Chapter 5: Going Viral Again
Haper’s POV
I woke up feeling like I had been hit by a truck.
For several seconds, I just lay there staring at the cracked ceiling above my bed, my body heavy and my mind struggling to catch up with reality. Then the memories came rushing back all at once. Ethan. Chloe. The locker room. My revoked media pass. Justin. The kiss. The fake girlfriend proposal. The humiliation. The heartbreak.
A groan escaped me as I buried my face in my pillow.
Please let yesterday have been a nightmare.
Unfortunately, life hated me.
My phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand. Then again. And again. And again.
Frowning, I reached for it. The second the screen lit up, my stomach dropped. Dozens of notifications. Hundreds. Messages, mentions, tags, comments.
I clicked on the first notification and immediately regretted it.
A video was trending. My video. Well, technically it wasn’t mine. It was a video somebody had secretly recorded outside the hockey locker room yesterday. The clip showed Justin pulling me against his side while Ethan stood there looking furious. It showed Justin calling me his girlfriend. It showed him kissing me. It showed Ethan losing his mind. The video had already gathered hundreds of thousands of views.
My chest tightened. I opened the comments. Big mistake.
"Girl hopped from one hockey player to another in record time."
"So she’s the reason teammates are fighting now?"
"Gold digger."
"Attention seeker."
"She was literally begging Ethan yesterday."
"Justin deserves better."
"She looks desperate."
"I heard she planned this."
"She’s probably sleeping with both of them."
The insults kept coming. Every swipe revealed something worse. Every comment felt like another stone being added to the weight already crushing my chest. By the time I reached the end, my hands were shaking.
I dropped the phone onto my bed as if it had burned me. For a long moment, I just sat there staring at nothing. I wanted to cry again, but I was exhausted. Too exhausted. It felt like I’d cried enough tears for an entire lifetime.
A knock sounded on my bedroom door. "Harper?"
My mother’s weak voice immediately had me sitting up. "I’m awake."
"You’ll be late for class."
My throat tightened. Even sick, she was still worrying about me. Still trying to be a mother when she should have been focusing on herself.
I closed my eyes briefly before forcing myself out of bed. "Coming."
The apartment felt unusually quiet as I got ready. My younger siblings had already left for school, and my mother was resting on the couch with a blanket over her legs. She smiled when she saw me, a tired smile, the kind that made me worry even more.
"You look exhausted."
I laughed softly. "You should see the other guy."
She smiled again, but concern lingered in her eyes. The hospital bills sitting on the kitchen counter caught my attention. My stomach twisted. There were so many. Too many. Every month it got worse. Every month I promised myself things would get better. Every month life found a new way to prove me wrong.
I kissed my mother’s forehead before leaving the apartment.
The moment I stepped onto campus, I knew people had seen the video. Students stared, whispered, pointed. A group of girls glanced in my direction before immediately lowering their voices. A group of guys openly watched me walk past. I kept my head down and forced myself to keep moving, one step, then another, then another.
Eventually I reached the journalism building. My heartbeat accelerated as I climbed the stairs toward Professor Harrison’s office. This was my last chance. Maybe she would allow me to switch projects. Maybe she would make an exception. Maybe there was still a way out. The hope was fragile, tiny, but it was all I had.
I knocked on the office door.
"Come in."
Professor Harrison looked exactly as intimidating as she always did. The woman was in her late fifties, sharp eyed, brutally honest, and completely immune to excuses. She had terrified generations of students. Today was apparently my turn.
"What can I do for you, Harper?"
I sat down slowly. "I need to change my final project."
One eyebrow rose immediately. "Why?"
I swallowed. "My media access was revoked."
The professor’s expression didn’t change. "Explain."
So I did. Not everything. Just enough. I told her my access to the hockey team was gone. I told her I could no longer film practices or interviews. I told her I was stuck.
When I finished, silence settled over the office. Professor Harrison folded her hands on top of her desk. Then she said the words I had been dreading.
"The deadline to change projects passed two weeks ago."
My heart sank. "There has to be something I can do."
"There isn’t." The answer came instantly. No hesitation. No sympathy. No loopholes. Nothing.
I felt panic begin to rise. "Professor, please."
"No."
The single word landed like a hammer. I stared at her. She stared right back, unmoved, unwavering.
"I have worked too hard to get here." My voice cracked despite my best efforts.
"I know."
"My entire graduation depends on this."
"I know."
"I could fail."
"I know."
The calmness in her voice somehow made it worse. Because she wasn’t being cruel. She was simply stating facts.
Professor Harrison leaned forward slightly. "What exactly are you asking me to do, Harper?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it. Because the truth was I didn’t know. I just wanted somebody to save me. Somebody to tell me everything would be okay. Somebody to magically fix the disaster my life had become. But there was nobody. There never was.
The professor sighed. For the first time, her expression softened, only slightly.
"You are one of the hardest working students I have ever taught."
My chest tightened.
"You’ve balanced classes, multiple jobs, family responsibilities, and still maintained excellent grades."
I stared at her. "Then help me."
"I am helping you."
Confusion flickered through me. "What?"
Her eyes hardened again. "Stop looking for a way out."
The words stunned me. Professor Harrison pointed toward the door. "No matter what happened, that project is still your project."
I opened my mouth to argue. She cut me off. "Whatever you have to do to complete it, do it."
Silence filled the room. The words echoed inside my head. Whatever you have to do.
"Professor..."
"No." She shook her head firmly. "You’ve come too far to quit now."
My eyes burned.
"Sometimes people don’t get ideal circumstances." I lowered my gaze. "Sometimes life isn’t fair."
The tears returned. Damn it. Not again.
Professor Harrison continued speaking. "You know what separates successful filmmakers from unsuccessful ones?"
I shook my head.
"They find a way."
My throat tightened painfully.
"Your documentary was selected for university sponsorship because we believed in you."
My stomach dropped. The sponsorship. I had forgotten about the sponsorship.
Professor Harrison’s expression turned serious. "If you abandon the project, that funding disappears."
The air left my lungs. Gone. The money would be gone. The money I’d already planned around. The money I’d desperately needed. The money that could help pay bills. The money that could help my family. The money that could help my mother.
Gone. Just like that.
I sat there feeling completely numb. The walls of the office suddenly felt too small. The room felt too hot. My future felt like it was collapsing right in front of me.
Professor Harrison studied me for several moments before speaking one final time. "Figure it out, Harper."
There was no cruelty in her voice. Only certainty. Because she believed I could.
The problem was that I wasn’t sure I believed it anymore.
A few minutes later, I found myself sitting alone on a bench outside the building. Students passed around me. Classes continued. Life continued. Yet it felt like my world had stopped moving.
I stared down at my phone. One name sat at the top of my recent calls.
Justin Hayes. The hockey captain. The campus bad boy. The arrogant jerk who had kissed me in front of half the university. The same arrogant jerk who had offered me exactly what I needed.
My stomach twisted. This could end horribly. It probably would end horribly. But I was running out of options.
Actually, scratch that. I was out of options.
The realization hit harder than anything Professor Harrison had said. For the first time, I understood just how trapped I really was.
I closed my eyes briefly before unlocking my phone. "I really hope this doesn’t blow up in my face," I muttered.
Then I pressed call.
The line rang once. Twice. Three times. Before a familiar deep voice answered.
"Miss me already?"
Despite everything, I rolled my eyes. "Can we talk?"
A pause. Then his voice softened. "When?"
I swallowed. "Now."
Another pause. "Tell me where you are."
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