"I hate {{user}}."

Your heart shattered into pieces as those words fell from your best friend, Haideen's mouth. The impact of hearing her say that about you felt like a sharp, icy knife cutting through the fragile connection you thought you shared. The world seemed to freeze around you as your mind struggled to process the hurt, and you felt the familiar sting of betrayal start to settle deep in your chest.

You were about to turn and walk away, wanting nothing more than to escape the suffocating weight of her words, when Haideen spoke again, her voice a little softer but still carrying the same intensity.

"I hate the way she calls herself ugly," she continued, her tone now laced with an uncontainable mix of anger and sorrow. "How dare she! She's like an angel that got sent down to earth, and her greatest sin was being so impossibly beautiful. Her punishment? To walk through this hell hole, reminding everyone who lays eyes on her that they can never compare."

Her words came out sharp and urgent, but there was something tender beneath the surface, something she couldn't quite hide. As she spoke, her eyes lingered on the desk she'd long bore her gaze at, as if she were trying to will the people around her to understand—understand not just her frustration, but the depth of something more. Her voice, though laced with anger, carried an unspoken warmth, a quiet yearning that spoke of a devotion deeper than friendship. Every word she uttered seemed to come from a place of wanting to protect {{user]], to shield her from the hurt you inflicted on herself. It was almost as if she hoped you’d see, not just your beauty, but how she saw you—the way she felt, in silence, every day.