LOGINCAMERON’S POVI didn’t realize how much I missed being bored.That sounds stupid, but hear me out. Bored meant nothing was actively trying to ruin my life. Bored meant the biggest problem of the day was choosing between pasta or rice for dinner. Bored meant peace.So when Brandon and I were sprawled on the living room floor on a random Tuesday night, textbooks open but untouched, arguing about which movie to watch, I felt something settle in my chest.Normal.“You always pick sad movies,” Brandon complained, scrolling through the streaming app.“That’s not true,” I said. “I pick emotionally rich movies.”“Where everyone dies.”“Character development,” I corrected.He snorted and tossed a pillow at me. “We are not crying tonight.”I caught the pillow and hugged it to my chest. “You cried during that dog commercial yesterday.”“That dog was abandoned,” he said defensively. “That’s different.”I smiled, really smiled, and realized something else too.I wasn’t checking my phone.That shou
BRANDON’S POVNormal came back slowly.Not like a switch flipping on, but like a bruise fading—still tender if you touched it too hard, still visible if you looked closely, but not screaming anymore.Campus started acting like campus again.People rushed to class. Complained about deadlines. Argued over coffee orders. Cameron and I walked hand in hand without whispers following us like ghosts. Some people still stared, sure—but most had moved on to the next drama.I envied how easy it was for them.Cameron tried to pretend he was fine.That’s how I knew he wasn’t.It showed up in small ways. The way he checked his phone too often. How loud noises made his shoulders tense. How he hesitated before posting anything, even something stupid and harmless.One afternoon, we sat on the grass near the library, books open but ignored.“You’re spacing out again,” I said gently.He blinked. “Sorry. What were you saying?”“I wasn’t,” I admitted. “Just watching you think yourself into knots.”He smi
CAMERON’S POVThe quiet felt illegal.That was the first thing I noticed the morning after everything ended. No buzzing phone. No anonymous messages. No trending hashtags attached to my name. Just sunlight slipping through the curtains and the soft sound of Brandon breathing beside me.I lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the anxiety to kick in.It didn’t.Instead, my chest felt… lighter. Not healed. Not perfect. Just less crushed.Brandon stirred beside me, groggy and half-asleep. “You’re staring again.”I smiled. “You snore.”“I absolutely do not.”“You do. Softly. Like an offended kitten.”He cracked one eye open. “Rude.”I laughed quietly, then immediately froze—like laughing too loud might break something fragile. Brandon noticed.“Hey,” he said softly, rolling onto his side to face me. “You’re allowed to be okay.”“I know,” I said. “It just feels weird.”“Yeah,” he agreed. “Peace does that.”We stayed in bed longer than necessary. No rush. No plan. Just u
CAMERON’S POVI didn’t sleep.Not really.I kept drifting in and out, stuck in that awful half-dream state where your brain refuses to shut up. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw countdown numbers. Red. Blinking. Threatening.When morning finally came, my phone was already buzzing.Not anonymous this time.Irene: They’re bringing him in.I sat up so fast my head spun.“Brandon,” I said, shaking him. “Wake up.”He groaned. “If this is about cereal, I swear—”“They found him.”That did it. He was awake instantly. “Who?”“The person behind it all.”We didn’t even bother changing properly. We threw on hoodies and sneakers and rushed out the door like the world might end if we walked instead of ran.Campus was buzzing. Not loud exactly, but tense—like everyone could feel something big about to happen. Phones were out everywhere. Whispers followed us again, but this time they felt… different.Curious. Anticipatory.Irene met us outside the student conduct building. Her eyes were bright, jaw
BRANDON’S POVPhase Five didn’t come with a text.It came with silence.No messages.No threats.No anonymous numbers lighting up Cameron’s phone.Just… nothing.And somehow, that was worse.I noticed it first the next morning. Cameron sat on the edge of the bed at my cousin’s apartment, scrolling through his phone over and over like refreshing might summon something back to life.“You good?” I asked, pulling on a hoodie.He nodded too fast. “Yeah. Just… waiting.”“For what?”He didn’t answer.That scared me.The internet hadn’t shut up, though. If anything, it was louder. Think pieces. Threads. TikToks dissecting Cameron’s expressions frame by frame like he was a character in a show instead of a real person.Some people defended him fiercely.Others didn’t.And some just liked watching things burn.By noon, Cameron hadn’t eaten. Hadn’t spoken more than three full sentences. He sat curled up on the couch, knees to his chest, staring at the blank TV screen.I sat beside him and nudged
CAMERON’S POVPhase Four didn’t announce itself.It just showed up in my inbox at 9:07 a.m. with the subject line:MANDATORY DISCIPLINARY MEETING.My hands went cold.I stared at the screen for a full minute before Brandon noticed something was wrong.“Cam?” he said. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”I handed him my phone without a word.His jaw clenched as he read it. “Admin.”“Yeah,” I said quietly. “They want us both there. Noon.”He sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “Of course they do.”The walk across campus felt unreal. People stared like we were exhibits in a museum—some curious, some judgmental, some openly sympathetic. Phones were out everywhere. Whispers followed us like shadows.I hated it.At one point, I slowed down, my chest tightening. Brandon noticed immediately.“Hey,” he said softly, stopping in front of me. “Talk to me.”“I feel like everyone already decided who I am,” I admitted. “Like nothing I say will matter.”He stepped closer, lowering his voice







