forgive me," she whispered to David's photo still open in her lap, her voice breaking. "Forgive me, David. I didn't know... I didn't realize how cruel I was..."

But apologies to a photograph wouldn't change anything. The damage was done. David—who had become William—had transformed into a cold, controlling man. A man who would never forgive the humiliation of five years ago. He was a mirror of who Clarissa used to be, a mirror now reflecting her cruelty back at her.

Clarissa gazed at David's innocent face in the photo one last time, then slowly closed the album, as if sealing that bitter memory back into endless darkness.

Now she understood why David was so cold to her. Why every word from his mouth felt like a knife thrust. Why every look he gave her was filled with calculation and revenge.

Because she deserved it.

She deserved to experience what it felt like to be insulted, belittled, and treated like garbage. Exactly as she had treated David.

But understanding this didn't lessen her pain. Instead, it tortured her more, because now she knew—David's game had only just begun. And it would be more devastating than she could imagine.

Would she be able to endure it?

The night grew later, but Clarissa remained awake. Eyes closed, but sleep wouldn't come.

All that remained were visions of David's tear-filled eyes, and his barely audible whisper.

Now, five years later, it was Clarissa who was apologizing.

But it was far too late.