e Swee

cent lights of the studio hummed, a dull drone against the ringing in my ears. I found an empty chair in a quiet corner and sank in

s real. Each phrase was a fresh wound, tearing at the old scars. My mind, defiant

creen. That's where I found "Ace." It started innocently enough, a late-night match in our favorite online game. My character

yped after I saved him

It was easy to be witty and confident as "Aria." Behind the screen, nobody saw

t coding. I listened to him talk about his dreams of going pro in esports, the pressure from his father, the weight of expectations. We spent countless nights talking, sharing secrets we wouldn't dare tell anyone else. He was the

Aria," he'd whispered one nigh

y, distant shot of him on campus, playing football with friends. He was handsome, athletic, everything I wasn't. I sent him filtered photos, ca

team, a golden boy, surrounded by a crowd of admirers. There was a poster, advertising an upcoming esports tournament, featuring his face prom

on me. How could I face him? How could I explain "Aria"? The lie was too big, the gap between my online persona and my real self too vast. I was nothing like the girl in the filtered photos. I was overweight, awkward, and terrifi

ew open. Maria poked her head in. "Coralie? We're

ck me. This was my job. I had to maintain my professionalism. To refuse would be unprofessional, per

ing various games. The Vanguard team, including Emmett, settled into a la

gers brushed mine briefly. A jolt went through me.

l reeling. When the server arrived, I ordered a salmon salad. "And pleas

ing, fixed on mine. There was a flicker of something in them, a momentary spark of curiosity, or

a small, polite smile. He couldn't possibly remember. It was just a shellfish allergy. Lots of p

me constantly, worried sick. I had been rushed to the emergency room, my throat closing up after accidentally ingesting a dish with hidden shrimp. My old ro

ef palpable even through text. "I was so

washing over me. "I'm fine. Just... need some rest. I'll be offline for a bit." My lie was elaborate, pathetic. I told him I was going on

htly. He took it, his gaze still on my face. I averted my

pine. This was the man who had once loved "Aria." The man I had betrayed. He was so polished now, so successful, so utterly out of my league. My heart ached with a familiar, bitter yearn

d silence, "You've achieved so much. What's

, now devoid of the earlier curiosity, held a cynical glint. He looked direct

nship, surprisingly enough. It's the memory of learning a hard lesson. The lesson that some people will create an entire f

bly. His teammates exchanged nervous glances. Maria looked mortifi

milestone anymore. It was going to be a slow, public execution of everything I used to be-one inte