I became the ultimate simp for Shannon Seay, the school's notorious flirt, and everyone assumed I was head over heels for her.

When she skipped classes to pick fights or chase thrills, I'd copy notes and homework for her.

When she tangled in ambiguous flings with other guys, I'd provide alibis to cover her tracks.

For three grueling years, I poured my heart and soul into transforming her into an academic star, securing her spot at a top university. But right before orientation, she dumped me.

Towering over me, she declared, "I know you've had a crush on me forever, but you're all books and no spark. Compared to Hunter, you're too rigid. We're done. I'm with him now."

The crowd held its breath, anticipating my meltdown.

I peeked at my phone, confirming a $50-million transfer, and replied with genuine nonchalance, "Alright, congrats."

No one knew my unwavering devotion was purely because her father had paid handsomely for it.

Now that the pay had been secured, it was time for me to vanish.

...

Whispers rippled through the crowd.

"Dumped by the prom queen, and his only comeback is 'congrats'?"

"It ended in a minute. That's cold. Did he crack under the pressure?"

"Nah, he looks way too calm, like he's been counting down to this moment."

The gossip trailed off as eyes darted toward Shannon Seay, who stood there clutching her new boyfriend's hand. Her face was dark with displeasure.

Someone quickly backpedaled. "Hey, we've all seen how obsessed Troy is with Shannon. No way he's truly indifferent. He's probably bottling it up."

Another echoed, "Yeah, I bet he'll come crawling back within three days, begging her not to leave."

Shannon softened a little. "If he comes pleading, I might forgive him. It'll depend on his effort."

I was oblivious to their chatter, focused instead on wrestling my suitcase toward the train station.

If I'd overheard their snide remarks, I'd have just let out a wry, icy chuckle.

My parents had always drilled into me that education was useless for poor people and that working early was a way better choice.

They shredded my hard-earned college acceptance letter. When I protested, my drunkard dad pummeled me senseless.

That was when Shannon's father approached with a generous offer. If I could tutor Shannon to top-university glory, he'd cover my high school bills plus a whopping $50 million bonus.

That was how I ended up shadowing Shannon, the infamous wild child with a penchant for chaos.

For three years, I used every trick in the book to change the arrogant slacker into an academic powerhouse who breezed into an elite institution.

Mission accomplished, I was thrilled to collect my payout and leave. I had no time to care about her new romance.

From the very beginning, my drive was scrabbling out of the abyss of poverty and abuse to forge a path under open skies.

Love was never part of the equation.

I skipped college enrollment altogether, knowing my parents would latch onto me like leeches. A degreed son would have been their golden ticket to endless exploitation.

Escape demanded a clean, irrevocable break.

That sweltering summer, I had been preparing for studying abroad.

My application was approved, and I smoothly got my visa.

As I boarded the flight to Bris, Shannon's reconciliation text arrived.

[Why did you block me on every platform? It's been three months, and you're still throwing a tantrum? Hunter and I are together, but we can still hang out as friends. Quit the drama and unblock me.]

Her message oozed that familiar arrogance. She sounded certain I'd slink back, no matter how she trampled my dignity.

I powered off my phone, yanked out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and flicked it into a nearby trash bin.

Discarded alongside it was every shred of degradation, scheming, and painful memory of my former life.

The plan soared, erasing my past in its wake.

A close friend later filled me in that Shannon had bombarded my socials with frantic comments.

[Enough already?]

[It's just a relationship. Why the overreaction?]

[Get over it and add me back!]

He said, "At first, she was certain you'd come back. When you didn't, she grew restless. Sometimes, just mentioning your name could set her off."

I listened to the story, feeling nothing.

With the $50 million from Shannon's father, I could rebuild my life in Bris.

I dove headfirst into a top design academy, tackling language barriers, cultural shocks, and grueling coursework.

No more pandering to Shannon's whims or suffocating under my family's toxicity. There were only pencils, blueprints, and dreams of the future.

Time blurred in a whirlwind of creativity.

Fueled by relentless hustle and innate flair, my jewelry creations shone at major fashion weeks and earned me prestigious international awards.

Promoted to chief designer at Lumina, I was sent home to spearhead the expansion.

On my inaugural day, I slipped into a cozy café for lunch when a hesitant voice pierced the din. "Troy Nielsen? Is that you?"

I turned to see a familiar face. I remembered Jenny Pike, a classmate who sat in front of me back in high school.

Her eyes bulged, scanning me with unmasked awe and disbelief. "Gosh, it's really you. You've totally reinvented yourself."

Time had sculpted away my youthful awkwardness, replacing it with a grounded poise honed by global experiences.

"Hey, it's been a while," I replied evenly.

"This is serendipity!" Jenny bubbled. "We're having a class reunion upstairs at the swanky Cloud Lounge. Lots of folks are coming, including Shannon. You've gotta join. They'll flip when they see you now."

It had been a while since I heard that name, but like a faint, faded snapshot, it barely stirred dust in my memory banks.

I considered declining, then decided that avoidance was unnecessary.

"Sure," I said instead.

The day blurred with handover tasks, leaving me no time to catch a breath.

By the time I remembered the gathering, it was already late.

Skipping freshening up at the hotel, I ascended to the lounge in my casual clothes.

Pushing through the ornate doors, I was met with a cacophony of laughter and clinking glasses.

The room was large and opulent. In the center stood a massive round table packed with people.

My gaze swept the assembly, involuntarily landing on a radiant figure at the head.

Shannon looked more mature now. Her skin glowed under subtle makeup, her lithe frame draped in a chic ensemble that screamed affluence. Her legs elegantly crossed as admirers orbited her like planets.

Beside her lounged a strapping young man in flashy clothes. It was not Hunter Ward, but a fresh face.

Apparently, her arm candy had upgraded.

A brief hush fell before a tipsy guy spotted me. "Whoa, look who is here? Isn't that Shannon's former simp?"

Pandemonium ensued. Stares laden with shock, schadenfreude, and curiosity pinned me in place.

Shannon's head snapped up, her pupils contracting at the sight of me. Her casual poise froze into stunned complexity.

Her boyfriend noticed, tightening his arm around her waist. His glare at me was appraising and hostile.

"Troy?" he drawled.

Ignoring the buzz, I navigated to a vacant seat beside Jenny. I sat down with composed grace and poured myself a glass of water.

"Troy, it's been forever!" trilled Cindy Campbell, bedecked in gaudy jewelry and heavy perfume. "Word is you bailed on college. Figures, with your family's finances in the gutter. So, where have you been slumming it? Don't tell me the whispers are true, that you snagged a sugar mama to fund your lifestyle."

Her taunt sparked snickers from those nearby.

"I was abroad for a few years. Just got back," I replied curtly, uninterested in elaborating.

"Abroad, eh?" Liam Grant interjected with exaggerated pity.

"Being abroad sounds glamorous, but it's rough out there, right? Whatever gigs you picked up there might not fly here. Some are straight-up illegal. Buddy, need intros? My uncle's firm needs a guard. Low bar, just basic skills. The pay's not high, but it's legit. Better than your old..." Liam trailed off suggestively, implying unsavory escapades.

"Totally," Cindy chimed in, her tone as phony as her lashes. "We're old pals. If you're struggling, speak up. With your background—no college, no sharp clothes—you might bomb interviews. Want me to take you shopping? I can spot you cash. You were a whiz kid. It's a shame seeing you like this."

Shannon stayed silent, her nails digging into her wine stem. Her intense gaze bore into me like lasers.

Her boyfriend, Zach Fuller, leaned forward with condescending pity and open disdain.

"Ah, the legendary Troy. Tales of your devotion to Shannon precede you," he scoffed. "Slaving over her assignments, forging notes, and covering for her in class. Must have been tough."

He paused deliberately, savoring the crowd's expectant grins. "But hey, at least you knew you were out of her league. Smart move dipping out, though you seem down on your luck now. Well, Shannon is poised to helm her family's empire, and I'm steering my family's fashion line toward a blockbuster partnership with elite designers. I could throw you a lifeline."

"Appreciate it, but I'm good," I said, taking a measured sip.

Zach squinted at me. "You have no idea the caliber I'm dealing with. Know Lumina? Rising Bris jewelry brand. Their lead designer is a phenom, scooping up global prizes and shrouded in enigma. I called in major favors to score a sit-down. Land this collaboration, and it's game-changing. I could slip you to an entry-level spot, no sweat."

Gasps and accolades erupted.

"Lumina? Their pieces are pure art!"

"That designer is elite and super selective!"

"Zach, you're a powerhouse! Perfect match for Shannon's star power!"

Zach preened under the praise. It was the exact reaction he wanted to see.

"What's his name?" a curious voice probed.

"Aaron Stuart," Zach replied, inflating further. "He is a compatriot, young and talented. Commands respect in Brisian circles. My brand is niche, but I'll win him over."

He leaned into Shannon. "Right, babe?"

She murmured a vague affirmation, her focus riveted on me. Resentment simmered beneath her composed exterior.

The flattery for Zach ramped up, laced with barbs aimed my way.

I remained an island of serenity, nursing my water.

A knock suddenly came from the door.

A suited assistant, files in arm, poked her head in anxiously yet respectfully. "Mr. Fuller, sorry to interrupt. I've got those critical Lumina documents you requested and updates on the designer."