The Last Sunset

The day it ended was painfully ordinary. I went bar-hopping with friends and ran straight into Evan. He had his arm around my sister Luna, and I watched him lean in to whisper something in her ear. Her cheeks flushed pink. "Evan, you're so bad." He laughed out loud, then pressed her against him and kissed her deeply in front of everyone. She beat his chest with her little fists, but in the end she melted into his arms, coy and satisfied. My heart clenched, so tight I could barely breathe. He had never introduced me to his friends.

I found out Luna was back in the country through social media. Trending right alongside her homecoming news was EvanAndLunaForever. He was the youngest actor to ever win two Best Actor awards, and in every interview he talked about having a secret lover he'd been hiding for years. Now he'd finally gotten what he wanted, and the feed was flooded with congratulations. But I was the one who'd been by his side for seven years.

Evan's friends finally noticed me. "Isn't that Claire?" one of them, a rich kid named Harris, called out. "Hey, you're not actually in love with Evan, are you?" Everyone was waiting to watch me make a fool of myself. Several people held up their phones to record. My friend's face went pale, and she rolled up her sleeves ready to charge, but I stopped her. I nodded calmly. "Yes. I love him." His friends burst into laughter. Funny—maybe when the pain reaches its peak, you just go numb. I nodded at them again and turned to walk away.

Someone uploaded the video. My social media exploded. Xander messaged me: "Need me to help control the comments?" I shook my head. "No need." Maybe because I looked too calm, my friend kept staring at me but didn't notice anything wrong. When I got home, I sat in silence for a long time. Then I got in my car and drove. On the mountain road, I drove straight off the cliff.

2

Luna brought Evan to my parents' house. My parents were almost never home, so I lived there alone. My stomach churned. I didn't need to guess—this was for my benefit. Killing someone's soul was the cruelest revenge. They couldn't even wait to get past the entryway before they started tearing at each other. The face I had loved so desperately was now gazing at another woman with the same obsession. He kissed her so solemnly, held her so tightly, his fingers threading through her hair like he wanted to absorb her into his own body. And that still wasn't enough. Evan swept everything off the table with one arm and lifted her onto it. I watched our photo—mine and his—fall to the floor and shatter into pieces.

The entryway light flicked on. Evan froze, as if waking from a nightmare. "What's wrong?" Luna asked, her dress strap slipping back onto her shoulder, her arms still looped around his neck, cheeks flushed. "Nothing," he said, sounding irritated, like he'd been doused with cold water. He took a few ragged breaths but still tried to soothe her. "Someone filmed us. It's online. I need to call my agent—if this blows up, it'll be bad." My sister looked annoyed, but she'd been faking sweetness around him for so long it was second nature. She pouted and shook his arm. "I think Claire was upset today. It's all my fault." "It's not your fault," Evan said, leaning down to nuzzle her nose. "I've loved you from the very beginning." Luna pouted harder. "What about her?" She'd been using that trick since we were kids. Evan pinched her nose playfully, then blew hot air into her ear. "Don't you know who I really want?" Luna blushed. "Want me to make you some noodles?" he murmured. "Evan—" He laughed, spun her around, and set her gently on the couch. "Wait for me, sweetheart."

A wave of nausea rose from my feet, and my scalp prickled with fear. I didn't want to watch anymore. But I couldn't leave. Some twisted force kept me tethered to Evan, forcing me to watch him flirt and make out with my own sister. It was sickening. They say suicides are doomed to relive the moment of their death. But for me, the worst part wasn't the car plunging off the cliff. It was this—the slow, deliberate destruction of my heart.

3

The kitchen light fell across his broad shoulders. How warm and loving it looked. I watched Evan fumble with the vegetables, water soaking his ridiculously expensive shirt. But there was a light in his eyes—nothing like the hollow performances he gave me. When we were together, Evan never lifted a finger. He enjoyed everything I did for him, and even intimacy felt like a favor. He took it all for granted. I'd begged him to cook for me once, just once, but he always said he was too busy, or watching his diet. The only time he ever made me anything was when I had cramps so bad I was rolling on the bed. He made me brown sugar water. I was over the moon. Back then, I really believed people could change. Turns out they can—just not for me.

Once, I accidentally saw his chat history with a friend. "You're still with that girl?" "Just playing around," he'd replied casually. "Convenient. And clean."

4

My family was well-off. From the moment I first saw him, I was lost. But he was too famous. Countless rich girls threw themselves at him. My background didn't even register. I added him on social media but didn't know what to say. He was always at the top of my contacts. Just seeing his posts made me happy. He was my god. So when he agreed to date me, I felt more terror than joy. I couldn't understand why he'd chosen me. The entertainment industry was full of stunning women. Even if I was decent-looking, I was nothing in that world.

I was at a booth with my friends, playing dice, when he walked over. The lights hit his face, and it felt like my god had descended to earth. I couldn't speak. He smiled at me and held out his hand. "Want to be my girlfriend?" My friends knew I liked him, but we were all regulars at the bar scene. A confession like that in a club was a hundred percent a dare. Still, I reached out and took his hand. And stepped onto a path of no return.

5

After Luna finished her noodles, they cuddled for a while but didn't go all the way. Watching them together made me sick. I was the only one who lived in that house. That meant they were sleeping on my bed, messing up my things, making love in the only sanctuary I had. They left me no room to breathe. Luna used every part of the man I loved, then pouted at him. "Say you love me." My head throbbed.

Evan's phone kept buzzing. He was always in the headlines. Once Luna fell asleep, he stepped onto the balcony to smoke, afraid the smell would bother her. The phone screen lit up his face, giving him a dark, brooding look. I leaned in to see. The trending topics were all calling me a shameless homewrecker. His friends had sent him links with comments like "Hahahaha that dumb bitch got what she deserved." I watched him scroll through them, close the app, then check his missed calls. There were none. His face darkened even more. Of course there weren't. I was dead.

He called his agent. I heard him ask why the scandal hadn't been buried yet. His agent laughed. "I thought you didn't care? Don't worry, the fans know the drill. Last time—" "Bury it," Evan said. "I don't want Luna to see it and get upset." "Fine," the agent agreed easily. "True love really is different. I'll handle it." Evan took a long drag of his cigarette and said nothing. "By the way," the agent added, "has she been bothering you?" "No," Evan answered quickly. "I'll hang up now." A faint ache stirred in his chest. I knew it wasn't because of me. Of course not. Luna was back in the country, so he needed to clean up all his scandals. I won't bother you anymore. Not ever.

6

A few days later was our seven-year anniversary. A celebrity's birthday usually belonged to their fans, so to me, our anniversary was the one day he was truly mine. By tradition, he'd wake up to my gift, then a series of surprises, then a candlelit dinner, and then—well, for him it was probably just going through the motions. A perfect day.

Early in the morning, I watched Evan knot his tie in front of the mirror, like it was an important day. I was forced to follow him like a ghost to his office. At the entrance, he frowned and looked around, pausing for a moment before going in. What was he waiting for? Then I remembered. Our first year together, I'd dressed up in a bulky teddy bear costume and bounced over to give him flowers. The security guard almost threw me out, thinking I was a crazed fan. I was so pathetic—sweaty and out of breath when I took off the head. But I was so happy. I waved the flowers and shouted his name. What did he do? He stood far away, his face twisted with disgust, then turned and walked inside. Later, his agent scolded me. "Evan is a Best Actor winner. How could you be so clueless?" After that, I learned my lesson. I didn't make a scene anymore. But I still had flowers delivered to his office, signed for by "Dear Mr. Evan."

The last time I sent flowers, I happened to be at the office. I took the stairs and saw the cleaning lady pull my bouquet out of the trash. She shook it, and a card fell out. I recognized that card. I'd written it myself. "Dear Evan, this is our sixth year together. I hope I can stay by your side forever." It felt like my face was being ground into the dirt. I covered my mouth, grabbed the card from the cleaner, tore it up, and flushed it down the toilet. Then I stumbled out of the stairwell, my heels bloody. As if that could erase how badly my heart had been trampled. Looking back now, he must have been so annoyed. No wonder he never wanted the lights on when we were together. He only touched me in the dark. After all, Luna and I were sisters. We looked five percent alike.

7

Evan seemed distracted all morning. That was strange, because he was famous for being a workaholic. The only person I'd ever seen him text during work hours was Luna. Around noon, there was a knock at the door. Evan instinctively straightened his tie and hurried over to open it. "Surprise!" A huge bouquet of red roses was thrust into view, then lowered to reveal Luna's delicate face. "You were waiting for me, weren't you?" She bounced toward him like a little bunny, adorable. I couldn't help but laugh at myself. Everything from this morning suddenly made sense. Did I really think he was anxious because he hadn't gotten my roses? Impossible.

Evan looked at her adoringly and tapped her nose. "What are you doing here today?" "I'm checking up on you," she said boldly. "Making sure you don't have another woman hidden away." "How could I?" He laughed. "No other woman has ever been up here." "Not even Claire?" Luna wrinkled her nose. "I thought you forgot what you promised me." "Of course not," he said lightly. "Hasn't it always been just you?" "Then what about her?" Evan looked at her but didn't answer. Luna buried her face in his chest, her voice muffled. "Evan, I love you so much. I regret leaving for so long." She looked up, her eyes bright. "But I'm glad you're still here." I just found it absurd. He was still here. So what about me?

Suddenly, I remembered why I'd taken the stairs that day six years into our relationship. I'd planned to surprise Evan at his office. I waited forever, but in the end, I saw Luna walk out with her arm linked through his. The way he looked at her was softer than anything I'd ever seen from him. I don't know how to describe what I felt. He'd been with her the whole time. And I'd been sitting outside like an idiot. Then my phone lit up. "Meeting. Won't be back." My message from that morning hung there, alone: "Honey, come home early today. I have a huge surprise for you!" My clumsy, stupid love.

"Evan," Luna whined, shaking his arm. "When are we going public?" For some reason, Evan seemed distracted. She had to shake him again. "What did you say?" One of his business partners walked in. When he saw Luna's profile, he paused, then grinned. "Evan, you brought your little girlfriend again?" Again? I saw Luna's face darken.

8

That night, Luna pestered Evan into taking her to dinner. "What do you want to eat?" He was always indulgent with her. She smiled and named my favorite private kitchen. I was furious. No! You can't go! That's my secret spot! It's where I stammered out my confession to Evan for the first time. It's where all my good memories with him are. You said you'd only go there with me! Why are you taking her! I tried again and again to block them, but they just walked through me. Useless. "It's a little cold," Luna shivered. Evan looked thoughtfully in my direction. For a second, I thought he saw me. But he didn't.

9

Once they sat down, Luna held Evan's hand and made him order. I watched helplessly as he used the dishes I'd carefully chosen to impress her. "I came here with someone else before," he said. "I always wanted to bring you here." And I was that "someone else," of course. When the food arrived, Luna excitedly pulled out her phone. "Wait, let me take some pictures." I watched her methodically erase every trace of my memories with Evan. She photographed, tagged, and uploaded. Finally, she posted a picture of their hands clasped together: "Your heart is my heart." The evidence of my existence vanished, just like I had.

Soon, fans swarmed her page, identifying their idol's hand and flooding the feed with blessings. For every person who wished them a long and happy life, another went to my page to curse me. I'd never dared open my private messages since I started dating Evan. Countless fans sent me horror images, bloody pictures, curses, insults—as if that was the only way to express their hatred for the woman who dared touch their idol. And all of this was thanks to the man sitting across from me.

While Luna was busy, Evan still looked at her with adoring eyes. But I noticed he kept checking his phone. What was he waiting for? Did he think I'd beg him for help after seeing the backlash? I moved behind Luna to look. One glance, and my blood ran cold. It was a familiar account. When I was at my worst, after multiple suicide attempts, this account had messaged me: "Bitch, why aren't you dead yet? Didn't you say you were going to kill yourself? Go ahead! Do it! DO IT!" This was from my own sister? Did she have that sweet smile on her face when she sent those? I shuddered.

10

I watched Luna send me a video, deliberately showing her intertwined fingers with Evan and the hickey on her neck. "Sis, where are you? We went home last night and didn't see you. I'm so worried." I clenched my fists. This was her favorite trick. She was so innocent, so pure, like the whole world was persecuting her. Then she looked up with teary eyes. "I texted Claire, but she won't answer. She must be mad." Evan frowned, annoyed. "She's crazy. Ignore her." Luna lowered her head, and I saw the corner of her mouth curl up. I watched her one-woman show and almost laughed. Dead people can't reply to texts. I wonder what they'll do when they find out I'm gone.

"Evan, I'm not leaving this time," Luna said, getting what she wanted. "Mom and Dad want to have dinner with you. Will you come?" I thought he'd agree immediately, but this time, he hesitated. "Let's wait." For some reason, I felt like Evan wasn't as obedient to Luna anymore. Hadn't he been desperate to marry her? My mother died young. The moment she was gone, my father brought Luna and her mother into the house. That's how I found out I had a sister only six months younger than me. My father never held me, but he couldn't bear to let Luna suffer. Everything I ever wanted, she got easily. My father. Evan. I guess love flows to those who already have it. People like me, with nothing, end up with nothing.

11

That night, Evan stood by the window smoking. After Luna's post, my comment section was a warzone. He hovered his thumb over his phone for a long time, then finally opened my chat. He graciously typed: "Need help?" A red exclamation mark popped up. Blocked?! I was genuinely shocked. I was dead. Who could have blocked Evan? His face twisted. He cursed under his breath, then smashed his phone against the wall. He'd never had a good temper.

12

I always thought Evan liked me. In our fifth year, one of his friends mysteriously told me Evan was going to be on a dating show. "You have to come," his friend said on the phone. "You'll appear as a mystery guest! It'll be a huge surprise!" I accepted joyfully. And then everything fell apart.

It was a new show imported from Korea, all about interactions between male and female guests. During the day, they'd do activities together. At night, they'd vote for their crush. But when I arrived, the host introduced me like this: "This is Evan's fan. She went to great lengths to join the show just to get close to her idol." His tone was dripping with innuendo. "So touching." Evan's face darkened when he saw me. I tried to approach him, but he wouldn't even talk to me. The other celebrities avoided me like the plague. What had I done wrong?

I knocked on his hotel room door. He let me in with a scowl. "What are you doing here?" I was confused. "Didn't you invite me?" "Claire, who do you think you are?" His face was terrifying. "Don't think you can use tricks like this to make me admit you're my girlfriend. Dream on!" I was stunned. "But your friend told me—" He grabbed my collar and slammed my head against the wall. Stars exploded in my vision. "Do you know I'm at a critical point right now? I can't have scandals. You think you can blackmail me? I never knew you were so calculating." He sneered in my ear. "You're wrong." I stared at him in disbelief. He wouldn't even let me explain. He shoved me out the door, and I hit the floor hard. The empty hallway echoed with my sobs as I pounded on his door, begging to know why. No one came out.

By then, I knew I'd been set up. I was a joke, arriving in disgrace and leaving the same way. When Sasha picked me up at the airport, I collapsed into her arms, sobbing. "What did I do wrong? Why is he treating me like this?" After I told her everything, she cursed along with me. "Why do you still like a man like that? I told you he was just playing with you!" At the time, I didn't suspect Evan. I thought it was his friend playing a cruel prank. But birds of a feather flock together. Then Luna appeared on the show as a surprise guest. Their couple hashtag went viral. Their sweet interactions dominated the trending page for a whole week. I watched my boyfriend hold my sister and smile tenderly. I watched the whole internet scream "It's love!" Then Luna sent me a triumphant message. She was draped over Evan, smiling sweetly. "Sis, let me introduce you to my boyfriend."

13

But I didn't know the show could be edited so maliciously. While Luna and Evan were all sweetness, I was portrayed as a monster. A video started circulating quietly during the show's peak. It was edited to make it look like I'd gone to Evan's room late at night, only to be rejected and thrown out. In the footage, I kept pounding on his door, relentless. The video was captioned with a giant question mark: CanFansGetAwayWithHarassingCelebritiesLikeThisEvan's fans exploded. "Oh my god, what a shameless woman!" "Does she think throwing herself at him at night will make him like her?" "Can the production team protect the guests? This woman literally attacked him! Sue her!"

The video even showed my face from a certain angle. Fans turned into detectives. They dug up my entire background in a day. The fan groups went wild. "What? A rich girl trying to sleep her way into our idol's heart?" "Our idol is way too nice!" "I want to rip that bitch's face off!" Right then, Evan's studio released a statement. They formally protested the show's failure to ensure guest safety. They demanded a thorough investigation. They insisted that unauthorized personnel be banned from the hotel. The other celebrities on the show acted like they'd seen nothing. No one admitted they'd seen me. No one protected me. No one spoke up for me. Evan silently let it all happen. He let the tide of hatred drown me.

That night, I swallowed two full bottles of sleeping pills. I'd already been diagnosed with mild depression. That was my first suicide attempt. Unfortunately, they saved me. Looking back, maybe it would have been better if I'd died then. I would have been spared so much more suffering.

14

After Luna finished her run on the show, she went back abroad to finish her studies. She left me to face the wreckage. Evan, who had vanished like smoke, came back. He dropped everything to stay by my hospital bed, apologizing. He explained that he'd been competing for a role with a famous director who hated scandal. When the video came out, the director thought Evan had poor character and gave the role to his rival. Evan was just one award away from the top, and that director's film was his best shot.

My friend wouldn't let him in the room, so he curled up on the bench outside the door all night. Paparazzi even caught him, but he didn't care. Was he crazy? Didn't he want to be a star anymore? I cried, "If you don't love me, please just leave me alone! Stop coming back!" But Evan took my hand and kissed each finger. "Claire, I'm sorry. I love you. I'm not afraid of losing my career. I'm only afraid of losing you." In that moment, I knew I'd lost again. Everything was real. Only his heart was fake.

Later, I overheard him drunk with his friends. "She's so stupid," one of them laughed. "She never suspected you, did she? I remember you hired those paparazzi. Tsk. I almost feel sorry for her." "No," Evan's voice said, laughing. "She pissed off the wrong person." "So when's your precious girl coming back?" "Soon," Evan said, his voice suddenly soft. I felt like I'd fallen into an ice pit. I never understood why he never wanted me to meet his friends, or why I always felt out of place when I did. I thought it was just different circles. But no. All his friends saw me as a joke.

15

Evan called me. I watched with amusement as he smashed another phone. Strange. Who had blocked him this time? Then he called Sasha, asking where I was. Sasha, as always, was a champ. She cursed him out over the phone. "Don't you know what you did to her? The whole internet is attacking her! Your fans are flooding her comments! Can't you control your own dogs? Now you're asking where she is? What, you want to sweep her grave?" Then she hung up in a rage. Just then, his secretary came in with a package. The moment I saw the packaging, I remembered what I'd sent him. I couldn't wait to see his face.

16

Evan's face went pale. Inside was a disc. What if I told you I knew him long before that night at the bar? What if I told you I was his first fan? What if I told you he once promised to repay me? What if I told you that boy said to me on the phone, "If you ever appear before me, I'll recognize you. I'll give you all my love. My soul. My muse. My light of life." And yet, when I finally showed myself, what did I get?

Evan started shaking. He called me frantically, like a madman. Of course, no one answered. I watched his misery with malicious glee. I wanted to see what happened when a man who promised to love someone forever drove them to their death. Evan, you'll get what you deserve.

17

Evan started as a singer. He'd sent his first demo to my friend's company. I was bored and fished it out of a pile of rejects. I listened, and I was blown away. I remembered the passion in his video. The fire in his eyes. He said, "I love singing. Please give me a chance!" Then he bowed deeply to the camera until it went dark. Someone like that couldn't be a bad person, right?

I was having trouble with my family at the time. I contacted Evan, pretending to be a small employee at the company who was interested in his music. He was disappointed but added me anyway. We became friends. I'd never seen anyone so passionate about singing. He shared everything with me. The sweet old lady he met at his part-time job. The boring customers at the club where he sang. His heavy schoolwork. His undying dream. He shone like a diamond. My life was dull and colorless, but listening to him, I felt like I was blooming too. It was beautiful.

Somewhere along the way, I started staying up all night talking to him. Every time I saw his name pop up, my heart raced. I tried to hide my feelings, but a girl in love can't hide anything. I saved every voice message he sent me and played them over and over. I couldn't stop smiling when I thought of him. I was a moth, stupidly throwing myself at the flame.

18

After my first round of online harassment, I developed depression. The medication made my memory fuzzy. I watched Evan pace like a caged beast, calling everyone he could to find me. Finally, he called Luna. "Luna," he asked, "do you remember the first time we met?" Luna sounded half-asleep. "Evan, what are you talking about?" Evan stared at his phone, as if confirming something. His voice was soft and gentle, but his jaw was clenched so hard the veins in his temples bulged. "I said, the first time we met. Do you remember what I gave you?" Luna paused, then laughed softly. "Of course. A CD." I saw Evan visibly relax. "It's nothing, sweetheart. Go back to sleep."

But I could see he was still tense. He chain-smoked several cigarettes, then made another call. "Find Claire." My heart ached. Why was he looking for me? To yell at me again? Suddenly, something I'd overlooked for years surfaced. Why didn't Evan recognize me? How did Luna know about the CD? A crack split open in my hazy memory. I remembered. Luna had noticed something was off about me back then. She kept asking, "Sis, are you in love?" She snuck into my room more than once. Once, I caught her red-handed. Before I could confront her, she smirked, then slapped herself hard across the face. She ran crying into my father's arms. "Claire hit me!" She sobbed, so innocent, so hurt. "She's been ignoring me lately. I was worried she was hanging out with bad people, so I checked on her." My father slapped me so hard my face swelled. "Is this how you treat your sister?" I fell to the floor, my stomach churning.

Luna kept acting. "I printed out her chat logs, Dad. Look, she's gone bad!" She actually handed him a stack of papers! I lunged for them. "Give those back! They're mine!" Then my stepmother, wearing the same fake concern as her daughter, said, "Claire, are you throwing up? Oh my god, you're not pregnant, are you?" My father glanced at the papers and went pale with rage. He threw them in my face. "How did I raise such a daughter!" He hit me again. I collapsed, ears ringing, blood dripping from my nose. One of the papers fluttered down. It wasn't my chat history with Evan. It was a fabricated conversation, full of explicit content—"proof" that I was a slut. I'd been set up. Behind my furious father stood the two snakes, wearing identical fake smiles.

That same day, Evan texted me: "Let's meet." Luna went in my place. I was locked in my room on the second floor, beaten and bruised, half my face swollen. She smiled at me through the door. "Your mother was an idiot. So are you. Why won't you just die? Then everything you have would be mine—sis."

19

Just then, Evan received a second package. Even I was curious. Who was blocking Evan and sending him things in my name? Evan's face darkened. He opened it. Inside was a thick stack of printed chat logs. His hands started shaking as he read. I leaned in to look. It was impressive. Someone had printed out every single insult from my comment section. Words are like knives, and seeing them all together was devastating. On top was written: "Is this how you repay kindness, Evan?"

At the bottom was a yellowed record. It was my old chat history with Evan. A pink sticky note was attached. I saw my younger self, full of love and hope, writing: "Tomorrow, I'm going to meet him. I'll wear my pink dress!" Memories flooded back. I saw that naive girl carefully dressing in front of the mirror, her eyes bright with anticipation. Then came the frame-up, my father's rage, the unjust house arrest. She broke her leg jumping from the second floor, dirty and bruised, but still holding her head high as she ran to the meeting place, ignoring the stares. I screamed at her. Don't go! Please don't go! You'll only see him with someone else. He says he loves you, but he mistakes someone else for you. Love yourself. Don't put your hope in others. No one will save you!

Then I watched Evan's face fall, piece by piece. He went to his study and pulled out a small box. Inside were neatly arranged old items. Photos of him and Luna. But Luna was wearing a white dress. Watching him rage, I almost laughed. Who was this mysterious avenger?

20

Evan's suspicion didn't fade. Over the next few days, he tested Luna on details from the past. Her answers were all wrong. She stammered and grew defensive. But Luna wasn't one to back down. Even if she'd only ever enjoyed stealing from me, now that Evan was famous, she wasn't about to give up the perks of being the beloved girlfriend of a Best Actor. She tried her usual tricks. But this time, they didn't work. I watched her twist the truth in front of him, playing the victim. If I hadn't been the one wronged, I might have believed her. She even had "evidence." I watched her dig up my old belongings and claim them as her own, clumsily piecing together my past like a cheap imitation. You loved her affectation so much. Do you think taking it out on her now absolves you?

Evan told her to get out. I watched her lose her mind while still pretending in front of him. It wasn't funny. It was just sad. All he had to do was ask a few more questions. But he'd turned a blind eye for years. I tried to prove myself. What did I get? Humiliation. Mockery. He asked me: "Do you think you can replace Luna? Who do you think you are?" Look at her now. Look at what she is.

21

I watched Evan grow darker and more irritable every day. He dropped all his work and frantically searched for evidence from the past. The more he found, the clearer it became. Finally, he tracked down the company where I'd worked—the one run by my friend Xander, the owner's son. Xander didn't want to talk to him at first. Eventually, driven mad by Evan's persistence, he sneered, "The only one who ever believed in your music was that idiot Claire! Did you really think you were some chosen one? Your crappy songs were rejected from the start! If she hadn't begged and pleaded to get you opportunities, you'd still be singing in some underground bar, you moron!" Xander's eyes blazed. He grabbed Evan by the collar. "I've wanted to punch you for years! If I'd known you were such an ungrateful bastard, I'd never have let her near you!"

Evan took several punches before he reacted. His face was swollen, and he was trembling. "What did you say?" Xander threw old recordings and contracts in his face. The sharp edges cut Evan's cheek. Blood dripped onto the papers. He didn't bother to stop the bleeding. He frantically tried to wipe the blood off the contracts, only making it worse. Xander laughed coldly. "I said you and your demo are both trash. You don't deserve her. Don't let me see you again."

The truth was out. I'd never seen Evan so broken. A twisted satisfaction rose in my chest. Of course he hadn't watched the demo. He'd thrown it in the trash, thinking it was another piece of "evidence" that I was slandering his true love. The great Evan, so arrogant and stupid, had been fooled for years. "By the way," Xander said coldly before leaving, "Claire took a copy of the original demo from me to give to you. Did you ever watch it?" I cheered silently. I'd promised to buy him some good wine. Sorry, I guess that'll have to wait until the next life.

22

When Evan got home, he locked himself in his room. I watched him stare at the hate comments on my page, his eyes bloodshot. I watched him punch the wall again and again until his knuckles bled. He called me. He emailed me. I watched him stand outside my house all night, "faithfully." At first, Luna thought he was there for her. She tried to play hard to get. When she realized I hadn't been home in a long time, he turned and left without a word. Luna screamed after him, all dignity lost. "Evan, you bastard!"

But I just felt hollow. He tried to reach out to my friends. But by then, he realized he didn't even know any of them. Of course he didn't. In his world, I was just a joke. Why would he care who I was close to, or what I liked? He still thought I was just hiding from him. I couldn't wait to see his face when he found out I was dead.

23

Evan must have gone crazy. He couldn't find me anywhere, so he used his main account to publicly confess his love for me, saying I was the only woman he'd ever loved. The internet exploded. His fans couldn't understand. The comments were full of insults. Some radical fans even burned his merchandise in front of his company. Everyone thought he'd lost his mind. But he kept posting about our past. How I discovered him. How we loved each other. How we were separated by misunderstanding. How we met again. How we stayed together. I read it all. It was well-written. Very dramatic. The Best Actor, so sincere in his apology, begging for you to come back. So pitiful. So heartbreaking. The perfect victim. Eventually, a hashtag started trending: ComeBackClaire. How ridiculous.

Some people asked: "If you loved her so much, why didn't you recognize her? Why did you let her be harassed for years? If you didn't love her, why keep her around?" I wanted to know too. Evan actually replied: "It was a misunderstanding. I was deceived. I did terrible things to her. I'm willing to give everything to earn her forgiveness." And the public actually bought it. Everyone praised his devotion, his sincerity. They begged me to forgive him. Just because he apologized, does that erase everything? No! And a love that comes too late is worth less than dirt. I stood by and watched, disgusted. Even if you mistook someone else for me, even if you were deceived, Evan, you were blind. Not just in your eyes, but in your heart.

24

Once I was "cleared," Luna became the villain. As the one who'd stolen my life for years, she faced worse online attacks than I ever did. After all, the real victim can do no wrong. The only one at fault is the