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Chapter 2

作者: Amber Vine
The next evening, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and carefully styled my hair.

Right on cue, the translucent comments appeared again, giving me a perfect live feed of what was happening at Polaris.

Chloe had already started streaming everything to the massive group chat she shared with hundreds of gaming friends.

‘Holy shit, Chloe really went all out! This isn't a first date. It's a public execution!’

‘Ethan printed that old photo of him at over two hundred pounds on a huge welcome board and put it right by the entrance! I'm dead!’

‘And look at that disgusting bowl of slop they made as a special dinner for “Big Guy.”’

‘That ugly coat plus the pig slop? They're really trying to destroy him tonight!’

A few saner comments appeared every now and then, only to get buried almost instantly.

‘This is hilarious. A bunch of idiots celebrating early. Let's see who's laughing in a minute.’

‘You people seriously have no idea what Pumpkin looks like now...’

‘Everyone talking shit better get ready to pick their jaws up off the floor.’

I adjusted my cuffs and fastened a silver watch around my wrist.

At the door, I slipped into a pair of black dress shoes.

Then I stepped outside.

The night breeze carried the noise of the city toward me.

I got into a cab.

Neon lights streaked past the window as we drove.

My phone lit up with the livestream from the group chat.

The camera swept across a dimly lit VIP booth.

Chloe laughed into the phone.

“All my girls are dying to meet my boyfriend.”

In the background, gaming friends who had once practically worshipped me weren't even trying to hide their mockery.

“Chloe, where's your two-hundred-pound internet boyfriend? Isn't he here yet?”

Then Ethan's exaggerated voice came through loud and clear.

“Come on, don't rush Pumpkin. He probably needs extra time to get dressed.”

He paused dramatically.

“Gotta hide all that weight somehow.”

Laughter erupted throughout the booth.

I muted my phone and slipped it into my pocket.

Half an hour later, the cab stopped outside Polaris.

It sat in the heart of the city's busiest nightlife district, with luxury cars lining the curb.

Tonight, however, red velvet ropes blocked off the entrance.

Two rows of security guards stood outside, turning away anyone who wasn't on the guest list.

And right beside the doors stood a huge welcome board.

The boy in the photo wore an oversized high school uniform.

His face was round.

His head was lowered.

He looked awkward and painfully self-conscious.

Beside the picture, huge black letters read:

‘WELCOME, PUMPKIN! 200 POUNDS OF PURE ROMANCE!’

People passing by pointed at it.

Some even stopped to take pictures.

I stood across the street and quietly watched.

The comments went wild.

‘AHHHHH HE'S HERE! GO KICK THAT THING DOWN!’

‘Chloe and everyone else are livestreaming from the second-floor terrace!’

‘Yara's there too! But she's been drinking by herself in the corner. She hasn't even bothered talking to Chloe.’

‘Obviously. Chloe practically begged her to come last night, saying there'd be a hilarious show. Otherwise someone like Yara wouldn't waste her time at a party like this.’

I looked up toward the semi-open VIP section on the second floor.

It was too far away to make out anyone's face.

I could only see several figures leaning over the railing, looking down.

I took a pair of oversized sunglasses from my pocket and put them on.

Then I headed for the entrance.

My black dress shoes struck the pavement with steady, unhurried steps.

One of the security guards immediately held out an arm.

“Sorry, sir. Polaris is closed for a private event tonight.”

I removed my sunglasses and looked him straight in the eye.

“I'm here for Chloe Zimmerman.”

The guard froze.

His eyes lingered on my face, then dropped briefly to my clothes.

His tone immediately became more polite.

“Are you one of Ms. Zimmerman's guests?”

“Tell her Pumpkin's here.”

The guard went completely still.

His eyes widened.

He turned to look at the overweight boy on the welcome board.

Then slowly looked back at me.

His Adam's apple bobbed.

I ignored him.

I ducked under the velvet rope and walked straight toward the board.

Then I lifted one leg and kicked the metal frame without hesitation.

Crash!

The six-foot display slammed onto the ground.

The livestream comments immediately filled with question marks.

‘WHAT THE HELL?! THOSE LEGS! THAT BODY! WHO IS THIS GUY? DID SOME MODEL WALK INTO THE WRONG PARTY?’

‘That kick was ridiculously hot. I don't even care who he is. I'm a fan.’

‘LMAO Chloe, did you piss off the wrong person? This dude looks like he came here to wreck the place.’

‘Wait. Did Pumpkin send some insanely hot friend to get revenge for him?’

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