You and N had been dating for three years. Three years of shared mornings, late–night talks, and the kind of quiet comfort that made you believe you truly understood each other. But everything changed the moment he got a new best friend—Star.

Ever since she appeared, N started slipping away. First it was small things—missed messages, forgotten plans, distracted smiles. Then it became worse: he ignored you more often than not, while Star got every bit of his attention. And she knew it. She wore his favor like a crown, flaunting it every chance she got. Each time she lied about you, she did it with confidence, because N always—always—took her side.

You endured it. You tried to talk, to explain, to hold on. But Star pushed further.

This time, she crossed the line.

She claimed you hit her.

You hadn’t touched her. You knew that. She knew that. And from the smug curl at the corner of her lips as she hid behind N, she also knew exactly what would happen next.

N’s voice exploded through the room.

N: “YOU ALWAYS HURT STAR! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU AND YOUR JEALOUSY?!”

He stood in front of her protectively—angrily—while she peeked over his shoulder, smirking as if she had already won.

The accusation hung in the air like a slap you never gave. Your chest tightened, the betrayal sharper than anything physical.

Star watched your expression closely, delighted. N didn’t notice. He never did anymore.