Jasmine's POV
The day the video leaked was the day I died.
Not a death of blood or breath, but of reputation…of every ounce of dignity I'd clawed to build at Crestfall Academy. One upload, one share, one swipe… and I was buried alive beneath a thousand whispers.
"Did you see it? Jasmine's a total fraud!"
The words sliced through the corridor like knives. Laughter followed, cruel and bright, bouncing off polished walls and marble floors.
"Shut up, Mia." I hissed, trying to sound strong, trying to keep my spine straight. But my voice cracked, and their laughter only grew louder.
I froze at the edge of the hall, my backpack strap biting into my palm as I gripped it too tight. The world seemed to tilt, and I already knew what it was.
The video.
My stomach sank to the floor before I even turned to look.
A knot of girls gathered by the lockers, phones glowing like torches in the dark. Their faces were lit with the hunger of gossip, their voices overlapping in shrieks and gasps. I didn't need to push through. I didn't need to see.
But I did.
On the tiny screen, my face appeared…too clear, too sharp, unforgiving.
Me.
In a hotel room.
In a silky dress I'd never owned.
Sitting on the edge of a bed, lips parted, strap sliding down.
And beside me…blurred, half-cropped… was Mr. Langford. The academy's biggest donor. His hand grazing my arm like he owned me.
The camera angle was cruel. The editing seemed sharper than a blade. The message was clear: Jasmine Duvall had slept her way into Crestfall.
Gasps exploded like fireworks. Laughter rippled through the crowd.
"Guess that's how she got her scholarship."
"Scholarship girl? More like a sugar baby girl."
"Wow. And I thought she studied. She's been busy in other ways."
My hands shook. My chest squeezed tight.
"That's not…" My voice cracked, weak, drowned in the noise. "It's fake. It's edited…"
No one cared. Truth was poison, and the lie was already spreading faster than fire.
I forced myself to walk, spine stiff though my knees trembled. Each step was like dragging chains. The stares followed me, whispering, judging, tearing into skin.
Then my eyes caught on him.
Ares.
He stood across the main hall, sunlight streaming through stained glass behind him like he was carved from the golden air itself. Tall, confident, the boy who once held me when I cried, who once called me "minmin" like I was his secret.
My heart swayed against my ribs. For a brief moment, I thought and hoped he would see me. That he'd step forward, shield me, cut through the lies like he always did.
But his laughter rang out, low and easy, as he spoke with his friends. And when his eyes finally found mine, there was no warmth.
Only suspicion.
"Jasmine."
The sound of my name in his voice rooted me in place. Except it wasn't my name as I knew it. It wasn't the nickname whispered against my hair when he swore he loved me. It was cold. Stripped bare.
"It's not what you think," I whispered, grasping the air, desperate. "Ares, please… it's not real. Someone set me up."
His gaze pinned me to the marble like a butterfly under glass. His lips parted as though he wanted to believe… but then I saw it. A flicker of doubt, dark as ink.
"No," I choked. My words scattered. "Don't look at me like that. You know me."
"Look at her," Mia's voice cut from the crowd, shrill, vicious. "The scholarship girl thinks she belongs here? Pretending she's one of us? No wonder she always dressed like that."
Laughter burst again. Someone's shoulder slammed into mine as they passed, sending me crashing against a locker. Pain shot through my arm, but it was nothing compared to the burn inside.
I forced my eyes back to Ares. He was my last anchor. My last chance.
But then Mr. Rowen appeared. A teacher. Authority. Relief surged through me.. surely he would stop this, defend me, remind everyone this was Crestfall, not a mob.
Instead, his eyes moved to the phone, then to me. His lips pressed thin in disappointment. And then he turned, walking away.
Like I wasn't worth defending.
A fresh wave of laughter swallowed me whole.
My body trembled, but desperation shoved me forward. My voice cracked in front of everyone. "Ares. Please. I swear it's not what it looks like. You know I wouldn't…"
His jaw tightened. His voice dropped low, sharp.
"You're in over your head, Jasmine. This isn't some game anymore."
Game.
The word cut me deeper than the laughter.
Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall. My lips moved before my brain could catch them.
"I.. I.." I stammered
"What more do you have to say?" He asked me like an inpatient wolf
"I'm pregnant."
The words tore free like glass from my throat.
The hallway froze. Phones lowered. Gasps spread like ripples in a pond.
My chest heaved, each breath jagged. "A month plus," I forced out. My whole body shook. "It's yours."
Ares's face was drained of color. His friends stared, wide-eyed. Then his expression hardened, steel slamming shut over any softness left.
"No."
The word was ice. Absolute.
"Ares…"
"Don't put this on me." His voice rose, sharp enough to slice me open. "That video says it all. Who knows how many men you've been with? And you expect me to believe this child is mine?"
"No!" My voice cracked, breaking under the weight of the crowd's eyes. "I've only ever… I love you. I love you and you know that."
But he was already shaking his head, cutting me down in front of them all.
His hand lifted slightly… warning, rejection, finality. His eyes, once oceans I drowned in, were storms now.
"We're done, Jasmine. Stay away from me."
The words echoed, smashing through my chest.
Stay away.
Stay away.
The floor tilted. My breath came shallow. My knees wobbled, barely holding me. The faces around me blurred into cruel masks. Phones still recording. Fingers pointing.
The boy I gave everything to. The boy I carried life for. The boy I trusted.
And he tossed me away like I was filth.
"She's disgusting."
"Pregnant? With who?"
"Trash. She'll never belong here."
I shut my eyes, nails digging into my palm until pain sparked. Each whisper was another nail in my coffin.
Crestfall wasn't my future anymore. It was a cage of glass, cracking, closing in until I couldn't breathe.
A thought struck, sharp as lightning.
I couldn't stay here.
Not broken. Not branded.
I had to disappear. To bury this version of me in their ashes. To rise again, sharper, untouchable, unstoppable.
But first, I had to survive this day.
My legs trembled as I pushed off the locker. The weight of a thousand eyes dragged at me, but I kept moving. Step after step. Breath after breath.
The double doors loomed. I shoved them open. Cold air slapped my face like ice water.
Outside, the courtyard stretched wide and empty, sunlight spilling across the stone. Freedom. But not peace.
My chest heaved as I whispered into the wind, words only I could hear:
"I will make them pay."
The vow burned my tongue.
And then…
I froze.
The courtyard was empty. But my skin itched, the fine hairs on my arms rising. The unmistakable weight of a gaze pressed down on me.
Someone was watching.
I turned sharply. At the far gate, a shadow lingered, just out of reach. A figure half-hidden in the glare, still, silent, deliberate.
My pulse spiked.
The figure shifted… then disappeared beyond the iron bars.
My blood ran cold.
This wasn't over.
The video wasn't the end. It was the beginning.
This was the day I died.
And the day my war began.