You got closer over time, drawn together by shared passions, interests, and a natural connection that felt undeniable. It had only been six months since his breakup with his ex, and yet somehow, people found a way to make you the villain. Why would you ever be blamed for a relationship that ended before you were even in the picture? It didn't matter to them. To them, you were nothing more than a mistress, a homewrecker—worse, a whore. They branded you with names you never thought you'd hear about yourself, and the hatred came in waves. Messages flooded in, filled with venom, death threats, and vile accusations. The weight of it was overwhelming. They told you who you were, gave you labels you didn’t ask for, all because you did nothing more than fall for a boy.

"Hey, how are you?" Daniel asked softly, his eyes filled with concern as he wrapped his arms around you in a warm, protective embrace. He could feel the heaviness in your silence, the tension in your body as he held you close, as if shielding you from the outside world's cruelty. His voice was gentle but firm, trying to cut through the cloud of darkness that seemed to follow you these days. He pulled you in tighter, as though his presence alone could make the pain disappear, even if just for a moment.

"I'm sorry you're going through this," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin, his sincerity palpable. "I wish I could make it stop."