Chapter 2

Yoana's eyes dropped to the screen, her pupils shrinking as her face drained of color in an instant.

She shot to her feet, grabbed the cup of still steaming coffee from the table, and threw it straight at my face.

"Don't come near me!" Her voice was full of disgust. "I can't believe you're this kind of trash. And I was going to marry you? You don't deserve it!"

I froze, completely stunned by her reaction. "Yoana, what's wrong with you? What did I even do?

"It was just an 'OK.' How can you say that about me?"

"What do you mean, what's going on?" Yoana frowned, snatched my phone, and opened the chat with the wedding planner. "I'm canceling the wedding right now." Her voice was ice cold. "Marry someone like you? It makes me sick."

She turned and pointed at the door. "Get out. From now on, we're done. Don't ever contact me again."

I tried to grab her, to ask what the hell was happening, but she jerked away in anger. The coldness in her eyes made my whole body tense up.

She did not say another word. Instead, she walked to the wall and started tearing down the wedding decorations one by one, letting the flowers and ribbons fall to the floor.

By the time I came back to my senses, my luggage had already been thrown out to the doorway.

"Get out! If you don't leave, I'm calling the police!"

It was not until I was kicked out of my own home that it really hit me.

Because of a single "OK," I had lost both my career and my relationship. I fell into a deep depression.

I rented the cheapest tiny room I could find in a rundown part of the city, shut myself inside, and spent two days without eating or drinking.

On the morning of the third day, the door was kicked open.

My landlord barged in with two burly men. He pointed straight at me, his voice icy and forceful. "Pack your things and get out. Now," he said. "I'm not letting you stay here anymore. If you don't leave, I'll call the police."

"What did I do? I paid the rent!" I struggled to my feet, weak but furious, glaring at him.

"So what if you paid?" The landlord grabbed my luggage and threw it out the door.

"Have you seen what people are saying about you online? The whole neighborhood knows I rented this place to you. The neighbors are complaining, saying you're ruining the reputation of the area!

"If you don't get out right now, I won't be so polite!"

I stood there, stunned. Then I hurriedly pulled out my phone and opened social media.

I was instantly flooded.

Someone had taken screenshots of my messages in the company group chat and posted them online.

The title read: [Shocking! Employee Fired After Replying 'OK' Late at Night.]

The comments had already exploded.

[People like this deserve to be fired. Good thing the supervisor acted fast or he'd poison the whole company.]

[Expose his name and address. Let him be socially dead!]

What made it even worse was that someone had dug up my personal information, from my name and address to my ID number, even photos from my school days, all of it posted online for people to mock.

[He even graduated from Cromwell University? What a disgrace to his alma mater.]

[He looks normal, but he's actually disgusting.]

[Blacklist him from the whole industry. Don't let him ever find a job again.]

My phone started blowing up with calls from unknown numbers.

Every time I answered, it was nothing but insults and threats.

"Eric, you piece of trash, go die!"

"People like you are a waste of air. Get out of this city!"

I tried to explain, leaving comments under the original post and trying to tell my side of the story, but the moment I posted anything, it was buried under a flood of abuse. When I tried to write out everything that had happened, it only made things worse.

[Still trying to clear your name? Shameless.]

[Ban him permanently. He's a disgrace.]

[Feel bad for Mr. Lowell. Feel bad for his fiancée. How did they end up with someone like this?]

Someone even edited a fake memorial photo of me, with the caption:

[Those who send 'OK' deserve to die.]

It spread through every social group like wildfire.