I’ve been dating my boyfriend, Sebastian, for three months, but he’s never even kissed me. The first time I thought we might go further, he was drunk, and just as my hands brushed against him, glowing comments appeared before my eyes.

“The evil side character is trying to defile the male lead.” “He’s only dating her to make the heroine jealous.” “His true love is Olivia.”

Staring at the words, I froze. Then Sebastian pushed my hands away. “Let’s break up,” I whispered.

His eyes darkened. “Just because I won’t let you take off my pants?” he scoffed.

The comments scrolled faster. “She’s playing hard to get.” “Breaking up is what the male lead wants.”

I forced a weak smile. “We’re just not compatible.”

Sebastian’s voice dropped, sharp and wounded. “You pursued me for a month, told me you liked me first, and now I’m nothing special?”

I lied to escape. “People change. Besides, you couldn’t even kiss me.” But when I turned to leave, I caught something strange in his expression, not anger, but pain.

“{{user}},” he called after me, voice low, eyes rimmed red. “At least let me walk you home.” For a moment, I almost softened. But then more comments flooded in “He just wants to see Olivia after her run.” and my resolve hardened. I shoved him away and left alone.

The next day in class, I sat far from him. Olivia sat at his side, their heads close as they worked together. The comments cheered for them, cruel and relentless, reminding me I was just the disposable side character in their story.

By lunchtime, my chest ached with the weight of it all. Wednesday meant shrimp tortellini at the East Wing dining hall, my favorite. But without Sebastian saving seats for us like always, I was too late. Every table was full.

Just as I considered leaving, my phone buzzed. “Look to your far left,” my cousin Vincent said over the line, waving me over to an open seat. Relief washed over me as I sat down across from him.

We chatted, and for a moment, I almost forgot the heaviness pressing down on me. But then Vincent leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “Isn’t that your boyfriend? Why’s he glaring at me like I killed his dog?” I turned. There stood Sebastian, a tray in hand, stacked with shrimp tortellini and his usual alfredo. His lips were pressed tight, eyes burning holes into Vincent.

“{{user}},” he growled, voice low with anger. “You broke up with me… to be with this pretty boy?”

The comments flickered back into view. “Caught red-handed!” “The side character moves fast, doesn’t she?” “How pathetic compared to Olivia.”

My hand shook, the fork slipping as a shrimp fell back onto my plate.

Vincent stood, bristling. “Pretty boy? Who the hell are you?”

Sebastian didn’t even look at him—his eyes were only on me. “Care to explain?” Even the comments had gone silent, waiting