At the start of our junior year, my best friend Troy and I both ran for Vice President of the Student Government Association.

Before the ballots were cast, Troy proposed a wager: whoever lost had to put on a clown costume and run eight humiliating laps around the athletic track.

When the final tally was announced, I won by ten votes. A heartbeat later, my girlfriend, Kendall—the SGA President—took the stage.

Without a word of warning, she hooked her laptop to the auditorium's main projector.

The massive screen lit up with photos of me from a night months ago at a local club, being cornered and groped by an older patron in a VIP booth.

Flashing right beside them were a dozen intimate, bedroom photos of me sleeping halfundressed.

Kendall stood at the podium, her voice ringing cold and clear through the speakers: "A man with a compromised moral compass, who sells his dignity for fast cash, has no place serving this student body." The auditorium erupted into hushed jeers and disgusted murmurs.

Hundreds of eyes bored into me, treating me like toxic waste. On the spot, my victory was revoked, and I was expelled from the student council.

Staring at the familiar background of the bedroom photos, my hands trembled violently. I cut Kendall off in the backstage hallway, my voice cracking: "Why are you lying?

Those private photos... you took them when—" She stepped in close, curling her lips into a calm, patronizing smile, and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Jesse, babe, it doesn't matter who took them." "You know how sensitive Troy is.

He cries if the wind messes up his hair.

If he actually had to wear that hideous clown suit, he’d be sobbing for a week straight." "Besides, you getting harassed at that club and us sleeping together are both facts.

I just connected the dots.

Be a good boy, go run your laps, and I’ll take you out for a nice steak dinner afterward." I watched in silence as she turned around, exchanged a bright highfive with Troy, and began chattering about where they should go to celebrate his 'uncontested' promotion.

I wiped the cold sweat from my face, pulled out my phone, and dialed a number I had kept buried for months. "Mom... I’ve made up my mind.

I’m coming to London." … Someone dragged an old, grimy clown suit out of the SGA storage closet and tossed it at my feet. It was damp, smeared with yellowish, oily stains.

The guy who threw it smirked down at me. "Sorry about that, Jesse. Spilled my instant ramen on it earlier.

Don’t be picky." "Though, from what we just saw on the big screen, rich sugar daddies probably pour expensive champagne all over you anyway.

You’re used to being covered in filth, right?" "Of course, if you'd rather run the track naked, none of us will complain.

Let the whole campus admire the design department's fallen pretty boy." The rank stench of stale noodle broth mingled with their leering gazes, pressing against my ribs until I could barely breathe.

The truth was, that night at the club, Kendall had walked in just in time. She called security, intervened, and nothing actually happened.

But I had been terrified of the stigma, terrified people would talk. She had held me in her arms, swearing she would take the secret to her grave.

Now, she was the very person hammering the nails into my coffin, branding me a cheap hustler for the entire university to sneer at.

When I finished changing in the locker room, Kendall was leaning against the doorway. "Don't worry," she said gently. "I guarded the door so no one would peek." "I also told the guys not to spread the photos outside our department." Her voice was full of manufactured tenderness, yet it sent an icy shiver down my spine.

I looked straight into her eyes. "So that night at the hotel... when you called crying, claiming someone spiked your drink at a sponsor mixer... that was all a lie?

You just wanted to get me into bed, wait until I fell asleep, and take those pictures so Troy wouldn't lose the election?" In the five years we had secretly dated, we had never crossed that line.

I wanted to wait until graduation. But a few nights ago, she had begged me, trembling and helpless, asking me to hold her. My heart softened.

I never imagined it was a calculated ambush.

Before Kendall could answer, Troy appeared from around the corner, his eyes already brimming with tears. "Jesse, please don't blame Kendall.

She only did it because she knew I couldn't handle the embarrassment." "How about this? Take off the suit and give it to me. I'll run the laps.

I don't care if people laugh at me..." Kendall frowned, immediately catching Troy's arm to hold him back. "Stop it, Troy. You have sensitive skin and you hate looking messy.

You think you could survive ten minutes in that dirty thing?" "Besides, Jesse’s stamina is ten times better than yours.

Just let him do it." She turned toward me, her gaze hardening with annoyance. "Jesse, stop being so petty. They're just a few pictures.

As long as I know you're clean, what does it matter?" "Not everyone grew up in a foster home like you. Troy's parents and relatives all know he was running for office.

If he loses, where is he supposed to hide his face?" My chest tightened as if squeezed in a vice. The pain was sharp, suffocating.

I never knew that growing up without a family was supposed to be my original sin. September in the city was sweltering.

By the sixth lap around the track, my vision blurred with dark spots, my legs gave out, and I slammed hard onto the rubber turf.

Behind me, Kendall’s anxious voice rang out: "Are you okay?" I instinctively turned my head, hoping against hope—only to freeze. She wasn't looking at me.

She was standing on the sidelines, holding an iced drink for Troy with one hand while gently rubbing his back with the other.

Her expression was a mix of helpless adoration and soft indulgence. "Drink slowly, silly. Nobody's chasing you. See? You choked." "Only two more sips.

Your stomach is delicate; too much ice will give you cramps." She didn't glance in my direction once.

A group of freshmen passing by from orientation recognized Kendall and squeaked with excitement. "President Kendall! Is this handsome guy your boyfriend?

Wow, you two look so good together! Couple goals forever!" Other bystanders chimed in with teasing laughs: "Come on, you two have been feeding us couple vibes for three years!

When are you making it official?" "Confess already! You're paying for latenight snacks tonight!" I watched Kendall and Troy exchange a private, blushing smile.

Neither of them offered a single word of denial. The dry, burning heat in my throat tore down into my chest.

After that night in the hotel, I had asked Kendall if we could finally take our relationship public. She had frowned and pushed me away: "Jesse, we’re both in student leadership.

We have to avoid rumors of favoritism. Let’s wait until after graduation." It wasn't about avoiding rumors. She simply wanted the public spotlight reserved for someone else.

Silently, I pulled out my phone and tapped the chat pinned at the top: [Mom, I’ve made up my mind. I’m coming to the UK to study.] Two months ago, my biological mother found me.

She was a prominent businesswoman based in London and had been trying to bring me over to finish my degree.

I had repeatedly declined because I couldn't bear to leave Kendall, and I hadn't even found the right moment to tell her. Now, there was no need.

I dragged my battered body through the remaining two laps. I wanted nothing more than to crawl back to my dorm and collapse.

But Kendall grabbed my arm, insisting that everyone was heading to a bistro to celebrate Troy's appointment, and that I had to come.

My head was pounding, my stomach was twisting in knots, and I was no longer a member of the SGA. I refused.

Kendall’s brow furrowed in sharp irritation. "Troy considers you a brother, which is why he invited you. Do you really have to ruin his night by playing sick?

If you don't go, he'll think you hate him." "Besides, the guys were just joking around earlier. Don't take everything so personally." "Be a graceful loser, Jesse.

Don't make people think you're bitter. Go change and don't keep everyone waiting." In the end, she dragged me along.

At the restaurant, after the main courses were served, someone nudged Kendall with an exaggerated wink. "Kendall, didn't you prepare a special promotion gift for Troy?

Hurry up and show us!" Kendall raised an eyebrow, reached into her bag, and brought out a velvet box. Inside rested a pair of exquisite, custom diamond cufflinks.

Troy gasped, covering his mouth in theatrical shock, while the rest of the table erupted into screams. "Holy shit! Aren't those from the private designer showcase last week?

Those cost at least fifty grand!" "No wonder Kendall drained her car fund and sold that luxury bracelet she just bought.

Troy, you really have her wrapped around your finger!" I froze, my gaze dropping instinctively to Kendall's bare wrist. It was empty.

Last year, Kendall fell in love with a limitededition designer bracelet. Her family was comfortable, but not wealthy enough to drop ten thousand dollars on a whim.

I took three parttime jobs, pulled sleepless nights doing freelance 3D jewelry renderings, and dipped into the allowance my mother had sent me.

I finally bought it for her birthday three weeks ago. She had wrapped her arms around my neck, crying happy tears, promising she would treasure it until she was eighty.

And now, she had pawned it off to buy Troy diamond cufflinks. A wave of violent nausea surged up my esophagus. I shoved my chair back.

The metal legs screeched against the floor, drawing shocked stares from the entire table. Ignoring them, I sprinted to the restroom and dryheaved over the sink.

When I finally walked out, Kendall was waiting by the corridor, her face thunderous. "Jesse, how long are you going to keep throwing this tantrum?" "Do you know how awkward you just made it for Troy?

He thinks you're still furious with him.

His eyes are red." "Get back in there and apologize to him." A dry, bitter laugh escaped my throat. "You sold the gift I broke my back to buy you, just to buy jewelry for another guy.

And you expect me not to be angry?" "Kendall, do you even remember what today is?

It's our fiveyear anniversary." Kendall paused for a fraction of a second, but her scowl only deepened. "Can you stop being unreasonable?

Who said I forgot?" She shoved a thick manila folder against my chest. "Aren't you planning to go into highend jewelry design after graduation?" "Here.

I snuck highres photos of every piece at that private showcase for you.

That's enough reference material to keep you busy for a year." Looking at the cheap photocopies in my hand, I smiled humorlessly. "So Troy gets fiftythousanddollar diamond cufflinks, and I get a stack of candid photos you snapped on your phone?" "Kendall... which one of us is actually your boyfriend?" A flicker of guilt flashed across her face, instantly replaced by sharp resentment. "Why do you always have to bring this up?" "We can celebrate an anniversary any year.

Today is a onceinalifetime milestone for Troy! He’s wanted those cufflinks for months.

You’re his friend and you didn't get him anything, so I stepped up on your behalf!" "It's just an accessory! Must you compete with him over every little thing?

When we start working, I'll buy you something better. All you talk about is money, Jesse.

We haven't even graduated yet—stop being so materialistic!" I stood rooted to the spot, watching her storm away in righteous anger. She truly believed this was about the cufflinks.

When I walked back toward the private dining room, the door was cracked open. Inside, they were playing spin the bottle.

The bottle pointed at Troy: "Kiss a person of the opposite sex for three minutes, or down a full glass of whiskey." Troy caught sight of my shadow near the door and put on a hesitant, pained look. "Oh man... my stomach really hurts tonight... but I guess I'll just drink the whiskey." As his hand reached for the glass, Kendall snatched it away. "You're already sick and you want to drink hard liquor?

Are you trying to kill yourself?" Before Troy could respond, Kendall cupped the back of his neck, pulled him down, and locked her lips onto his.

Through the gap in the door, Troy’s gaze shifted to me. There was no warmth, no gentleness in his eyes. Only the cold, triumphant smirk of a victor. I couldn't watch another second.

I turned and stumbled out into the humid night. The moment I cleared the restaurant doors, a piercing cramp tore through my abdomen, and the world spun violently.

Darkness swallowed my peripheral vision, and I collapsed onto the concrete pavement. When I opened my eyes again, the sterile smell of antiseptic filled my nose.

An IV line was taped to the back of my hand. A nurse bustling around the bed scolded me gently: "What were you thinking, kid?

Strenuous exercise on an empty stomach?" "It’s blazing hot outside. You had severe heat exhaustion and dehydration.

You threw up all over your clothes—the orderly had to take your pants to be washed.

Call your family and have them bring you a clean pair." My bladder was aching from the saline drip, but underneath the thin hospital blanket, I was wearing only boxers.

I couldn't get out of bed, let alone walk down the hall to the restroom. The restaurant wasn't far. I pulled out my phone and dialed Kendall. She rejected the first nine calls.

On the tenth, she finally picked up, her tone dripping with venom. "Jesse, are you done with your little performance?" I swallowed my humiliation, whispering softly, "Kendall...

I passed out from heatstroke. I’m at the clinic near campus. Could you please bring me a pair of sweatpants?

Any cheap pair will do..." "Jesse, have you lost your mind?" she snapped, cutting me off. "Troy is finally having a good time, and you just can't stand seeing him happy, can you?

I don't have the time or the patience for your pathetic guilt trips." "Click." The line went dead, leaving only the hollow dial tone.

In the end, it was my academic advisor, Professor Hughes, who saw my desperate text, brought a pair of his own gym pants, and stayed by my hospital bed through the night.

The next morning, as he walked me out of the clinic, he looked at me with deep concern. "Jesse, are you completely sure about withdrawing from the university?" I looked down at my phone.

Kendall hadn't called back. Not a single message. Instead, a mutual friend had posted an Instagram story an hour ago: [Huge congrats to the golden couple!

Headed to the bridal suite tonight~] The photo showed Kendall supporting a slightly tipsy Troy into a boutique hotel lobby.

Troy had replied with blushing and cryinglaughing emojis. Kendall had commented: [Stop teasing, delete this.

You know how shy Troy is.] She didn't deny a single word of the caption. I stared at that comment for a long time.

Then, I locked the screen, turned to Professor Hughes, and offered a faint, tired smile. "Yes, Professor Hughes.

I’m completely sure." I followed him to the administration building, signed the withdrawal paperwork, and headed back to my dorm to pack.

When I reached my floor, all my personal belongings—clothes, textbooks, design sketches—were piled in the hallway like garbage.

My mattress was dragged out, soaked in pungent, chemical disinfectant.

I frowned, looking at my three roommates standing in the doorway. "What is the meaning of this?" The room leader kicked a chair aside, pointing a finger straight at my face. "You still have the nerve to ask?

Your best buddy Troy told us everything! You've been sleeping around for cash, and you spent last night in the clinic because you caught some filthy disease!

How dare you come back here and contaminate our room?" "We're not living with a biohazard.

Take your trash and get the hell out, or we’re reporting you to housing!" I stood paralyzed, my mind struggling to process the assault of words.

Trevor, the one roommate who had always been decent to me, pulled me aside into the stairwell and whispered, "Jesse, early this morning, Troy posted some... graphic, compromising photos of you in the thousandperson departmental GroupMe." "He unsent them quickly, but hundreds of people saw.

Everyone went crazy asking questions. Look, you just need to see it for yourself." I opened the muted department chat.

The messages made the blood drain from my face. [Damn, didn't know Jesse had that kind of body.

Must have a lot of sugar daddies.] [Someone saw him getting picked up from the clinic by Professor Hughes this morning. He wasn't even wearing his own pants.

Did he get caught in a vice raid? Went so hard he ended up in urgent care?] [Gross. That's disgusting. What if he has an STD?

Sending thoughts and prayers to his roommates.] Above those messages was Troy’s hypocritical clarification: [Guys, please!

It was an accidental upload, pretend you didn't see anything!] [Jesse doesn't have parents, so it hasn't been easy for him to pay tuition. As for whether he's sick...

I can't violate his medical privacy.

Just please don't discriminate against him, but protect yourselves and disinfect common areas!] Those unsent photos were the exact ones Kendall had projected onto the auditorium screen.

My hands shook violently. Kendall had forwarded those photos to Troy.

This was her promise that "no one would spread them." When I kicked open the door to the SGA office, Troy was sitting at the desk, gossiping with another student. "...Yeah, the rumors are true," Troy was saying with a heavy sigh. "I only stayed friends with him out of pity.

I heard his real mother was a streetwalker who died of an infection, which is why his dad dumped him at an orphanage.

Like mother, like son, I guess." Rage detonated behind my eyes. "Shut your mouth! Don't you dare talk about my mother!" I lunged forward, my fist raised.

Before I could land a blow, a violent force shoved me backward. I stumbled, losing my balance, and slammed hard into the sharp corner of a mahogany desk.

Kendall stood over me, her eyes ablaze with fury. "Jesse! Have you completely lost your mind?!" A warm, sticky liquid trickled down my forehead, blurring my left eye in crimson.

Kendall caught sight of the blood and visibly panicked, reaching out to help me. "Jesse... are you okay?

I didn't mean to—" Troy immediately grabbed her arm, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Kendall, don't!

I went to his dorm this morning just to apologize because I felt terrible about yesterday.

I even tried to clear his name in the group chat!" "I didn't expect him to steal the diamond cufflinks you gave me.

I called him here privately to ask for them back without making a scene, but he tried to attack me..." Troy shot a subtle glance at the other student in the room.

The student immediately backed him up. "Yeah! I saw it with my own eyes!

Jesse stole the cufflinks!" Without asking, the student snatched my backpack from the floor and dumped its contents onto the desk.

Tumbling out from the bottom of the bag, gleaming under the fluorescent lights, was the velvet box containing the diamond cufflinks.

I looked at Kendall in sheer disbelief, trying to stem the bleeding on my face. "I didn't steal anything.

He set me up—" "Enough!" Kendall cut me off, her voice thick with profound disappointment. "Jesse, Troy has done nothing but try to protect you, and you repay him with theft and violence?

Are you really that jealous of him?" "An orphan with no upbringing is an orphan after all. Completely shameless.

Apologize to Troy right now!" I stared at her, the woman I had loved for five years. Years ago, when kids mocked me for having no family, I had been consumed by insecurity.

Kendall had cradled my face and whispered: "Jesse, you are the most precious, resilient person I know. You're better than anyone who had an easy life. From now on, I am your family.

I will love you enough for two parents combined." It turned out that the person who knows where your deepest wounds lie is the one who knows exactly where to drive the knife.

I looked at her, my voice dead and hollow. "And what if I don't?" Kendall’s expression hardened.

She turned to the students gathering at the doorway. "Call campus security and the police." "And put an announcement on the campus broadcast: Jesse from the Design Department is a thief." Someone hesitated. "Kendall, are you sure?

A police report and a disciplinary mark will go on his permanent record. It'll ruin his career prospects.

The item's been recovered, maybe we can just—" "No," Kendall declared coldly. "If he has the guts to steal from Troy today, who knows what he'll do tomorrow?

He needs to learn a lesson so he knows his place." Within an hour, the entire university knew I was branded a thief.

Surrounded by mocking whispers and pointing fingers, I was escorted into the back of a police cruiser.

Kendall ran up to the car window, keeping her voice low. "Jesse, Troy is softhearted.

He agreed not to press felony charges, but because of the item's value, you'll need to spend thirty days in holding before bail can be processed." "Use this time to reflect on what you've done.

I'm doing this for your own good.

Don't worry about a criminal record—after we graduate, I'll take care of you." Looking at her unwavering blind faith in Troy, without a shred of regard for my ruined future, I let out a soft, broken laugh. "Kendall.

We're done." Kendall froze, her lips parting to speak, but the cruiser door slammed shut in her face.

As the car pulled away, an inexplicable, cold void opened in her chest—a sudden, creeping dread that she had just lost something she could never get back.

Inside the cruiser, I turned to the officer sitting beside me. "Officer...

I have timestamped video evidence proving my complete innocence." …… One hour later, I walked out of the precinct, fully cleared of all charges.

I called Professor Hughes, thanking him for finalizing my withdrawal papers and asking him to mail the official transcripts to London once they processed.

With only a single carryon bag, I boarded the international flight. I didn't want to spend another second in this city.

Three days later, Kendall had a free morning and planned to visit me at the detention center. Instead, she ran into Professor Hughes in the administrative hallway.

When she mentioned her destination, Professor Hughes frowned deeply. "You don't need to go.

The police reviewed the footage days ago; Jesse was completely exonerated." "He left the country on a flight to London that very afternoon."