Wanna get back at your ex

Zara stared at the message glowing back at her through her screen in the darkness.

“Wanna get back at your ex?”

She blinked slowly and deliberately, as if trying to clear the fog of grief that had clung to her for days. A ragged gasp caught in her throat. Her fingers, still trembling from the icy shock of the betrayal, hovered over the screen.

On a normal day, Zara would have blocked the account without a second thought. Cried herself to sleep with swollen eyes, waking up pretending the pain was just part of her dream. But not tonight. Tonight, something inside her had snapped. Something that was tired of being the victim.

The betrayal had struck her harder than any physical blow could, it had struck harder than she thought. It was sharp, cruel, and unexpected. Elena wasn’t just a best friend; she was her only friend. Her ride or die. Her childhood shadow. The girl who lived next door shared her lunch in second grade, helped her with her assignment, and danced with her barefoot in the rain. Even their parents had become friends because of them. Their families had blended over years of memories.

And Jayden? He had told her she was the love of his life in front of the whole world.

Now the two people she trusted the most were laughing in her face. And the world was laughing with them.

A tear slid down her cheek, but she didn’t wipe it away. She was tired of being soft. Tired of being the one who cried while others lied and laughed.

Her gaze, now sharper, colder, locked into the message again

“Wanna get back at your ex?”

A dangerous thrill shivered down her spine, and her fingers moved before her mind caught up.

“Yes.”

The reply came instantly, almost like it had already been typed, just waiting for her to say the word.

“Good. Meet me.”

Zara’s heart skipped a beat. Her pulse thudded in her ears. Who was this person? She clicked on the profile again. It had no display picture. Just a string of random numbers and a username that didn’t seem familiar. And yet... the message didn’t feel like a prank. It didn’t feel like a random message from a fan. It felt personal. Like the sender had been watching her.

She hesitated, a war of curiosity and fear twisting in her chest.

Her fingers typed slowly. Who are you? A pause. Then the message came in.

“If you’re that curious… meet me.”

Zara found herself tapping on the profile again, her fingers shaky, but curiosity pulling her deeper. She scrolled slowly through the quiet, thoughtful comments that he had left on her old posts, the ones she had ignored in a flood of likes and loud praises.

"You always shine, even when you're not trying to." This comment was under a candid photo of her laughing mid-shoot.

"You deserve more than just a spotlight... you deserve peace." This was under a glammed-up red carpet shot.

Her breath caught in her throat. These weren’t the kind of comments that screamed for attention. They were the kind that saw her, not the filtered, glamorous version the world adored, but her. They were careful, observant, and quietly sincere.

And for the first time, she wondered why she hadn’t noticed him before. There was no profile picture. No flashy posts either. Just a quiet presence, like someone who had always been there in the shadows, watching and observing her. And then the realization hit her: she was the only one he followed; she could see it on his profile, but his followers list was hidden, further guarding his anonymity.

But still... meeting a stranger just like that. Hell no. It went against everything she’d been taught. And yet, something about this felt different. Her instincts, that were usually buried under doubt, whispered to her. Trust him. She didn’t know why. She didn’t know him.

Zara found her fingers moving before her brain could stop them again.

“Let’s meet.”

The reply came quickly, as if he’d been waiting all along.

“Where?”

“You choose,” Zara typed, heart racing.

The reply came back instantly. “No, you choose.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion; this wasn’t the response she was expecting. This wasn’t someone trying to lure her into a secluded spot.

“You don’t trust easily, do you?” the next message came, as if he could see right through her screen.

She hesitated, then typed, “Why should I? I don’t even know who you are.”

A pause, then “Exactly. You shouldn’t trust a stranger that much. That’s why you should choose the place instead.”

Zara stared at the message. Who did the person behind this account think they were? Talking to her like he knew her. Like he had any right to lecture her on trust. On caution. It annoyed her, the nerve of it. But what unnerved her more… was how right he was. She bit her lip. This wasn’t some fan playing games. This was someone calculated, and had obviously been watching her. Who was he?

She inhaled deeply. “Fine. Vanelle Café. 10 AM tomorrow. It’s public.”

“Perfect,” he replied. The simplicity of it was disarming.

"Why are you helping me?" she typed.

The reply came instantly with the username Leoington96 flashing on her screen. "

Because I’ve always seen you... even when he didn’t."

Her heart thudded once, then twice. Who was this man? Her fingers froze over the screen.

Leoington96 typing… “And Zara” "I want to meet you, not Zayden’s half."

Zara stared at the message, her pulse quickening. What did he mean by that? Zayden’s half? Something about that line cut deeper than all the hateful comments online. Because it wasn’t an insult. It was... the truth, the bitter, humiliating truth. But first, she had to meet the man, the man who seemed to see through her soul, Leoington96.