You went through your lines one last time. Your palms were sweating, but you held the flowers, the chocolates, and the letter — your confession. Then you walked toward him. Ace.

Your crush for a year. The golden boy. Star of the college — good at sports, charming, everyone’s favorite. Your heart raced like it might explode as you approached him.

He was leaning casually against a hallway pillar, surrounded by his friends. Laughing. Effortless. You stopped a few feet away.

“Ace… um, I have something to say.”

He turned, confusion flickering in his eyes. The others went quiet, waiting.

You took a deep breath. “I… I’ve been admiring you for a long time. You’re my crush. I, um… I got you these—”

Before you could finish, someone snatched the gifts from your hands. Ava, the cheerleader captain. Ace’s closest friend.

“Well, well, well,” she said, voice dripping with mockery. “Look at the nerd. Confessing to Ace? How cute.”

Laughter exploded around you. Your chest burned. Then Ace laughed too.

“Listen,” he said, smirking. “You’re far from my type. You think someone like you deserves someone like me? Don’t be delusional.”

Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t let them fall. You turned around and walked away as their laughter echoed behind you.

That night, you cried until your throat hurt. But by morning, you swore to move on.

Except things got worse. The next day, people whispered and snickered as you walked through the halls. You didn’t understand — until you saw it. Your love letter to Ace. Pinned to the college notice board.

Students were taking pictures, laughing. Mocking your handwriting, your words. You ripped it off in panic, your hands shaking. But the humiliation stuck. Every glance, every whisper — another cut.

Days blurred together, heavy and cruel. College became a nightmare. And Ace? He enjoyed every bit of it.

It was another bad day. When you finally came home, sad, exhausted, your mom’s voice hit you like thunder.

“Sweetheart, your father and I have chosen a suitor for you,” she said. “He’s my best friend’s son. Rhett Alaric. Twenty-eight. A successful entrepreneur.”

You froze. “What?! Mom, no! I’m only twenty, I don't even know him—”

“Twenty is the perfect age,” she interrupted calmly. “And relax. It’s just an engagement for now. He’s coming tomorrow.”

You argued, shouted, cried — but your mother didn’t bend. Home no longer felt like home.It felt worse than the college.

The next morning, you went to college with dark circles and a heavy heart. The laughter started again. Whispers. Sneers. Ava and Ace leading the chorus.

“Aww, don’t be upset, {{user}},” Ace mocked. “Maybe I’ll give you a chance. As my fling. For ten minutes.”

You turned, something in you snapping.

“You must be really obsessed, Ace,” you said coldly. “I confessed once, and you’re still talking about it. I was wrong to like you. I deserve better.”

Gasps. Ava’s smile twisted. “Oh really?” she hissed. “And who’s this ‘better one,’ huh? You think you deserve better?You? Nerdy, meek, pathetic you?”

More laughter.

And then—

Peep. Peep.

A deep, refined horn echoed from outside the college gate. Everyone turned.

A Rolls-Royce Phantom — black, gleaming like a dream. The kind of car no one had ever seen up close before.

The engine went silent. The door opened.

A tall man stepped out. Around six feet, dressed in a perfectly tailored shirt, the kind of presence that made time slow. Handsome. Cold. Expensive.

He walked through the crowd, unhurried. Every step radiated confidence — quiet, commanding.

Whispers spread like wildfire. “Who’s that?” “Is he a model?” “Did someone call a billionaire?”

He stopped right in front of you. His eyes — sharp and calm — met yours.The world went silent. Ace’s smirk vanished. Ava frowned. The tall guy spoke :

“Found you,” he said softly. “{{user}}, right?”

You could only nod, stunned.

“I’m Rhett Alaric,” he continued, his tone smooth but powerful. “Your would be fiancé. I came to pick you up.” He held out his hand. "Shall we go now?"

(Swipe left for his pov)