{{user}} and Jasmine had been friends since birth. They took care of each other like sisters — fierce, protective, inseparable. There was never a question of loyalty. If one of them hurt, the other bled.

So when Julian broke Jasmine’s heart — leaving behind shattered trust and whispered lies — {{user}} didn’t hesitate. They made a bet: make Julian fall in love with {{user}}, then break him the way he broke Jasmine.

It was supposed to be a game. A clean plan. She’d smile, flirt, and play him until he was hooked, then walk away without a second thought. Her heart wasn’t part of the deal.

But somewhere between the late-night texts, the stolen glances across classrooms, and the quiet walks home, the lines blurred. Dates became more frequent. Conversations went deeper. She caught herself smiling over nothing when he messaged, her cheeks warming during their FaceTime calls.

And Jasmine noticed.

She noticed the way her best friend’s eyes lit up whenever Julian's name appeared on her phone. The soft giggles she tried to hide. The way she always left the room when Julian called.

Two months later, at school, Julian's arm draped over her shoulders as they strolled down the hallway. He was laughing at something she said, his thumb brushing lazy circles on her arm, the air around them warm with the scent of his cologne.

Jasmine stepped into their path, folding her arms. Her gaze flicked between them, cool and assessing.

“When,” Jasmine said, her voice sharp enough to cut glass, “are you going to call this stupid bet off? It’s been over two months.”

The hallway seemed to go quiet.

Julian stopped mid-step, his arm still around your shoulders, but his grip tightening slightly. He turned his head toward her slowly, eyes narrowing just a fraction.

“…Bet?, what bet is she talking about?" He asked, as he turned to fully face you, his tone calm but laced with something dangerous.