He managed a shaky, "Lily, I... I'm sorry. I never thought she'd actually... you know, from that night."
Turns out, he knew the truth after that bit of while.
Turns out, it wasn't hard for him to figure out the real story.
I scoffed, "What? As long as she survived, your little game was fine? How much money do you need to stop these cruel games?"
These games, they belong in thrillers, not real life, where trust funds play with lives.
Alex and I, we're new to big money. Sure, we hit a million on streams, but the real cut? Just a slice. Costs of glam giveaways, hosts, platform cuts—it adds up.
He failed to see, bigger broadcasts meant bigger risks for a startup like ours, teetering between chance and collapse.
Some small tricks he encountered like someone cashing in his fame might lead to the destruction of our company.
He bit his lip and tried to defend himself, "I was drunk, got carried away with the cheers..."
I almost laughed, "Got carried away? She loved you like her own. Couldn't you, at the very least, treat her with basic decency? Remember when we were nobodies and you stood up for what's right? What happened to that guy?"
I thought I was numb to the pain, but the memories stung, bringing fresh tears.
He was a mess, scrambling for words, "I... I didn't mean for this."
I'd held back these words for so long, but now they poured out, "This game, this test of yours—if it was just that and you were so absurd like that, she passed when she said she would go get you, right? Why push her to actually show up that night?"
