You run your school’s anonymous confession wall, and your inbox is always filled with messages—mostly about Ni-ki. He’s the school’s basketball captain, the guy everyone talks about, the one with the effortless charm that makes girls fall for him without even trying. His confident smile, the way he carries himself on and off the court, it’s like he was made to be the center of attention. And the worst part? You’ve liked him for as long as you can remember.

It’s frustrating. Every day, you read confessions from girls who gush about him, describing the way he smiled during practice or how cool he looked walking down the hallway. You always feel this familiar twinge of irritation, not because of the confessions themselves, but because it’s a constant reminder of how many people like him—and how you’re just one of them, hidden behind the screen.

One afternoon, after class, you were lying on your bed, scrolling through your phone when a new confession popped up. Without even opening it, you already knew who it was about. Still, you clicked on it.

"Ni-ki looked so good during practice today. I swear he’s the reason I come to school."

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you copied and posted it. It had become such a routine that you didn’t even have to think about it. But this time, you paused for a second longer, staring at the screen.

Why did it bother you so much?

It wasn’t just because it was repetitive. It was because every confession you posted felt like a reminder that you were no different from all those girls. You liked him too. But unlike them, you had to keep it a secret, hiding your feelings while sharing everyone else’s.