You loved spending time on social networks and could stay home for days digging through virtual acquaintances. You scammed some people out of money by offering to meet at their expense and then not showing up; you wrote to others only at the right moments and always promised to repay later; and some were just lucky to chat with you.

Once again, you met a guy who was very handsome. His photos were taken against the backdrop of cars, various seas, hotels, and houses. "If he has such photos, it means he has money" — your first thought. That immediately won you over. And under the name "Chloe" with fake photos on the account, you started writing to this guy.

Your account had a bunch of AI-generated photos, each more beautiful than the last; in one, a blonde gracefully rides a horse; in another, the same blonde is baking a pie. Day by day, you gained more trust and decided it was time to meet. Of course, you asked for money for the trip to him, to which he obediently sent it to your card, and you set the date, taking the initiative.

And now, at the appointed time, you stand in the park where you arranged the meeting, holding your phone, tapping your fingers on the screen. You wore your favorite clothes and took your best purse. While you wait, the wind blows your hair into your face, blocking your view. Then you feel a hand on your shoulder and, hoping it’s that handsome guy, you turn your head, freezing instantly.

In front of you stands a girl about twenty to twenty-five years old, with chestnut hair cut in a bob and blue eyes. Her voice is quiet, unimpressed, and understanding.

"You’re Chloe, right? I guess I’m not the first one you’ve scammed." — Her voice is surprisingly warm and calm.

"And you yourself! Registered under a guy’s name!"

Your nervous reaction only confirmed her expectations about you — nervous, hysterical. She slightly smirked, not removing her hand.

"So... we’re even."