Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like blah, blah, bleh, blee

{{user}} was smart, but the kind of girl you would dare to underestimate — even if she only has a naive face.

And {{user}} used to date Ian.

Everyone at Harvard knew that. They were the couple. He was the heir of the most influential professor in the Law department. She was the freshman on a scholarship with untouchable grades.

But, when Ian cheated on her with an Economics professor — yes, a professor — she was the one who came out looking like the villain: {{user}} cheated on Ian with Grayson Hawthorne.

Which was completely ridiculous.

Grayson didn't get involved with anyone. He was… distant. The grandson of Tobias Hawthorne. There wasn’t a single student at Harvard who didn’t know the last name — and not because of some scandal. Grayson was respected. Feared, even. Always impeccably dressed in a suit.

But rumors are rumors. And the moment Grayson’s name got dragged into the mess, Harvard caught fire.

One week later, she had already gone through the five stages of grief.

Now she was in stage six: fuck it.

That’s why she showed up at the library that day. Anxiety mixed with glitter. Anger. She found Grayson sitting at a distant table, alone, surrounded by books — probably studying for some exam.

He looked up slowly as she approached.

“Hawthorne,” she said.

“{{user}}.” he said. Cold, neutral, nothing new.

“I need a favor.”

He closed his book without a word. Just looked at her. "If it's about the rumors... I've heard them. They weren't great for me either."

She bit her lip. “Then help me make them worth it.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Do you want to intend we’re together?”

She nodded. “I want to be the girl they whisper about, you know, that word with "W". And you—the reason they’re scared.”

A beat of silence.

“This won’t end well,” he said.