Nobody thought Julian Thorne and I made sense together. He was the campus god—sculpted features, brilliant mind, full scholarship. I was just Harper Vance—plain, average, and cursed with a stutter. But Julian gave me the kind of respect and love I’d only ever read about in books. So, I treasured him. I worshipped the ground he walked on. That was, until I walked into a café and saw my father sliding a black Amex card across the table to him. "Thank you for taking care of her these past two years. Harper has become much more confident. This bonus is what we agreed upon." Julian took the card without hesitation. He smiled, a cold, calculated smile I’d never seen before. "I'm raising my rates this year, Mr. Vance. You know how it is—she’s demanding more and more of my emotional labor these days." In that moment, I realized that "love" could indeed be a performance art. I didn't storm in. I didn't scream. I continued to date him, pretending nothing had changed. In fact, I "loved" him even harder than before. Because before I left for grad school in London, I wanted to see if I could play the game too. I wanted to see if I could become the hunter. 1 In the dimly lit corner of the café, I froze. I had ghosted into a booth partially hidden by a decorative partition, purely by instinct. I shouldn't have been there, but seeing my father and my boyfriend sitting together was too bizarre to ignore. "Thank you for taking care of her these past two years. Harper has become much more confident. This bonus is what we agreed upon." I stared blankly at them. My mind was a hurricane of confusion. Thoughts swirled like autumn leaves in a gale, impossible to catch. My father’s voice continued. "She’s been insecure since she was a little girl. I didn't have any other choice but to find you." Julian smiled, his fingers deftly sliding the black card into his palm. He rubbed the surface of the card thoughtfully. "I’ve always been curious, sir. Why me?" Dad hesitated, then sighed. "I saw a photo of you giving the freshman orientation speech on her lock screen. I looked into you—you were brilliant, popular, dazzling. She liked you." "I didn't want to see Harper trapped in her shell forever. So, I came up with this... arrangement. I hired you to date her. I wanted her to feel a pure love, one untethered by family obligation or pity." Julian lowered his lashes, masking his eyes. Dad watched him carefully, then asked tentatively, "Julian... after two years, what do you actually think of her?" Julian laughed. But the laughter didn't reach his eyes. It sent a chill down my spine. "Mr. Vance, let’s be real. What exists between Harper and me is a transaction maintained by currency. Since it's business, let's not complicate it with sentiment, shall we?" Dad’s face fell. "I see. I overstepped." "By the way." Julian tapped the card on the mahogany table. Click. "I’m raising my fee this year. You know how it is. She’s getting clingy. She eats up a lot of my private time and demands a lot of emotional value." ... I sat there, paralyzed. Julian’s voice slithered into my ears like a viper. I watched his elegant fingers playing with the bank card—fingers that had warmed my hands just last night. Now, they were putting a price tag on my heart. They were negotiating the cost of loving me like they were buying a used car. The café buzz faded into white noise. All I felt was a piercing, suffocating humiliation. I wanted to run, but my legs were lead. Every ounce of strength drained from my body, leaving behind a hollow shell. Our relationship had always been a mismatch. He was the golden boy of Whitmore University. I was the rich girl with the stutter. I barely spoke in public. I was terrified of judgment. When Julian first approached me, I was terrified. But he encouraged me. He was patient. When he confessed his love, I thought I was dreaming. I often wondered: Why? Why would a god look at a mortal like me? Why did he rarely kiss me, rarely touch me beyond holding hands? Now I had my answer. 2 Sitting opposite my father, Julian was a stranger. His expression was indifferent, detached. He had two faces. I couldn't help but think of yesterday. It was ironic. Yesterday was Julian's birthday. I had spent nights learning to bake. I wasted pounds of flour and sugar, failing over and over until I got it right. I stood in the freezing wind outside his dorm for two hours, holding the perfect cake, until he finally rushed back from his "tutoring gig." Under the streetlights, he ran to me. He stopped, breathless. "It's freezing. Why didn't you wait inside?" He rubbed my cold hands, glancing at the box. "What's this?" I flushed. "It... It's a c-cake. I m-made it." He looked genuinely surprised. "You made this? By yourself?" The frosting had melted slightly, but the strawberry heart was still bright red. "Yeah." My palms were sweating despite the cold. Julian cupped my frozen face in his warm hands, looking at me like I was the most precious thing in the world. "Thank you." I felt my face burn. My stutter flared up. "Julian, H-Happy... B-Birthday." He smiled. Not mocking, just gentle. "It's okay. Take your time, Harper. Say it again?" I hesitated. "I want to hear it," he whispered. "Can you say it for me?" His gaze was intense. He seemed to glow. I took a breath and forced the words out, one by one. "Julian. Happy. Birthday. I hope... you are always... happy." He looked down at me, his long lashes casting shadows over his eyes. Then he pulled me into a hug. His heart was racing. "Thank you," he rasped, wiping a tear from my cheek. "Why are you crying?" I hadn't realized I was. He kissed the tear away. But when he leaned in toward my lips, he tilted his head at the last second, kissing my cheek instead. He’d done it a thousand times. I thought it was respect. Now I knew. A hunter doesn't kiss the prey. He never loved me. He was just a method actor. And God, he deserved an Oscar. 3 I clenched my jaw, trying to hold back the scream building in my chest. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the hem of my coat. Dad and Julian left the café separately. I sat there until a waitress touched my shoulder. "Miss? Are you okay?" I realized my face was wet. "I'm fine." I wiped the tears away and walked out. When I got home, Dad was wearing an apron, cooking. To the world, he was a shark. At home, he was just a dad. Mom died when I was little, and he never remarried. He loved me. He bullied the school board when I was teased. He bought me extravagant gifts. He tried to understand my generation. And he hired someone to love me because he wanted me to be confident. He was wrong. But I couldn't hate him. "Harper, you're home!" Dad turned, spatula in hand. "I made your favorite—sweet and sour ribs." I sat at the table, staring at the feast. My eyes burned. "Dad." He sat down. "What's wrong, honey?" "That offer... to send me to grad school in London. Is it still on the table?" Dad froze. He looked at me in disbelief. "I thought you refused to go?" I smiled at him. It was a broken, jagged smile. "Dad. I saw you this afternoon. At the café." 4 We talked until midnight. Dad took off his glasses, looking suddenly old and defeated. "I'm sorry, Harper. I just wanted you to be happy." "But Dad, fake love expires. It can't withstand reality. I don't need that kind of charity." He was silent for a long time, then he hugged me. "Okay. You're going to London. What about Julian?" "I'll handle him." ... Julian lied to me, but my father had paved the road for him. I planned to break up with him cleanly. But then I walked past a lecture hall and saw him with a girl. She looked young, maybe sixteen. She looked exactly like him. "Jade, why are you here?" "Bro, are you still dating that rich girl?" the girl demanded. Julian leaned against a desk, looking out the window. I couldn't see his face, but I heard the sneer. "Yeah. Her dad pays well." Jade eyed him suspiciously. "You didn't actually fall for her, did you?" "Are you kidding?" Julian turned, his face twisted in annoyance. "Good," Jade huffed. "The Vance family's construction company built that site where Dad died. If it wasn't for the settlement money, we'd have starved, but it wasn't enough! I hate rich people like them." Julian was silent. Jade sat on the desk. "You said you were going to make her fall in love with you and then dump her brutally. How's that going?" Julian laughed. It was a dark, mocking sound. "She's already obsessed with me. She sits with me while I study, brings me coffee... she even baked me a lopsided cake for my birthday." Jade burst out laughing. "A billionaire's daughter begging for your attention? Bro, you're a legend! What's the use of money if she's pathetic?" Julian picked up a piece of chalk and crushed it against the desk. Snap. "She's just an annoying little stutterer that nobody wants." 5 I don't remember walking out of that building. The sunlight hit my face, but I felt cold. The conversation played on a loop in my head. I thought Julian just didn't love me. I was wrong. He loathed me. He was planning to destroy me. He wanted to watch me fall apart. The sadness evaporated, replaced by a cold, hard rage. I wanted revenge. I wanted to treat him exactly the way he treated me. ... I took a day to compose myself. When I saw Julian again, I was the same shy, adoring girlfriend. He handed me a thermos. "You didn't text all day. Are you sick?" I smiled. "J-Just tired. I'm b-better now." He felt my forehead. I swatted his hand playfully. "Don't you trust me?" He laughed. "My bad." I tugged his sleeve. "No class this afternoon. Let's go shopping?" "Sure." The mall was crowded. We were heading for a boba shop when a man blocked our path. He glared at Julian. "It is you! You're the little gigolo messing with my wife!" Julian shielded me. "Excuse me?" "Don't play dumb! You tutor my son, but I saw the ring cam footage! You and my wife, all over each other at the door!" The man lunged for Julian's collar. I shoved the man back. "Stop! My boyfriend w-would never!" The man stumbled, enraged. He swung his hand without looking. Smack. He slapped me. Hard. My chin throbbed instantly. Julian froze. He pulled me behind him, staring at the red mark on my face. His eyes were filled with panic and guilt. I watched him closely. God, he should really be in Hollywood. Julian clenched his fist, ready to fight. Passersby started yelling, threatening to call the cops. The man panicked and ran off into the crowd. Julian wanted to chase him. I grabbed his wrist. "Julian, it hurts."
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