Chapter 1

Lena - 2 years later

C ollege is supposed to be easy and fun. The last years of our dying youth, but this doesn't feel fun. In fact, it's been a long time since I was able to feel anything besides empty. The last two years have been riddled with one disappointment after another. Just like the rest of my fucking life.

After my mother very rudely interrupted my impending death on the bathroom floor of her perfect home, she sent me to the hospital to recover. I was barely there for a week. When I got home, I found all of my things packed up. She was ready to send me off to college without a single word.

There was no discussion, no talks of therapy, or questions as to why I did what I did. She simply found me bleeding out on her marble floors, sent me away long enough for the cuts to start healing, and moved on to pretend as though nothing happened. Mental illness does not exist to my parents. Me missing college makes her and my father look weak. We can't have that.

The only plus side of being here is not being in that house with them. My mother checks in every few days to make sure I'm keeping up with my studies, but neither she nor my father ever asks me how I'm doing or brings up trying to kill myself. Not the attempt two years ago or any of the others before that. They just wear their rose-colored glasses and pretend their daughter isn't fucked in the head.

I close my eyes and remember the dark shadowy figure that filled my vision before the darkness consumed me. Something about seeing the partial figure tells me I was close that time. I was only a few seconds away from finding relief from this fucked up world.

Instead, I'm here at this shitty college with a shitty boyfriend and fake-ass friends, pretending I'm happy. I'm good at plastering a fake smile on my face to pretend everything is fine on the outside. People don't want to know about your struggles. Nobody wants to be there for you. I learned that the hard way the day Dani decided Ross meant more than our friendship.

The best part about the entire situation with her was the two of them broke up less than six months later. She tried to call and text me to reconnect, but I simply told her, ‘Sorry, Dani, it's better for everyone if I don't have any connections to Cherry Hill.' I threw the same words she uttered to me right back in her face, and I don't feel bad about it. Even if I could find it in me to forgive her, things would never be the same after how she treated me.

Dani choosing to end our friendship set off a series of events that screamed, ‘Let's fuck over Lena in every way possible.' I've done my best to try to keep my head held high through every single one of them, but I don't think I can do it anymore. Mentally, I'm right on the precipice of where I was when I slit my wrists on the bathroom floor.

My phone pings, and I glance down to see a video text from a phone number I don't recognize. Scratch that—messages—from multiple numbers I don't recognize begin pouring in.

Unknown: I didn't realize how much of a dirty whore you are. The whole campus knows now, though.

Unknown: Fuck, I'd love to see you ride my cock like that.

Unknown: So, you like to choke on dick?

Unknown: I always knew you were a slut.

I can't read any more. What the fuck are they talking about? With shaky fingers, I click on the video, and what I see shocks me to my core. It's me, face down, ass up, being railed from behind as Carson slaps my ass and calls me a needy bitch.

My cheeks redden from embarrassment, and my chest tightens. I take quick breaths, trying to calm myself before dropping my phone and staring at the wall of our apartments living room. The video continues playing, and I hear myself tell him to fuck me harder. Oh my God, this can't be happening.

I don't know what else to do besides pick up the phone and watch the rest of the video, which I'm assuming hundreds of others are also watching at this exact moment. Carson pushes down on the back of my neck, holding me in place with one hand, and slaps my ass with the other.

A fucking sex tape, really? It couldn't be just an innocent, grainy five-second clip, either. This is clear as day, full porn production, with my spread open pussy on display for everyone to see multiple times. The world feels like it's caving in on me. I just want to be invisible.

I'm not ashamed of the way I like to get fucked. I like it dirty, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. What I'm struggling with is the teasing that will come from this. People are cruel. They can't resist the urge to be shitty humans, and this is a huge opportunity for them. I already know I will be the focus of everyone's interests for the next who the hell knows how long. Just the thought makes me cringe.

I was doing so well. I haven't let myself touch a blade in two years, but this right here is too much. The incessant comments that I know will stem from this TWENTY-MINUTE video push me over the edge.

Subconsciously, I stand up like a zombie and walk toward the bathroom. Each step feels feather-light. My mind leads me, and my body blindly follows. He let everyone see me naked and vulnerable. I thought what we had was special. I'm nothing. I'm not worth anything to anyone. The dark thoughts consume me again.

I blink and stare at myself in the mirror, studying my reflection. I don't know how I got here. I'm sure I walked the rest of the way, but I don't remember doing it. My mind operated on autopilot.

I look down at my shaky hands. I need to get my shit together. I told myself this wouldn't happen again. I lift my hand in front of my face and stare at my trembling fingers before glancing back at the familiar vacant shadow of my eyes in the mirror. The bright brown hue they used to carry has already begun to fade again. Dull and empty. Aching and in pain. There's always so much pain. There's always another door being slammed in my face or another person proving they aren't who they seem. The numbness. It's all endless.

I grip the edge of the sink, willing tears to fall, but they don't. If I could just cry, maybe I could let it all out and move on. I glance over my shoulder, and my eyes land on the razor in the corner. I'm fixated on it. I can't force myself to move. I should get out of this bathroom. The faint sound of a door opening and closing makes me blink, bringing back some awareness.

Put it on. Put the mask back on. Don't let anyone know you're struggling. Don't let them see your weaknesses. I step over to the toilet with nothing in it to flush it before standing in front of the sink and washing my hands. I don't need to wash them, but I do anyway. It's the perfect cover for me being in here.

"Lena?" Carson calls out as he heads toward our bathroom. We've had this apartment together since the start of the school year. The year that was supposed to be fun and carefree, yet here I am, heading back into the downward spiral.

"In here!" I call out .

My hands still tremble as I rinse off the rest of the soap. Put the mask back on, Lena. I tell myself as I grab the decorative towel off the hanger to dry my hands.

"Hey, I was wondering where you were." He steps into me and plants a kiss on my cheek.

He let everyone see the look on your face when you come. I push the thought to the back of my mind.

"Just going to the bathroom. Why are you home so early? Did you skip your afternoon class?"

"The professor canceled. Something about her kid. We got the afternoon off, so I figured I would come home to see my pretty girl."

My broken eyes meet his. He knows I know. I can't help but notice the way he stares at me longer than usual.

"Do you want to go get lunch somewhere off campus?" he says while wrapping his hand around my waist.

I have to fight every urge in me to not flinch away. Don't give him a reason to think you aren't okay. Don't think about the razor in the corner that's calling out to you. I place my hand flat on his chest to glance up at him and lie.

"I'm sorry I can't today. I have a few errands to run around town." I don't have errands to run but he can't call me out on the lie without openly admitting what he did.

I could meet up with Lexi, but I don't want to talk about this with anyone yet. Lexi is my best friend. At least to the world, that's who she is. To me, she is just the first person who was nice to me on campus. I've managed to open myself up to her just a smidge more than usual, but she doesn't really know me. Nobody does. Nobody has since Dani. I won't let myself go through something like that ever again.

My phone makes a noise, and I do my best not to look down at it.

Even Carson, my boyfriend for nearly a year, doesn't know me. He only sees the Lena I want him to. The real me is dark, damaged, and unlovable. Everyone thinks he is someone I should covet. ‘He's a keeper. You're thriving with him. You two make such a cute couple. Imagine what your children will look like.' That's what they all say.

Carson is only a keeper because he is the perfect cover. My parents think I'm happy. The friends I entertain think he balances me out. It'll always be fake because nobody like him would ever understand who I really am.

Maybe I don't know him either. I didn't even know he was recording us having sex. How many other videos does he have? I need to get out of here and find somewhere quiet to pull myself together.

"Dinner at Mount Chellos tonight?" Carson says to me, reminding me that I'm still in the room with him.

I step away from his side and peer up to find him looking down at me with the same weary glance he's had since coming home. More texts come through my phone. How the fuck did all of these people even get my phone number? I don't want to go to dinner. I don't want to be around him right now while I try to process this. He won't let up until I agree to something.

"I don't know if I'm in the mood for anything that fancy," I admit.

"Lena, your phone has been going off since I walked into the apartment. I know you saw the video." My jaw clenches, and I avert my eyes from him, refusing to admit that he's right. "Let me make it up to you," he says, trying to stroke my cheek.

"It's fine, really." It's not fine, I think.

"You're not upset with me?" he asks, wrapping his hand around my waist and pulling me into him.

"No, Carson. I don't want to talk about it right now either. I'm on edge. You know I need to make sure my anxiety doesn't get the best of me. It's better if I just forget about it."

"I didn't know she was going to send it out to everyone. She's been trying to get me to break up with you. She won't accept that I want you."

She? Who the fuck is she? Is he cheating on me now, too? I should have seen this coming. I try my best to keep my breathing even and my face emotionless. I need to get out of here.

I grab my keys off of the holder near the door and walk back over to him to give him a chaste peck on the lips. "I'll be back in a little bit. We can go somewhere close for dinner."

"Okay. If that's what you want. I just want to make it up to you."

"There's nothing to make up. It's fine."

With that, I open the door and walk to my car. I already know where I'm going. I can't be in that apartment with him. If there was hell, this would be it. It's almost a sick joke that nobody in my life is real or genuine. They're all just as fake as I am when I tell them I'm okay. How the fuck am I supposed to go on like this? Something has to give at some point, right?