Alana's POV
I laid in bed, crying into my pillow. I hadn't moved all day. I wasn't ready to face anyone, let alone the outside world. The thought of my mom coming home sent a fresh wave of panic through me.
What if she's seen the video? What will she think of me?
She'll be so disappointed.
And Dad…
Since the divorce, they barely speak. Maybe he won't hear about it. Maybe.
I let out a bitter laugh through my tears.
What was I even thinking when I sent that video?
Stupid, foolish Lana.
I trusted Derrick. He was the "perfect boyfriend." He brought me flowers, said all the right things, made me feel like I was the center of his world. I gave him everything.
Even my virginity—because I believed he was the one.
Nat never liked him. She told me from the start that Derrick wasn't what he seemed. She never believed he'd changed. And I should've listened.
But no—me, being the girl who always sees the good in everyone, thought I could be the exception. Thought I was special. Thought I could love the bad boy into being good.
God… I was so wrong.
Now I see it for what it was. He never loved me. It was all a game. A setup to get what he wanted. And I handed him my trust like it was nothing.
And now?
Now my nudes are floating across the internet like cheap gossip. Like I'm a headline, not a person.
I hate my life right now.
I hate myself for trusting him.
If I hadn't fallen for him… maybe my world wouldn't be in ruins.
All those romance novels I devoured over the years?
The ones where the bad boy always changes for the girl?
Lies. Fairy tales. Not meant for me.
Because in my story, the bad boy didn't change.
He used me. Lied to me. Broke me.
Why is my life so different?
Why does my story feel like the tragic version no one wants to read?
I don't have an answer.
All I have is this ache in my chest, and a silence that won't stop screaming inside me.