I knew something was wrong before I even opened my eyes.
My phone was vibrating.
Not once.
Not twice.
Nonstop.
I groaned and reached for it on my bedside table, half asleep, expecting maybe Maya spamming me with memes from the gala.
Instead, my screen was a wall of notifications.
Missed calls (12)
Messages (34)
Unknown numbers (17)
And at the top…
WESTBRIDGE GOSSIP – NEW POST
My stomach dropped awake before the rest of me did.
I tapped it.
And the world ended in one photograph.
It was taken from outside. Zoomed. Slightly grainy.
But clear enough.
Me and Adrian on the palace balcony.
Close.
Too close.
His hand near mine. My face turned toward him. The city lights glowing behind us like something out of a movie.
It didn't look like a study partnership.
It looked like a moment.
The caption read:
"BALCONY SCENE AT THE PALACE 👀 Scholarship girl and Prince Adrian alone during the gala. This is NOT just a school project anymore… #RoyalRomance #PalaceSecret"
My chest tightened so hard I couldn't breathe for a second.
"No, no, no…" I whispered.
The comments were worse.
"She planned this from day one."
"How did she even get invited??"
"Security needs to investigate her background."
"Future queen or future scandal?"
My hands started shaking.
A new notification appeared.
NEWS ALERT
Not school gossip.
Actual news.
I tapped it with numb fingers.
The same photo.
Different headline.
"Mystery Girl Spotted in Intimate Moment with Crown Prince at Royal Gala"
Intimate.
I felt sick.
"Lara."
I looked up.
Maya stood in my doorway, already dressed, her face pale. "Please tell me you've seen it."
"I've seen it," I croaked.
She came and sat beside me on the bed. "It's everywhere. Not just school pages. Real blogs. Entertainment sites."
"I didn't do anything," I said, my voice breaking. "We were just talking."
"I know," she said quickly. "I know. But the internet doesn't care about facts. It cares about drama."
My phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number: Stay away from him.
Unknown Number: You think you can steal a prince?
I turned the screen off.
"I want to go home," I whispered.
At the palace, things were worse.
Adrian stood in a private meeting room, staring at the photo displayed on a tablet in front of him.
The King's expression was carved from stone.
"This," he said, "is exactly what we warned you about."
"We were talking," Adrian said tightly. "That's all."
"In private. On a balcony. During a royal event."
"She was invited!"
"And now," the King continued, ignoring him, "the narrative is out of our control."
Queen Eleanor looked at the image again, concern in her eyes. "She looks frightened."
"She should never have been there," the King said. "This connection must end. Immediately."
Adrian's head snapped up. "You don't get to decide that."
"I am the King. I decide everything that affects the Crown."
"This affects a person!" Adrian shot back. "A real one. Not a headline."
The King's voice hardened. "You will release a statement today."
Adrian's stomach dropped. "What kind of statement?"
"One clarifying that the young woman is simply a fellow student. Nothing more. No personal relationship."
Every word felt like a betrayal.
"She'll be torn apart," Adrian said quietly. "They'll say she imagined everything."
"Better that than letting the public think the future king is romantically involved with an unknown girl whose background we haven't even finished reviewing."
Adrian froze. "You're investigating her?"
"We investigate everyone who gets close to you."
Rage flared in his chest. "She's not a threat!"
"That," the King said coldly, "is not your decision to make."
Back at school, I learned what it felt like to be famous for the worst reason.
Every hallway went silent when I walked through.
People stared openly now.
Phones weren't even hidden anymore.
I kept my head down, moving fast, but whispers followed me like shadows.
"That's her."
"She looks different in real life."
"She's brave, I'll give her that."
Brave.
I felt like I was falling apart.
By lunchtime, reporters were outside the academy gates.
Actual reporters.
Cameras. Microphones. Waiting.
For me.
Principal Hawthorne called me in again.
"This has escalated beyond school jurisdiction," he said carefully. "You are not in trouble. But for your safety, we recommend you leave campus through the staff exit for a few days."
"So I'm in hiding," I said numbly.
"For your protection," he corrected.
Protection felt a lot like punishment.
That evening, my phone buzzed with a message that made my heart ache.
Adrian:
I'm so sorry.
Tears blurred my vision.
I typed back.
Lara:
I can't do this.
Three dots appeared instantly.
Adrian:
I know.
That hurt more than if he'd argued.
Lara:
They're outside my school. Reporters. I didn't sign up for this life.
A long pause.
Then—
Adrian:
Neither did I.
I stared at the words.
For the first time, I realized something terrifying.
This wasn't just hard for me.
It was breaking him too.
Adrian:
They want me to make a statement. To say we're nothing.
My chest tightened.
Lara:
Maybe you should.
The typing bubble disappeared.
Came back.
Disappeared again.
Finally—
Adrian:
Is that what you want?
Tears slipped down my cheeks.
No.
But maybe it was what we needed.
Lara:
I don't want to be the reason your whole country hates you.
His reply came slower this time.
Adrian:
I don't want a country that decides who I'm allowed to care about.
That broke me completely.
But love — or whatever this was becoming — wasn't supposed to feel like a battlefield.
Lara:
Maybe we were never meant to be more than a library conversation.
The message showed as delivered.
Not read.
I waited.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Nothing.
Then my phone buzzed with a news alert.
"PALACE STATEMENT EXPECTED TONIGHT REGARDING PRINCE ADRIAN'S 'MYSTERY GIRL'"
I turned off my phone and pressed it against my chest, like I could hold my heart together physically.
Somewhere across the city, in a palace full of gold and rules…
A prince was about to tell the world I meant nothing.
And the worst part?
I was the one who asked him to.