My boyfriend, William Hartwell, was suddenly involved in a car accident and rushed to the hospital. My classmates were busy donating money, but I acted as if nothing had happened. William's sister found her way to campus, her eyes red-rimmed. "Sister Beth," she pleaded, her voice trembling, "our family isn't well-off. Could you please release the money my brother saved with you over the years to help with the emergency?" I kept my expression neutral. "The money he saved? It's long gone." The girl's tears flowed. "My brother's monthly living expenses were $1500. He transferred $1200 to you every month, saving just $300 for himself. And that doesn't even count the money from his part-time jobs. He borrowed money from me several times, begging me to keep it from our parents..." "You're his girlfriend, can't you help him when he's in dire need?" Just then, William's roommate stepped forward, corroborating the girl's story. Yet, I maintained my stance: there was no money. Once William regained consciousness, he demanded a breakup, and everyone supported him. Facing their collective condemnation, I pulled out the transaction records from our two years together. 1 The girl's T-shirt had frayed edges, clearly marking her as someone from a modest background. She swallowed hard, looking at me, and then spoke amidst the whispers of the gathered students. "Beth," she began, her voice barely audible, "could you please release the money my brother kept with you? It's needed urgently." "Mom has borrowed everything she possibly could, but we're still short..." "I know my brother has been putting money aside with you since the beginning of college." I frowned, unmoved by her pitiable appearance. "The money he saved is already spent." My face remained impassive, but the girl's eyes immediately welled up. "Spent? How is that possible?" Her voice cracked with disbelief. "My brother started dating you in his freshman year. That's almost four years now. His $1500 monthly allowance? He transferred $1200 to you, leaving him with only $300 for meals." "Not to mention his part-time jobs. All that money went into your shared 'little piggy bank.' That must be tens of thousands by now! How could it possibly be all gone?!" "There were times he was so broke he couldn't afford to eat, and he had to borrow from me. He even made me promise not to tell our parents, which is how I know." "Please, I know this is inappropriate and I haven't even gotten my brother's permission, but as his girlfriend, can't you show a little compassion?" She hunched slightly, tugging at the hem of my shirt, tears pooling in her eyes. A heavy silence fell over the room. "Wait... I thought William was on a scholarship? I didn't realize he had that much spending money!" "Yeah, he always seemed so frugal... I actually thought Beth was a good person, not like those other materialistic girls... So William's money was all with Beth?" "Oh my gosh, I always assumed Beth came from a wealthy family! So she was just spending William's hard-earned savings?" Gasps and incredulous murmurs rippled through the crowd. I shot a sharp look at them. "It's just one person's word against mine. What right do you have to speculate about me?" I turned back to the girl. "I told you, your brother has no money saved with me. Stop bothering me with this nonsense. Everyone has their own fate." My voice was flat, devoid of any emotion. Clap. Clap. Clap. The sound of applause broke the stillness. Liam Davis, William's roommate, clapped slowly, a look of pure mockery on his face. "Well said, 'everyone has their own fate.'" "Others might not know, but we, his roommates, certainly do." "I saw William transfer his money the moment he got his allowance every month. It was going to you, wasn't it?" "Look at your clothes, your shoes – all designer labels. And William? To save money, he wears $10 fast-fashion shirts and shoes that are falling apart because he refuses to buy new ones!" "Now that he's in trouble and needs money, you're trying to wash your hands of him? Do you take us all for fools?" Liam's words hit everyone like a physical blow, leaving them stunned. Unlike the tearful girl, Liam was our class representative. He was known for his diligence, responsibility, and gentle demeanor. No one had ever seen him this angry. His eyes were wide with fury. "Do you even know William got into that accident while rushing to a part-time job to buy you a birthday gift?" The classmates who had been wavering now firmly believed the accusations. "Damn, I never thought Beth could be this kind of person." "How could she? Shouldn't couples split expenses? She's just too greedy!" Facing the chorus of accusations, I merely scoffed and walked out of the chaotic classroom. Little did I know, my phone would soon be flooded with messages. 2 Amidst the barrage of hateful messages, the first coherent one was from a close friend at the university. "Beth, you need to see this... check the gossip wall. What exactly is going on?" This friend usually paid no mind to campus drama, but her urging me to check the gossip wall indicated the severity of the situation. I opened my social media feed and quickly found the post that had gone viral. "We are Beth's roommates. Acting on behalf of concerned parties, we are sharing these photos (attached)." "We find it incredibly difficult to believe that one of our own roommates could be so heartless, selfish, and greedy." The nine photos displayed a collection of designer bags and exquisite gifts, each seemingly worth a fortune. They specifically highlighted a teddy bear charm: "We looked this up. It's barely the size of a thumb and costs $800. Beth owns five of them." "From what we understand, Beth's family isn't wealthy." "So where the money for these luxury items comes from is obvious. We only learned the details today. William loved you and wanted to save together, and this is how you treated your shared assets?" "Especially now, when he's in danger, and you remain indifferent. By exposing this, we want to make it clear we no longer want to be your roommates." The post sparked a massive discussion. Someone explained the backstory, igniting further outrage among the students. "Damn, this girl is so selfish!" "Seriously, couples should never mix finances." "God, how could he bear it? That guy is so thin, and she spends money so lavishly, like a parasite..." "This is terrifying. I'm afraid to date now, worried I'll just be an ATM machine." "It's so easy for women to make money. If I were a woman dating ten guys, how rich would I be?" "She has money for $800 charms and $5000 bags, but not enough to treat her boyfriend when he's hurt? Drowned in vanity." "I heard her boyfriend got hurt because of her." Compared to the private messages, the comment section seemed almost tame, filled mostly with sharp, critical remarks. The floodgates truly opened with the friend requests. The messages that couldn't be explicitly stated, the ones that wouldn't pass moderation, were replaced with homophones, synonyms, and thinly veiled insults, hurled at me like venom. People were quick to judge, fueled by hearsay rather than facts. Some guys were particularly vicious, completely embodying William's role and rallying in righteous indignation, despite having no personal experience with the situation. When I returned to my dorm, I found my clothes and bags dumped on the floor, covered in dust. Some of my sheer blouses had new tears, and my handbag bore noticeable scratches. The three occupants of the room were engrossed in their phones and makeup, acting as if I didn't exist. My expression hardened. "You've damaged my property. I can call the police." Sarah, the one applying makeup, didn't even glance away from her mirror. "Go ahead, call the cops. While you're at it, maybe they can figure out where all your stuff actually comes from, whose money you spent. Let's see who owes whom." Her tone dripped with contempt, showing not a shred of guilt. Another roommate chimed in, "Heh. So that's why you were always flaunting those new purchases. Turns out you were living off someone else's hard-earned cash. No wonder you treat it so carelessly." She drawled, kicking her legs up nonchalantly. The third roommate simply ignored me altogether. Seeing their brazen indifference, I stopped talking and walked straight to their closets. 3 I grabbed a pair of scissors and began cutting their clothes. One by one. By the time the room descended into a chaotic mess of shredded fabric, they finally noticed my actions. "What the hell?! Are you crazy? What are you doing?" "Why are you touching my stuff?! That dress was saved up for a month! You pay for this!!!" "Holy crap, that's my idol's brand! I paid a fortune for that! You bitch!!" They lunged at me, claws out. I turned and fled the dorm, locking the door behind me. Unable to return to the dorm, I checked into a hotel near campus. Predictably, a call from my academic advisor summoned me to their office not long after. Upon arrival, I saw the three girls huddled in a corner, their faces filled with accusatory glares the moment they spotted me. The advisor tapped lightly on the desk, taking a sip of tea. Their eyes, magnified behind narrow glasses, scanned me with an intense, scrutinizing gaze. "Beth Hayes, is it? I know who you are." "The one from Computer Science who loves dressing up. Hard to forget." "But you need to understand, students come to university to learn, not to compare or to indulge in vanity." "Regarding the damage to your roommates' property, they have each itemized their losses." "If you refuse to compensate them, then I can't help but issue a major disciplinary mark on your record." "This will significantly impact your eligibility for graduate studies and honors programs." "As for the recent scandal making waves, I've heard about it. We can't jump to conclusions, but I must remind you: you cannot act recklessly just because someone likes you." "Beauty isn't everything; kindness and consideration for others are what make a girl truly admirable. For that young man to treat you so well, and for you to act this way... it's truly disheartening." "It's no wonder people increasingly criticize today's women. People like you deserve it." The words echoed in the empty office, drilling into my ears. I pursed my lips. "Do you believe everything you hear?" "As an advisor, you should at least strive for fairness. If this is just a one-sided accusation, then you can discipline me however you see fit. Why did you even call me here?" The advisor clearly didn't appreciate my defiance. The teacup slammed onto the desk with a heavy thud. "Aren't you quite wealthy? I'm now telling you to compensate for the damages within a specified timeframe, and to return William's money to him. Otherwise, I'll have to contact your parents to settle the debt." "We have your parents' phone numbers on file. If you're not going to be sensible, we'll have to involve someone who is." Though seated, their ingrained air of authority projected a condescending threat. My expression remained placid. "Go ahead and contact them if you wish." The advisor stared at me, their voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "Let me reiterate: a disciplinary mark will absolutely affect your graduate school prospects. Our university does not admit individuals with poor character like yours." A knot tightened in my chest. They wouldn't investigate, they wouldn't seek the truth, they simply judged based on hearsay. I hadn't expected this from a faculty member. I lowered my gaze. "Oh. Then let it affect it." I turned and walked towards the door. If my efforts were to be erased because of this, then so be it. I didn't want that opportunity anyway. 4 The university organized a donation drive for William. Afterward, we were all called to visit him. Only twenty students from our class were required to attend, but for some reason, I was included. Upon arrival, I understood. It wasn't just students and faculty from our school; a popular online blogger was also present. They clearly wanted me there to manufacture public opinion. William had stabilized after treatment and was out of critical danger. He lay in bed, his gaze finding mine through the crowd. He had always been thin, practically skin and bones. His post-surgery, pale face made him look especially frail. Classmates approached him one by one, offering words of concern. William's sister stood in a corner, her eyes burning with animosity and resentment as she looked at me. "Who invited you? I don't want to see you." She pointed at me, tears threatening to spill. The blogger, sensing fresh material, immediately swung the camera towards me. The classmates parted like the Red Sea, leaving a wide, empty space around me. William sighed, pulling his sister's sleeve. "We need to break up." He looked at me, his eyes utterly devoid of light. "William!" His sister stomped her foot in distress. "Even if you're breaking up, shouldn't she at least return your money? All the money you worked hard for and saved, why should she just spend it?" "Seeing her makes me sick! It's your money, why should it be wasted on someone so heartless?" William looked conflicted, his gaze filled with disappointment. "I never expected you to be this kind of person, but we did love each other once." "I don't want to dwell on it. Just calculate the money, like my sister said. I don't want it all, just half." "I'll give you a month to return it. Then we go our separate ways." The classmates erupted in indignation. "Why only half? If she has to pay, she should pay it all! Do you still have feelings for someone like that?" "She just takes advantage of your kind heart, how you always doted on her. And this is how she repays you!" "May that gold-digger die a horrible death!" The blogger, meanwhile, was urging viewers in their livestream not to use foul language. Sarah, my roommate, gave me a shove. Off balance, I stumbled forward. "Calculate it properly!!" "Yeah! Calculate it!" The hateful voices grew louder. Seeing William's performative struggle, I fought back the urge to gag. "Fine. Let's calculate it."
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