My roommate was a professional "sugarhunter." In the digital underbelly of exclusive forums, she’d cultivated an entire roster of boyfriends—all of them heirs to some tech fortune or real estate empire.

She categorized them like stock options: AList, BList, and CList.

The AListers were the whales; they’d wire her fivefigure sums just for being "sweet." The CListers were the stingy ones, and by the end of every month, she’d conduct a brutal pruning.

It was purge night.

I sat at my desk, paralyzed by the mere thought of a social interaction, while she groaned from her bed. "Ugh, I’m exhausted," she complained, her thumb flying across her screen as she blocked one contact after another. "If you’re broke, don’t pretend to be a trustfund baby.

I don't have time to waste on losers who can’t even cover a shopping spree." I bit my lip, my heart hammering against my ribs.

I raised a trembling hand, my voice barely a whisper. "Sienna... those guys you’re blocking. Are you just... throwing them away?" She glanced up, squinting. "Yeah.

Why?" "Could you... could you give one to me?" 1 I have social anxiety.

Not the "I’m a bit shy at parties" kind, but the "I have a panic attack if the barista looks me in the eye" kind. It had reached a breaking point.

My therapist told me that if I didn't make progress, I’d have to take a medical leave from the university.

But I didn't have the money for the intensive, highend cognitive behavioral programs. "Start small," the doctor had suggested. "Talk to people online.

Maybe even try a lowstakes digital romance. It’s a safe space to practice being yourself." But I was too terrified to even send a "hi" to a stranger on a dating app.

That was why I’d gathered every ounce of courage to speak to Sienna Reed. She looked at me like I’d just grown a second head. "Wait... you actually have a voice?

I thought you were a literal mute, Daisy." The embarrassment burned my throat.

I stared at my shoes. "What, you want to try your hand at the game?" Sienna smirked, her eyes glinting with a predatory sort of amusement. "I guess I could spare one." She swiped through her secondary phone, then stopped. "Here.

This guy. He’s on an encrypted messaging app I don't use much anymore. I’ll give you the login. It’s all yours." A surge of hope flared in my chest.

Maybe she wasn't so bad after all. "Thank... thank you." I reached for the phone, but she pulled it back, her expression hardening. "Don't get ahead of yourself. It’s not a gift.

I spent weeks 'farming' this contact. It’s a premium lead.

Five hundred bucks, and the account is yours for good." 2 "Five hundred?" I stammered, my hand dropping. "Nothing in this world is free, Daisy.

Especially not a billionaire’s son." She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Word on the street is this guy is the heir to the Montgomery estate—old money, private jets, the works.

If you play your cards right, you’ll make that five hundred back in a single 'good morning' text.

You want him or not?" The truth was, Sienna didn't actually know if he was a Montgomery.

The guy had never replied to her messages, never posted on his private feed, and certainly never sent her a cent.

She figured she’d been scammed by whatever broker sold her the contact info. I didn't care about the money, though.

I wasn't looking for a payday; I was looking for a ghost to talk to. I hesitated, then nodded. "Okay." Sienna’s eyes lit up.

She flipped her phone around to show her Venmo QR code. "Smart girl, Daisy Miller.

You won't regret it." After the transfer went through, I logged into the account and changed the recovery info. As I did, I caught Sienna watching me.

She looked... surprised. "I never noticed before," she muttered as I climbed into my bunk bed and pulled the curtains shut. "You’re actually kind of a knockout when you aren't hiding behind that hair." 3 Behind the safety of my bed curtains, the world felt manageable.

I stared at the new profile. The avatar was a minimalist, cold shot of a mountain peak. The name was just "M." How do you even start?

For someone like me, a digital "hello" felt like a leap off a cliff. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and typed: Hi. Are you awake?

I hit send and immediately tossed the phone to the foot of the bed, my heart racing. I waited. And waited. By the time I fell asleep, there was no reply. Honestly? It was a relief.

Talking to a living, breathing person was terrifying. Talking to a silent void? That, I could do. He became my digital diary—a "tree hole" where I could bury my thoughts.

Daisies: [Good morning. They put onions in the breakfast burritos at the dining hall today. Gross.] Daisies: [I saw two squirrels fighting over a crust of bread today.

The smaller one won. It felt like a win for the little guy.] Three months passed. I sent him snippets of my day, photos of the sunset, and my secret fears.

I never expected a reply, so I grew bold. I practiced the flirtatious lines I’d read in novels, testing them out on the silence.

Daisies: [Do you know what my favorite kind of star is?] Daisies: [It’s the one I see when I think of you. Cheesy, right?

I'll stop.] The turning point came when I dropped my phone in the library. The screen shattered, and it took three days to get it repaired.

When I finally logged back in, my breath hitched. There were two messages.

M: [?] (Sent the first night I was gone, at midnight.) M: [Losing patience already?] (Sent the second night.) My stomach did a somersault. He was... alive. He was a real person.

And he had noticed I was gone. Before I could figure out a reply, the phone began to vibrate in my hand.

He was calling. 4 I panicked and hit 'decline' so fast I almost dropped the phone again. Across the room, Sienna narrowed her eyes. "Daisy? Was that your phone?

I haven't heard that thing ring since the semester started." Nobody ever called me. I looked away, my face flushing. "It was... just an alarm." The phone vibrated again.

Sienna stood up, reaching for it. "Let me see. You’ve been acting weird lately." "No!" I pulled back, but she was faster, lunging for the device.

In the scuffle, she knocked over her bowl of spicy ramen.

The red broth splashed everywhere, soaking into the fabric of her creamcolored designer dress. "No!" she shrieked, looking at the stain in horror. "This was two thousand dollars!

Daisy, you clumsy bitch!

You’re paying for this!" I’m not just socially anxious; I’m a "frustration crier." My throat tightened, and my voice cracked with tears. "You... you tried to grab it.

It’s not my fault." "The hell it isn't! If you’d just given me the phone, this wouldn't have happened!" Our other roommate, Mia, finally snapped. "Sienna, shut up.

You were harassing her. Why would she show you her private messages?" Lexi chimed in from her desk. "Exactly. We saw it. You lunged at her.

Don't try to bully her into paying for your vanity." Sienna fumed, realizing she was outnumbered. She grabbed her robe and stomped toward the bathroom. "Fine!

You're all just jealous. I'm telling the RA about this!" Once she was gone, I looked at Mia and Lexi, my eyes wet. "Thank you." "Don't sweat it, Daisy.

She’s been a nightmare lately," Mia said. I climbed back into my bed, trembling. I looked at my phone and realized my worst nightmare had come true.

In the struggle, I hadn't declined the second call.

I had accidentally hit 'accept.' "Done fighting yet?" a voice asked. 5 It was a deep, cool baritone that sounded like expensive bourbon and late nights. I hung up immediately.

M: [What? Did you lose the fight? Are you crying now?] I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Daisies: [No. I’m just... you scared me.] M: [My bad.

I shouldn't have called out of the blue.] M: [Busy the last three days?] He actually cared. Daisies: [No, my phone broke.

I just got it back today.] M: [Why didn't you just buy a new one?] Must be nice to be that rich.

Daisies: [The old one still works.] There was a fiveminute silence while he apparently processed the concept of "repairing" things. Then: M: [Transfer: $10,000.

Go get a new phone.] The amount of zeros made me dizzy. My hands shook. Daisies: [No, no! I can't take this. Truly, I’m fine.] M: [Don't overthink it.

Your daily updates are... entertaining. I got used to them. I don't like it when my routine is interrupted.] M: [Buy the phone. Keep the updates coming.] I was stunned.

Daisies: [Oh. Okay.] M: [Transfer: $10,000. For the dress. Buy a twentythousanddollar one. Tell your roommate to stay in her lane.] This was insane. Was I being groomed?

Was this some elaborate scam? But I had nothing to steal. Daisies: [Why are you doing this?] M: [You have a nice voice. I heard a bit of it before you hung up.

I have chronic insomnia. If you’re willing to read me a story every night until I fall asleep, I’ll put you on a $15,000 monthly retainer. Think of it as a job.] My heart thudded.

This wasn't just a way to pay for school; it was a way to practice speaking. To a stranger who couldn't see me. Daisies: [Okay. Deal.]