Alex Hale adjusted his borrowed tie for the tenth time as he walked through the iron gates of Blackwood University's Crystal Ballroom. The suit didn't fit perfectly - the shoulders were too wide, the pants a bit long - but it was the best he could manage on a scholarship student's budget.
Three months.
The thought made him smile despite his nerves. Three months since Sophia Blackwood had said yes to coffee after their Economics class. Three months since the most beautiful girl on campus had chosen him over the dozens of wealthy guys who threw themselves at her feet daily.
The ballroom glowed with golden light from crystal chandeliers that probably cost more than his entire education. Students in designer clothes worth more than cars mingled with champagne glasses, their laughter echoing off marble walls. Alex recognized half of them from magazine covers - the children of senators, tech billionaires, oil barons. People who bought companies like normal people bought groceries.
I don't belong here.
The familiar voice of doubt whispered in his head, but Alex pushed it down. Sophia belonged here, and she'd chosen him. That had to mean something.
His fingers found the small velvet box in his jacket pocket. Two months of double shifts at the campus café, living on ramen and hope, skipping meals to save every dollar.
The promise ring wasn't huge - just a simple silver band with a tiny diamond - But it was real, whatever this was between them, it felt honest.
She listens when I talk about the foster homes. She holds my hand when I tell her about wanting to start my own company someday. She sees me, really sees me, not just some charity case.
Alex remembered their first real conversation, how Sophia had leaned forward when he mentioned growing up without parents, her green eyes soft with genuine interest. "That must have made you so strong," she'd whispered, her manicured hand covering his calloused one.
The memory gave him courage. He straightened his shoulders and walked deeper into the crowd, scanning for Sophia's familiar blonde hair and radiant smile.
Tonight's the night. Three months is long enough to know this is real.
___
Alex spotted her across the room, and his breath caught like it did every time. Sophia stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights behind her making her look like something from a movie. Her red dress probably cost more than his rent, but that didn't matter. What mattered was the way she'd looked at him yesterday when he brought her favorite coffee to the library.
She was with her usual crowd - Marcus Steele, whose family owned half the steel production on the East Coast; Jennifer Vanderbilt, whose trust fund could buy small countries; and Robert Chen, heir to a tech empire that made Google look like a startup. They were laughing about something, champagne glasses glinting in their hands.
Her friends still make me nervous.
Alex had tried to fit in with them over the past months, but their conversations about vacation homes and private jets always made him feel like he was speaking a foreign language.
As he approached, Sophia's eyes met his across the room. For just a split second, her perfect smile faltered - a micro-expression so brief Alex almost missed it. But then her face lit up with warmth, and she waved him over.
"Alex!" She kissed his cheek, her perfume expensive and intoxicating. "Everyone, you remember my boyfriend."
Boyfriend.
Even after three months, the word from her lips made his heart race.
Marcus raised his glass with what looked like a genuine smile. "Alex! Good to see you, man. How's the café treating you?"
Jennifer giggled behind her champagne. "Sophia's told us so much about you."
Alex felt the ring box pressing against his ribs. The music was soft jazz, the lighting romantic, Sophia's hand warm in his. Everything was perfect. This was the moment he'd been planning for weeks.
She's going to say yes. She has to. What we have is real.
"Actually," Alex started, his hand moving toward his pocket, "I wanted to ask you something important, Sophia..."
That's when Marcus Steele raised his glass higher and cleared his throat.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Marcus announced, his voice carrying across their small circle, "I think it's time we let Alex in on our little secret."
The words hit Alex like ice water. Secret? His hand froze halfway to the ring box as the group's laughter died into expectant silence.
Marcus's smile turned predatory. "You see, Alex, three months ago we were having drinks right here in this ballroom. The conversation turned to an interesting question - could someone from our circle actually make a scholarship student fall head over heels in love?"
No. No, this isn't happening.
"The bet was simple," Jennifer chimed in, pulling out her phone with manicured nails. "Could we make someone so desperate for acceptance, so pathetically grateful for attention from their betters, that they'd do absolutely anything for us?"
Alex's vision started to tunnel. "Sophia, what are they talking about?"
Sophia stepped back from him, and the warmth drained from her face like someone had flipped a switch. The loving girlfriend disappeared, replaced by someone cold and cruel that Alex had never seen before.
"Oh, Alex." Her voice was different now - condescending, dripping with fake pity. "Did you honestly believe this was more than a game? That I, Sophia Blackwood, would genuinely date someone who serves coffee to pay for textbooks?"
The room spun. Alex grabbed the back of a chair to steady himself.
"The entertainment you've provided has been extraordinary," Robert Chen added, scrolling through his phone. "We've documented everything. Want to see?"
Jennifer's phone screen lit up with videos - Alex carrying Sophia's books across campus like a servant, Alex waiting in the pouring rain for two hours when she was "running late" from a spa appointment, Alex spending his food money on flowers for her birthday while she laughed with Marcus in the background.
"We've got months of content," Jennifer giggled."You were so eager to please, so grateful for every scrap of attention. It was actually pathetic."
'Every 'I love you.' Every time she held my hand. Every night I stayed up talking to her about my dreams...'
"My personal favorite," Marcus continued, "was when you defended her to your little friends. Remember that? When they tried to warn you she was out of your league? You actually got angry at them for suggesting she might be using you."
The memory hit like a physical blow. Danny from his dorm had pulled him aside just two weeks ago. "Man, I don't want to hurt you, but something feels off about this girl. Girls like that don't date guys like us unless they want something."
Alex had exploded. "You're just jealous! You can't stand that someone actually sees past my bank account!"
'They knew. My friends knew, and I called them jealous idiots.'
"The best part?" Sophia's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. "Every night you thought I was studying late at the library? I was with Marcus. In his penthouse. Laughing about your latest pathetic gesture of devotion."
The promise ring slipped from Alex's numb fingers, hitting the marble floor with a tiny metallic clink that sounded like his world ending.
"We kept score," Marcus said, leaning closer. "Every time you bought her something you couldn't afford - five points. Every time you canceled plans with your friends for her - ten points. Every time you said 'I love you' and she had to pretend not to be disgusted - twenty points."
"What's my total?" Sophia asked sweetly.
"Eight hundred and forty-seven points," Jennifer announced. "You win the bet, Soph. That ski trip to Aspen is on us."
Alex stared at the ring on the floor, his vision blurring. Three months of his life. Every feeling, every moment of happiness, every dream about their future together - all of it fake. All of it just entertainment for people who had everything and were bored enough to destroy someone for sport.
___
"You sick fucks." The words tore from Alex's throat, raw and broken. "You destroyed me for fun?"
Marcus stepped forward, his six-foot frame towering over Alex. "Destroyed? Drama much? It was just a game, charity case."
"Game?" Alex lunged forward, three months of humiliation and rage exploding out of him. "You made me fall in love with a lie!"
Marcus caught Alex's wild swing easily, his Princeton boxing training showing. "Wrong move, scholarship boy."
The first punch caught Alex in the solar plexus, doubling him over. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, just gasped for air that wouldn't come.
"Hold him," Marcus commanded.
Robert and Jennifer's boyfriend grabbed Alex's arms, stretching them wide while Marcus smiled. "Here's a life lesson about knowing your place."
The second punch split Alex's lip, Marcus's Harvard class ring tearing skin. The third hit his cheekbone, stars exploding across his vision. Alex tasted blood, felt it running down his chin onto his borrowed shirt.
"Stop," he gasped, but Marcus was just getting started.
"Every time you touched her, I had to hear about it," Marcus snarled, hitting Alex in the ribs. "Do you know how disgusting that was? Her having to pretend she enjoyed your pathetic attempts at romance?"
Crack.
Something in Alex's chest gave way - ribs breaking under the assault. He would have collapsed if they weren't holding him up.
"That's enough," Sophia's voice cut through the violence, but not from concern. "Don't damage him too badly. I want him conscious for the finale."
Marcus stepped back, flexing his bruised knuckles. Alex hung between his captors, blood dripping onto the marble floor.
Sophia crouched down in front of him, her designer heels clicking. Her face was inches from his, close enough that he could smell her expensive perfume mixed with his own blood.
"Alex, you were so sweet. So naive. So desperate to believe someone like me could love someone like you." Her voice was soft, almost tender, which made it infinitely crueler. "Thank you for the most entertaining three months of my life."
She stood up, smoothing her dress. "Oh, and all those gifts you gave me? The flowers, the chocolates, that cute little necklace you saved up for? I donated them all to charity. Seemed appropriate, don't you think?"
Security appeared - not to help Alex, but to escort him out. They dragged him through the service entrance like garbage, his blood leaving a trail on pristine floors.
Alex stumbled through empty campus streets, each breath sending fire through his broken ribs. His face was already swelling, one eye nearly shut. The borrowed suit was ruined, soaked in blood and humiliation.
'I have no one to call. No one who'd want to help me after what I did to them defending her.'
He collapsed on a bench six blocks from campus, consciousness fading in and out. A janitor found him three hours later and called an ambulance.
The emergency room was bright and sterile. A tired nurse stitched up his lip while explaining the damage - minor concussion, three cracked ribs, extensive bruising. She asked if he wanted to press charges.
Alex stared at the ceiling through swollen eyes. Press charges against a Steele? A Blackwood? A Vanderbilt? They owned judges. They owned the police. They owned everything, including the right to destroy people like him for entertainment.
His phone was dead. Even if it worked, who would he call? Danny, who he'd screamed at for trying to warn him? Sarah, who he'd blown off for three months to spend time with Sophia?
'I'm completely alone. Just like I always was.'
As Alex lay in the hospital bed, tasting blood and defeat, something strange happened. A voice echoed in his head - mechanical, cold, but somehow real.
"Trauma threshold reached. Emotional devastation: Maximum level. Revenge potential: Unlimited. System activation... beginning."