One mont, rlina had been walking hand in hand with Craig down Avenue de Camoens, now, barely twelve hours later, she was back in the narrow hallway of Belford’s dormitory.
Her little suitcase bumping over the scratched linoleum floor as she reached her door.
She knocked once. Then waited. The door creaked open an inch before the third knock even fully landed.
Phoebe stood in the doorway, one arm crossed tightly under the other. Her gaze swept over rlina with quiet judgent.
No greeting.
Just an eye roll sharp enough to slice through the silence, then she stepped aside without a word.
rlina hesitated, the handle of her suitcase suddenly heavy in her grip, she dragged it in and shut the door behind her.
gan was curled up on her bed, legs tucked beneath her, scrolling through her phone. She didn’t even glance up.
"Hey," rlina said quietly.
But nothing.
Just the faint buzz of gan’s phone vibrating against the blanket.
rlina let out a breath and set her suitcase by her desk. "Okay. How long are you guys going to give the silent treatnt?"
Still nothing.
She ran a hand through her hair, voice tight. "Look, I know what I did was wrong. I should’ve been honest. I just... I didn’t know how. But can we at least talk about it?"
gan’s thumb kept scrolling. Phoebe crossed her arms a little tighter.
And rlina waited.
She waited a beat longer than she should have. Then she shook her head softly, a glint of quiet hurt in her eyes. A soft breath, a sad, resigned exhale escaped. She dropped her bag onto the chair with a dull thud.
Shoulders squared but heavy, she grabbed her towel and toiletry pouch and walked toward the bathroom without another word.
The door clicked shut, and a mont later, the shower hissed to life.
In the room, silence thickened. Phoebe stared at rlina’s phone lying face down on the desk, mockingly casual, like it had nothing to hide.
Her arms remained crossed, but her fingers twitched. A long mont passed. She told herself she wasn’t this kind of person. She didn’t snoop, didn’t go looking for things she wasn’t supposed to see.
But rlina had been lying to them. Again and again. And maybe, just maybe, they deserved to know the real truth, even if this wasn’t the way to get it.
Phoebe uncrossed her arms, walked across the room and picked it up.
gan looked up now, slowly. "What are you doing?"
Phoebe didn’t answer right away. She flipped rlina’s phone over, pressed the screen until it lit up.
Locked.
"Phoebe?" gan called again, sharper this ti.
"Relax," Phoebe murmured, barely looking up. "I just wanna know what she’s been up to."
"That’s literally trespassing," gan muttered. "You realize that, right?"
But Phoebe was already typing. The lock screen slid away without a hitch.
"You know, I’ve known her password since forever," she said under her breath, her eyes beginning to move. "Just never thought of looking until now."
She swiped once. Then again.
And again.
Her thumb froze mid-motion.
For a second, she didn’t breathe.
"Oh. My. God." She turned the phone toward gan like it was proof in a trial. Her voice was small, almost disbelieving. "Look."
There it was.
A photo, bright and painfully recent. Taken just a day ago.
The Eiffel Tower glittered in the background, golden and dreamy, like sothing plucked from a fairytale. And in the foreground, were rlina and Craig. Cheeks pressed together, smiling like they had nothing to hide.
Behind her, gan sat up slowly, frowning. "Wait... when was that taken?"
Phoebe squinted at the tistamp. "Yesterday. Literally yesterday. She was with him. In Paris."
She didn’t stop there, she kept swiping, each image hurt more than the last.
Another photo, Craig kissing rlina’s cheek, rlina laughing into his neck, their hands intertwined as they made a heart shape with their fingers, against the backdrop of the Seine.
The kind of photos people posted when they weren’t hiding anymore. When they were sure.
gan looked stunned. "He flew her to Paris?"
Phoebe nodded, jaw tight. "This is...deep, gan."
She shifted closer, turning the phone toward gan. A whole album of them, the soft kind of intimacy that didn’t need rehearsing.
gan recoiled slightly, unable to keep looking. "She’s actually shaless."
"Yup." Phoebe didn’t even sound surprised anymore. Just tired.
Still holding the phone, she opened the ssages app.
Nothing.
No texts between them. Just a blank slate where there should’ve been sothing. Her brow furrowed.
Then, without thinking, she tapped into Instagram. Scrolled to Craig’s na. Opened the DMs.
And stilled.
Their thread was long, it went back months. A private world built quietly, ssage by ssage. Check-ins from Craig. Short replies from rlina.
ssages from Craig saying he wasn’t trying to complicate things, Phoebe couldn’t quite understand.
She kept scrolling, until one ssage stopped her cold.
Craig: I didn’t imagine it, right? The way you lted into when we kissed... that was real.
Phoebe’s eyes widened. Her thumb hovered, then tapped the tistamp.
December 10th. Weeks before Adriana and Craig had officially broken up.
Phoebe’s stomach twisted. She had never felt more foolish. All this ti, rlina had been right there, sleeping across the room, acting like nothing was going on, while this was happening behind their backs.
Phoebe scrolled slowly, her face pale. "This isn’t new gan. They’ve been intimate this whole ti. Even when we thought they hated each other."
gan looked up from her phone, and shook her head, "You know, at least Craig had the decency of breaking up with Adriana, how long was rlina going to lead Louis on?"
Just then, Phoebe head a noise from the bathroom, with the speed of lightning, she dropped rlina’s phone back onto the desk and spun on her heel, crossed the room in a few quick strides, and sank onto her bed with the innocence of soone who hadn’t just uncovered a deep buried secret.
gan adjusted her blanket, eyes flicking back to her phone, though her body had tensed.
The door opened.
rlina stepped out in her bathrobe, damp hair curling slightly at the ends. She paused as both girls looked up at her. They weren’t speaking, just watching.
Her grip on her toiletry pouch tightened. "What?" she asked, voice low, tired.
No answer.
rlina sighed and turned toward her dresser. The silence pressed in again, heavier than steam. There was nothing colder than being frozen out by people you lived with, ate with, laughed with, every single day.
She fumbled for a change of clothes, the awkward quiet stretching.
Then Phoebe’s voice sliced through it.
"So, rlina," she said, faux-casual, "how long have you been fucking Craig Lesnar?"
rlina stilled. She turned, slowly, an exhausted expression on her face.
"Don’t look at like that." Phoebe said, smile sharp. "You said you wanted to talk. I want to talk about how long you’ve been screwing Craig Lesnar behind everyone’s backs, while you were still pretending to date Louis."
"At least be honest with us," gan added, her tone quieter but no less hurt. "We deserve that."
rlina’s voice cracked slightly when she answered. "I said I wanted to talk. Just... not like this."
"Not like what?" Phoebe laughed, too loud, too bitter. "Not like two people you live with just found out you’ve been sneaking around for months?"
Phoebe stood abruptly, marched straight to rlina’s dresser, and grabbed the phone again like she had every right to it now.
"You’ve both been at it," she snapped, holding the screen up as if it were evidence in a trial. "Craig’s been texting you for months. You’ve been eting up with him. You didn’t say a single thing."
rlina’s breath caught in her throat.
Phoebe’s finger jabbed at the screen. "These ssages? They go way back. Way back. You made us think you hated him. You let us hate him for you."
She tossed the phone onto rlina’s bed like it disgusted her. "God, you guys were together in Spain, weren’t you? That winter break you went MIA. Craig was there."
rlina’s jaw clenched. Her voice ca low, tight. "Wait...you went through my phone?"
Without waiting for a response, she walked over to her bed, slow and controlled, like she was holding sothing in.
Her hand reached for the phone lying between the folds of her blanket. She picked it up, swiped it open without breaking eye contact.
Her lips parted slightly, disbelief written all over her face as her eyes flicked over the open screens. The ssages. The photos. The tabs Phoebe had left behind.
Still no words.
Just the sharp inhale through her nose, the way her fingers tightened around the phone. The way she looked at Phoebe, like she didn’t recognize her.
Phoebe crossed her arms. "Don’t look at like you’re the one who’s been betrayed. We needed answers," Phoebe snapped. "You weren’t giving us any."
"And we found more than answers," gan said. "Paris? Really?"
rlina’s stomach turned. She hadn’t even gotten dressed yet, and the walls were already closing in. "He saw that I was having the worst day. After everything with the press, you both saw what happened. I needed space and he offered."
"Oh, please spare the romantic detour," gan said, folding her arms. "Louis did nothing to you, l. He has been there for you. And you do this? Right now, even when you know what we’re going through?"
rlina looked down. "I didn’t an for it to happen like this."
"No one ever does," gan said flatly. "But unlike you, I can’t sit here and lie. I’m disappointed in you. rlina. Deeply. I don’t even know who you are. But hey, if you feel good flaunting this new thing, with Craig. Go ahead."
Phoebe let out a bitter chuckle. "God, you really think you’re special, huh?"
rlina blinked, stunned. "What?"
"You think you’re different," Phoebe said, rising from her bed now, slow and deliberate. "That what he had with Adriana was fake...and this—" she gestured vaguely, bitterly, "whatever it is between you two...is real?"
She let out a humorless laugh. "But news-flash, rlina. You’re just...a phase. Nothing more."
rlina’s eyes dropped to the floor.
"He’s going to do to you exactly what he did to her." Phoebe took a step closer. Her voice dropped, sharper now, more cruel. "From Adriana...to rlina...and next?" She paused. "Maybe a Sabrina."
The na echoed in the quiet.
rlina stiffened, with her lips parted. She stood frozen, bathrobe cinched tight around her body, a single drop of water sliding down her neck from her damp hair.
Ashad.
That was the word for it.
Because sowhere, deep down beneath her anger, her confusion, and the ss she couldn’t untangle, Phoebe’s words stung. Not because they were entirely true...but because a part of her feared they could be.
rlina swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper now. "You don’t have to say these things to . I ssed up and I know. I should’ve said sothing, but I was scared. I just...I didn’t want to lose you."
"Well," gan said, voice like glass, "maybe you already have."
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