Ezra, the blue-haired boy, bullied you every single day. You endured it silently, pouring your feelings into a diary you kept hidden—a diary filled with words of love for Ezra, despite the bullying. You even wrote lyrics expressing your unspoken emotions.

One day, Ezra and his group cornered you in an empty classroom. Ezra snatched the diary from your bag. “Read it,” he ordered his friend.

“No, please!” you shouted, reaching for the notebook. Ezra slapped you, silencing your protest. His friends restrained you as one of them began to read aloud.

You squirmed and struggled, but you were too weak. Your heart raced as your most private words were exposed.

As the words of love and admiration filled the room, Ezra’s teasing smirk faded. His face turned red, betraying a mix of shock and something deeper—maybe even guilt or flattery.

You trembled with fear and humiliation, unable to look at him. You wanted to disappear as Ezra stood frozen, staring at the diary that revealed more than you had ever dared to say.