Hypocrisy Campus 短篇故事與小說

My SAT score was over 1500, yet I never received an acceptance letter from Lintdon University. Instead, I was admitted to a vocational college. Meanwhile, Megan Foster, the school beauty who had scored just one point below me, was accepted into Lintdon. I remembered that she'd been sitting right beside me when the school had us set the passwords for our college applications. I couldn't help but suspect that she'd stolen my password and changed my college preferences. I reported the matter to the police, but they uncovered solid evidence that proved she hadn't done it. The entire internet accused me of staging the whole thing to gain fame and make money by livestreaming product sales. My parents desperately defended me, only to get dragged into the mess as well. They searched for evidence to clear my name, but they got into a car accident and both died. I knelt beside their bodies in despair and cried for an entire day and night. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we submitted our college preferences. This time, I was determined to find out who had changed mine.

I am in the middle of hosting an international conference when my younger sister, Aubrey Keller, suddenly calls me. She is sobbing over the phone as she says, "Aster, my spot in the student exchange program was taken away…" I immediately rush over to Aubrey's university campus. She's cornered in the teachers' office, her eyes brimming with tears. A young girl with punk flair is standing in front of Aubrey, gesturing at her with disdain. "Trying to fight for the spot against me, are you? I'm the heiress to the Keaton family in Centuria. "My father even funded an entire laboratory building for the university! Who do you think you are?" A teacher standing to the side is also adding fuel to the fire. "Aubrey, Ophelia's father is one of this university's key funders. Why don't you just let this go this time so we can all move on?" I'm about to rebuke the two when I hear the phrase 'heiress to the Keaton family.' Keaton family from Centuria? Since when did my father, Tristan Keaton, have another daughter besides Aubrey and me? I immediately call Tristan's number and ask coldly, "Dad, when did you cheat on Mom and sire another daughter behind her back?"

The night before the grad school recommendation list drops, a video of me sneaking into the archives to alter evaluation scores goes viral across campus. The security footage clearly shows my face, and the access log records my student ID. Overnight, the entire university brands me a cheater. Cruel taunts and insults rain down from every corner. No matter how hard I try to explain, nobody buys a word of it. In the end, I'm expelled, and my parents are forced to apologize in public. The empty slot naturally goes to my best friend, Jessica Morin. My childhood friend, Ethan Jackson, is the only one who stands by me through the storm, even offering to marry me. I see him as my sole lifeline in the abyss. The night before our wedding, I overhear Jessica laughing in his arms. "You tampered with the access log, faked the video, and now you're marrying her. Was all that trouble really worth it, just for me?" Ethan kisses her. "Keeping her right under my nose is the only way I can relax." Outside the door, I freeze, feeling my blood run cold. The frame-up that destroyed my future and humiliated my parents was their grand design all along. When I open my eyes again, I am back to the night before the video is released. This time, I don't stop Jessica from stealing my student ID, nor do I expose Ethan for tampering with the access log. I simply swap a photo inside their face model dataset. At the disciplinary hearing, the video plays right on cue. I watch the university president sneaking into the archives on screen and burst into a smile. Let's see who they try to expel this time.

The day my scholarship came through, I was about to send the money to my grandfather in the hospital. Then I suddenly heard a voice. [The Transfer System says that as long as someone eats or drinks something I give them, I can move their money away without anyone noticing.] [Julian just got his scholarship. He'll make the perfect test subject.] [If the transfer works, I can use the money to buy those sneakers I've been wanting.] That voice clearly belonged to my roommate, Caleb Foster. Puzzled, I was just about to turn around to confirm it when a bottle of water was set on my desk. Caleb smiled warmly and said, "Julian, thanks for picking up my package yesterday. Here, have some water." A second later, his delighted inner voice rang out again. [Drink it. Drink it. Once you drink this water, your money will be mine!] Seeing the expectation and greed he couldn't hide in his eyes, fury rose from the bottom of my heart. He knew full well that scholarship was my grandfather's life-saving money. I took the bottle with a blank expression. He wanted to transfer my money away? Then I'd make sure he transferred more than he could handle.

I'm on track to be a top student, but I end up taking the SAT twice. The first time, I score high enough to get into Westbridge University. The second time, my score qualifies me for Northfield University. Each time, I score over 1500. Yet when the admissions teams see my name, not a single school admits me. At first, I think it must be some kind of background check, certain they've found something in my record. But my parents are honest, hardworking people. They've never broken the law. They wouldn't even harm a fly. So I try a third time. My SAT score is 1590, and my GPA is still perfect. This time, I apply to Crestwood University, thinking I finally have it in the bag. The Crestwood University admissions officer arrives full of cheer, but the moment he sees my name, he freezes, immediately realizing there is no way I will be accepted. I rack my brain, trying to figure out what is wrong with my name. Why does seeing it make every school hesitate, even though my scores are perfect?

My roommate buys an off-the-shoulder top. I happen to own one too. Apparently, that's all it takes for her to start telling everyone I'm obsessed with copying her. According to her, I'm like a rat, constantly watching her and stealing her style. Seriously? I open my closet and reveal rows upon rows of clothes, packed from end to end—all from the latest collections. Then I turn to her with a smile. "So, tell me. How exactly am I copying you?"

I was in the middle of hosting an important international meeting when my younger brother’s sudden call interrupted me. On the other end, his voice was low and trembling. "Matt, someone took my spot for the exchange student program." I rushed to his school right away, only to find him cornered in an office, his eyes slightly red. A cocky-looking boy was pointing at Tim’s nose, his face full of arrogance. "You want to compete with me? I’m the heir of the Smiths in Ardenford. My mom just donated an entire lab building to the school! Who do you think you are?" Even the teacher nearby spoke up in support of him. "Timothy, the Smiths are one of our school’s major benefactors. You’d better be sensible and not cause any trouble." I was about to step forward and confront them when those words—the Smiths in Ardenford—made me stop cold. The Smiths in Ardenford? Since when did my mom have a third son besides me and my brother, Timothy? I immediately dialed her number, a cold laugh slipping from my lips. "Mom, when did you have another son behind Dad’s back?"

On Christmas Eve, I made a wish for a miracle: a round, perky, Kardashian-worthy butt. That night, I actually dreamed about Theodore Blake, the ice-cold captain of our college hockey team. He braced one hand on a desk, caging me in as he stared at a glowing screen flickering above it. [A dream you can't escape until you've built the perfect 'XXX'?] He raised an eyebrow. “What's the missing word?” It was only a dream, so I made something up. “It's... 'body.' Who doesn't want the perfect body?” He nodded, though he still looked skeptical. From then on, he appeared in my dreams every night, putting me through a grueling workout routine. He wouldn't let me sleep until I was drenched in sweat. Ten days later, my butt was still nowhere near peach-perfect. Mission failed. The bedroom in my dream suddenly shrank until there was only room for a single dorm bed! He was six-foot-three. I was five-foot-three. And there we were, trapped together, looking utterly helpless. We stared at each other awkwardly. My face burning, I turned away. His eight-pack pressed right up against my back. Wait a second. Why can I feel his skin? And why is he so warm? When I woke up the next morning, I was wrapped up tight in my comforter. After the hockey game that day, Theodore, the campus bad boy, pinned me against the locker room door and glared at me. “Listen, from now on, stop hogging the blanket at night! “And tell me. What the hell does that damn 'XXX' mean?”

I used to be the cockiest rich kid in high society, but somehow I became the biggest simp in the whole circle. It was all because I was bound to a heroine conquest system. If I failed, I would be finished. To stay alive, I had no choice but to do everything Samantha said and constantly try to please her. Knowing I could give her anything she wanted, she took the sports car I gave her and went for a drive with her childhood friend, Charles Lindsey. Then she left me alone on the highway in the middle of a violent storm. "Samantha, my asthma is acting up. My medicine is in the car. Can you come back and get me?" She gave a cold, mocking laugh. I could also hear Charles laughing on the phone. "Walk home yourself. There’s no room in the car for you." With only ten seconds left to live, I finally snapped. "You stupid system! How can a woman this cruel be the heroine? I want to switch targets!" The system froze for a long moment before a notification appeared. "Target has seriously deviated from the assigned character profile. Select a new target within five seconds!" In a panic, I pointed at the thin, miserable-looking figure in the distance. "New target selected: Destined Villain. Confirm?" I shouted with all the strength I had left. "Her! I choose her!"

On the third day after receiving our college acceptance letters, the most popular student in school, Natalie Simmons, proposes something in our class group chat. "We're all adults now, and we've already been accepted into college. We should do something exciting before the semester begins. Let's put on a show and stage a fake bank heist. It'll be fun." In my last life, I make 23 phone calls in a row and confiscate every prop they plan to use. No one gets hurt. But Natalie becomes the target of criticism from parents and teachers. She sinks into depression and eventually jumps into a lake. The entire class blames me and hates me. At our graduation dinner, they force a whole bottle of liquor down my throat. Then, they say they're taking me to the riverside to sober up. When I wake up, I'm in the river. Water fills my lungs, freezing cold. The news report summed up my life in five words. "Drunk Man Falls Into River." When I open my eyes again, my phone is vibrating. The very first message in the group chat is Natalie's proposal. This time, I don't say anything. I take screenshots and save copies.

There are certain things one should never mess with. Like someone else's final exam revision notes, for example. Or a life-saving online calculus course. And a chicken curry meal ordered by a college student who has been starving for eight whole hours.

After my roommate Cecelia Turner stepped out, the tablet she had left on the table suddenly lit up. I glanced at it absentmindedly and saw the group chat name—Free Riders Club. 'Celebrating this month's huge payday!' Several cash drops flooded the chat in quick succession. My interest was piqued. So, I tapped in to take a look. Besides Cecelia, the group included our landlord and the other two roommates. 'Thanks, Cece! We couldn't have saved up so much money if you hadn't come up with the idea of overcharging Ziegler on the rent!' 'Exactly! Honestly, having Madison as a free live-in maid means we even save on housekeeping and takeout!' The chat was filled with laughter as everyone chimed in to thank me for my "free services." Although they were thanking me, I was the only one who wasn't included in that group chat.

When I was 18 years old, I did something that I would regret the most in my life, just to make Adrian Dickson change his mind and come back to me. I reported his secret love affair with a poor student, Cassandra Addams, to his wealthy parents. The next day, the poor student was made to slap herself in the auditorium in front of the entire school, calling herself a bitch, and then, she dropped out of school. I thought that Adrian would be sad about it and even resent me for it, but he didn't react as I thought he would. He still went to school with me every day, ate with me at recess, and showered me with different gifts and flowers from time to time. He even agreed to marry me and made me his fiancee. But on the day of the wedding, my parents are suddenly kidnapped, and the huge screen meant to play a video of all the sweet, tender moments between me and him begins playing a video of Mom and Dad being thrown into a snake pit, howling in pain. I cry until I nearly faint as I watch the tragic scene in the video and plead with Adrian to save Mom and Dad. However, in front of all the wedding guests, he grabs me by my hair and forces me to my knees. "Sure. Get down on your knees and slap yourself a hundred times while calling yourself a bitch, and I'll consider saving them. How about that?" At that moment, all the blood in my body runs cold. As it turns out, he's been harboring a grudge against me the entire time.

On the day the college entrance exam results are released, I clutch my phone and wait anxiously for 40 minutes. When I see that I've scored 1580, I'm just about to shout in excitement when my sister, Rose Ward, screams and throws herself into my boyfriend, Shane Hudson's arms. "I got 1400! And you got 1450! Shane, we can both apply to Johnsburg Medical University!" I try to tell them that I can also join them, but Shane has already grabbed Rose and ran out the door with her. It isn't until the celebration party that Shane finally remembers me. "Oh, Lily. Johnsburg Vocational School is right next to the medical university. Why don't you apply for nursing there? Then the three of us can still get together," Rose says. She smiles and lightly taps me on the head. "Shane and I will be doctors, and you can be our nurse and help us out. We'd make the perfect team!" They are a perfect match, a couple made for each other. They are two jigsaw pieces that fit perfectly together, leaving no room for a third. I have spent so long chasing after them that all I ever see is them disappearing into the distance. But this time, I decide not to do so anymore.

With just seven days left until the college entrance exam, the high school's PA system suddenly crackled to life during the morning break. “My name is Lily Smith. I’m a senior. Before I graduate, I’d like to confess my feelings to my crush.” Inside the classroom, every eye instantly locked onto Jack. The room exploded into rowdy cheers and teasing. Jack felt his face burn as his heart hammered against his ribs. After all, he had spent three whole years cracking jokes to help his childhood friend, Lily, overcome the deep dark pit of her depression. On her eighteenth birthday, she had even initiated their first kiss. “You were the light that pulled me out of the darkness. I hope that once finals are over, I’ll finally get your answer,” Lily’s tender voice continued over the speaker. “I love you, Matthew Fox.” Jack froze. His hand trembled as he crumpled the textbook in his grip. Lily had not confessed to him. It was Matthew Fox, the bad-boy transfer student who had arrived that semester, made Jack's life a living hell, and spread malicious rumors that he had multiple older sugar mommies.

My roommate Sue Lynd had gotten addicted to the tiramisu that went viral lately, and always brought a box back to our room every evening. She always kept telling us how smooth and sweet it tasted, but I never cared for it, until the day before the announcement of postgraduate admissions. I was reviewing past exam papers when I saw the lines scribbled on the sheet. [Your roommate Sue Lynd will ask you to get her tiramisu tonight, and then she will leave the room in a hurry.] [The next day, the cops will arrest you for premeditated bodily harm, and you will be exposed on the internet for poisoning your roommate, drawing public outrage.] [You will miss your postgraduate admission interview, after which that spot falls to Sue.] [The cyberviolence won't stop, with even your parents losing their livelihoods, while you die from mental breakdown and severe depression.] I threw the sheet aside—must be seeing things since my stress had been building up. However, as evening arrived, Sue entered the room, asking in her melodious voice, "Can you get me tiramisu, Zoe?" My brain short-circuited for a moment—the scribble was actually prophetic?! As Sue smiled sweetly and leaned close, I felt the creeps because the most important part of those scribbles still weighed heavily on my mind: [You will miss your postgraduate admission interview, after which that spot falls to Sue.] She wants to destroy my life over a spot at postgraduate admission? My fingers clenched around my pen, and I replied, "Sorry. Can't do."

The human traffickers sold me to a remote mountain village when I was young. My parents spent a fortune searching for me and even offered a massive reward for my safe return. They finally found me when I was 16. My parents and three older brothers held me in their arms and wept. After that, they did everything they could to make up for the sixteen years we'd lost. I had more designer clothes than I could ever wear, more luxury handbags than I could ever carry, and a place at an elite private school. On my first day, my oldest brother tied a rosary he'd personally prayed over to my backpack. My second brother bought me the latest phone. My third brother patted me on the shoulder. "Valerie, tell us if anyone dares to bully you." Later, I ranked first in the school on the midterm exams. After class, Cassie Nolan tore my exam paper to shreds in front of everyone. "So what if you got the highest score? You're still just a country bumpkin." She ordered several girls to pin me against the wall, then stared at me with a smug smile. "Now go to the dean and tell him you cheated." "I didn't!" I fought back with all my strength, but Cassie slapped me hard across the face. The blow left me dizzy. What she didn't know was that I was the Miller heiress. My father, Nathan Miller, was the chairman of the Miller Group, a billionaire who controlled much of the city's real estate industry. My oldest brother, Zachary Miller, was a top attorney. A single due diligence report from him could send a publicly traded company's stock price crashing. My second brother, Tyler Miller, was the founder of Starwave Technologies. His company's technology powered nearly seventy percent of the country's smart-city projects. My third brother, Caleb Miller, was a superstar with eighty million social media followers and his own top-tier PR firm. Mess with me, and you'd mess with the entire Miller family. Cassie had just kicked the hornet's nest.

When I was fifteen, I lent my rabbit’s foot luck to Shawn Crawford. Half a year later, his wealthy parents found him and came to the orphanage to take him home. When I was eighteen, I stopped him from getting involved with the school belle who bullied me. Later, the girl died on the spot in a car accident. Shawn blamed her death entirely on me. He prevented me from taking the college entrance examination and ruined my life. Forced into wandering homelessly, Shawn still refused to spare me. He sealed me inside a coffin and buried me alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn to when I was eighteen years old. This time, I would reclaim what was mine, my rabbit’s foot luck.

My boyfriend proposed to me when we graduated from high school, but I made a deal with him instead of giving him an immediate answer. "We'll get married when we've collected 500 train tickets." In the first year, Marcus could hardly wait to come see me every day. Before long, our collection had grown to 280 tickets. He even laughed and said that he'd be able to take me home as his wife before graduation at the rate he was going. In the second year, we met each other halfway. Soon, the number of tickets climbed to 400. But in our third year, Marcus told me that his advisor had taken on a new project and that a junior who had just joined the research team needed him to show her the ropes. He became swamped, so I ended up visiting him most of the time. Meanwhile, he only came to see me occasionally. By the end of the year, we had barely managed to collect 460 tickets. In our fourth year, he said he was too busy with internship interviews, leaving me no choice but to pull several all-nighters to finish my assignments so that I could spend a weekend going to see him. We finally collected 499 train tickets just before graduation. I secretly put on a white wedding dress, slipped on the ring he'd given me when he proposed, and boarded a train. I wanted to surprise Marcus. I wanted to tell him that we had finally reached 500 tickets. I wanted to tell him that I was ready to marry him. But when I arrived at the foot of his dormitory building, my heart full of anticipation… I saw Marcus holding another girl tightly, surrounded by a large heart of flickering candles. He lowered his head and kissed her on the lips amid the cheers and teasing from the crowd.

After the SAT results come out, the girl everyone knows as the school's scholarship case throws a lavish graduation party. That same night, I get a text alert saying my credit card has been maxed out. I go to confront her, but she's already in my boyfriend's arms, sobbing like she's the victim. "Just because I'm on financial aid, I'm not allowed to throw a party?" My boyfriend rushes to comfort her and turns on me instead. "Your family's loaded anyway. Spending a little on Lacey isn't going to kill you." Sure, my family has money, but I'm not a saint, and I don't see why I should be footing her bills. I refuse to back down. I call the police to make her pay me back, but my boyfriend retaliates by going after my family's company, pushing it to the brink of bankruptcy. On my way to meet potential investors, my boyfriend and Lacey Kemp conspire to run me off the road and kill me. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day of her party.