Chapter 1: Viral Heartbreak

April 3, 10:07

Me: [We’ve known each other forever. I’ve always wanted to ask—how do you actually feel about me?]

Ten minutes later

Me: [Wanna hop on a game?]

Carter: [Logging in.]

April 8, 3:24 PM

Me: [Did you watch that video I sent you?]

Carter: [Yeah, I saw it.]

Me: [I want to start dating someone.]

Carter: [Then go for it.]

Me: [How about dating me?]

Ten minutes later

Me: [Game?]

Carter: [Logging in.]

May 2, 7:11 PM

Me: [Honestly, I’ve liked you for a long time. You’re single too, so what if we tried being together?]

Ten minutes later

Me: [Wanna play a game?]

Carter: [Logging in.]

01.

My phone got fixed yesterday. Today, my chat history was leaked.

Waking up to the chaos felt like starring in my own personal horror movie. My phone buzzed nonstop—notifications, memes, screenshots, even a TikTok edit of my cringiest confessions set to a trending breakup song. The [Top Joker Chat Logs] was pinned on our college forum, and for five brutal hours I just doom-scrolled, watching upvotes and comments explode every time I blinked.

The comments were wild:

[He turned down your confession, but he definitely respects your gaming skills.]

[Say no more—does anyone else want to game with her? I do.]

[One bold move and I’d give up for life. She’s confessed so many times, and each time she gets braver. Teach me your ways!]

[Did you all notice? Every time OP asks to game, the other guy replies instantly. He must be glued to the chat box. I’m shipping them.]

[The lovesick one above, drag them out!]

It was a mix of roasting, shipping, and people joking about me being the campus clown. I even spotted a couple of classmates chiming in, which made my stomach twist.

Meanwhile, my Messenger with Carter was still frozen on the last message I’d sent two days ago.

Knowing how fast rumors spread at an American college, I swallowed my pride and messaged him first.

[Hey, can you help me out here? People are freaking out in the comments.]

My thumb hovered, sweating. Carter obviously knew about it—he replied almost immediately: [What kind of clarification do you want?]

My chest tightened—did he really not care, or was he just trying to save face? I took a breath and typed: [Just say we were messing around.]

[Everything you sent me before was just for fun.]

[Is this really a big deal?]

My heart pounded as I waited. About a minute later, he replied: […I’m busy.]

Ever since I’d added Derek to our three-person squad two nights ago, Carter had been acting off. During champ select, he and Derek got into a petty fight over who’d jungle until Derek finally gave up and picked marksman instead.

It was like a silent battle of egos. In game, Derek grabbed a double kill, so Carter went and scored a triple. Carter flexed with a quadra kill, Derek one-upped him with a penta. The testosterone in voice chat was so thick you could cut it with a knife. The other team barely got past our second tower before getting completely stomped. Finally, one of our teammates whined: Bro, can you let me get an assist? I’m 0-0-0! Only then did they chill out.

We stomped that match, no sweat.

Afterwards, Carter left the squad and queued solo.

Thinking about how weird he’d been, I messaged him: [That guy’s my childhood friend. He’s got a pretty good national rank, so I thought a three-person squad would help us climb.]

[Still want to play next round?]

[I won’t invite him again.]

He didn’t answer until the next morning: [Who you play with is none of my business.]

His answer was short, but for some reason it hurt way more than if he’d just yelled at me.