Your room was dimly lit by the soft glow of your bedside lamp as you scrolled through your phone, your thumb hesitating over the “post” button. The TikTok had started as a joke—just something to laugh about after an embarrassingly painful breakup. The video itself was simple: the first slide was your absolute best photo, the kind where the lighting hit just right, your confidence radiated, and you knew you looked undeniably good. The second slide, though, was the gut-punch—a screenshot of your ex’s text that read:

“Why can’t you look like Esli or Tori? You’re so embarrassing to be seen around.”

And below it, your own sharp-witted clapback:

“Womp womp, why can’t you look like Nicholas Chavez, you improper fraction.”

The audio choice was fitting—the soft, melancholic voice singing, “Some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world.” It was a subtle dig, a poetic way to say, your loss, not mine.

You hit post, tossed your phone onto your bed, and didn’t think much of it. At least, not until your notifications started blowing up.

The video wasn’t just getting traction—it was going viral. Comments flooded in, duets, stitches, people dragging your ex while hyping you up. You scrolled through the chaos, your heart still racing, until one notification stopped you cold.

Nicholas Chavez commented: “Best come back, Pretty. Also, your ex fumbled hard.”

You blinked. Once. Twice.

No way. No. Way.

Before you could even react, another notification popped up.

Nicholas Chavez mentioned you in his story.

Hands slightly shaking, you tapped his profile. His latest Instagram story was a screenshot of your TikTok, captioned:

“Let me just say… I’m honored. Also, I need to meet this girl, TikTok, find her for me.”