Chapter 4

When I got home, the first thing I did was open the game forum.

As expected, my post was pinned at number one, and the traffic was still surging.

But Dustin was still desperately trying to save face. He quickly posted a clarification, vehemently denying that the person in the photo was him.

To make it worse, he attached nine heavily edited selfies.

His fans commented:

"I believe him! This must be an AI-generated deepfake!"

"I can't believe Luna would go as far as framing Dusty. She must be acting out of spite because she got dumped."

Excuse me? Acting out of spite?

There was never any love, only pure disgust.

So, I posted a few more threads.

I uploaded my purchase history of the limited-edition skins I bought for Dustin, along with various other in-game transactions. It totaled over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

I did this to prove I wasn't poor.

I thought this would put an end to the drama.

But I underestimated these people.

"These screenshots are obviously Photoshopped! Stop spreading rumors, or Dusty's lawyers will send you a cease-and-desist letter."

"Harper said your family is dirt poor, and your parents are just school janitors. Where would you get the money to buy limited-edition skins? Joke of the century."

"Even if you had the money, you probably stole it from your parents' hard-earned cash. Little girl, I suggest you delete your account."

My proof didn't work. Instead, the attacks turned into classist insults.

It seemed like no matter what I said, nobody believed me.

They blindly believed my "bestie," Hailey.

In reality, Hailey wasn't my real best friend.

We were in the same class in middle school. She chatted with me a few times and immediately started calling herself my best friend.

She was just like Dustin in that regard.

Not only that, but she would constantly find excuses to slip into the Maybach that picked me up after school to come to my house.

Sometimes, she would even camp outside my front door without warning. Eventually, because we commuted together a few times, everyone assumed Hailey and I were best friends.

This dynamic continued until high school. She didn't go to the same school as me; she attended a nearby private vocational school instead.

I thought we were finally done, but she still showed up at my house uninvited all the time.

I didn't care much about the term "best friend." To me, it was no different from a regular acquaintance, so I just let her call herself whatever she wanted.

Only now did I realize how powerful the "bestie" label was. As long as a "bestie" said it, people took it as absolute truth.