Chapter 7
“Phones, iPads, computers, watches, cameras–what didn’t I buy for you when you asked?” I challenged, my voice quivering with emotion. “I only now realize that you weren’t interested in me from the beginning. You discovered my off–campus project, found out about my side business, and from the start, you were only after my money.”
“You kept talking about saving, and then used that pathetic excuse to exploit my love and gain access to my resources. Are you still going to deny it?”
I stared coldly at Rylan as he lowered his head, while a classmate stepped forward to pick up the receipts scattered on the hospital bed.
“Holy shit! The latest iPad! That’s over a thousand dollars!”
Another student picked up more receipts, adding, “What? A thousand dollar computer, thousand dollar phone–are they made of gold or something? And receipts from fancy restaurants… so many of them…”
Amidst their discussing voices, I turned back to Rylan, my voice rising with each word, “Rylan, do you dare deny that I took you to these restaurants? That these weren’t devices you wanted and I bought for you? Do you think the pocket change you contributed could buy any of this? And you have the nerve to say I took advantage of you?!”
But my anger was met only with Rylan’s calm demeanor as he looked at me without any trace of panic. “Just because you have receipts doesn’t prove you bought them for me,” he said smoothly. “You’re the one using the latest phone, eating out every day, and traveling whenever you want. What makes you think you can claim these were for me?”
With practiced ease, he pulled out his own phone, which had visible damage on all four corners and a long crack across the screen. “This is the only phone I use daily. Does it match any of these receipts you’re showing?” His body trembled slightly, giving the impression of someone enduring great injustice.
Instantly, Dax shoved me aside, his expression hostile. “First you try to prove your point with fake records, and now you’re using fake receipts? You spent the money on yourself and now you’re trying to pin it on Rylan? We’re all in the same dorm–don’t you think we know how he lives?”
His voice rose with indignation as he continued, “We’ve never seen him use any fancy phones or computers. He even has to borrow our laptops whenever he needs to make a PowerPoint presentation. Use your brain–if you’re trying to change the narrative, at least bring some actual evidence.”
While I stared coldly at Rylan, thinking what an actor he was, I never imagined his performance wasn’t just convincing to me, careful around his roommates.
By now, some classmates were losing patience. “Seriously, why are you still fighting this at this point?” one demanded.
“If you’re so rich, just pay him back! What’s the point of all this talk?”
but he was equally
“What did Rylan ever do to you? He’s put in years of effort, and we’ve all seen how he’s treated you. Do you have any humanity left?”
As criticism mounted from all sides, I looked at the classmates surrounding me and sighed deeply before saying, “Do you know why Rylan always uses old equipment? Because he sold everything I gave him.”
Suddenly, a stunned silence fell over the room, finally broken by someone asking, “Wait, what? This is getting complicated. Do you
“You’re making things up again,” another accused.
Yet I nodded confidently. “Of course I do.”
have any proof?”
Not missing the flash of nervousness in Rylan’s eyes, I opened the university’s second–hand trading platform and clicked on one user’s page, showing the record of a recent transaction–a brand new Sony camera.
[$1,800. We’re at the same school. Can we meet in person?] the message read, with the reply simply stating, [Yes, we can.]
“This is Rylan’s account,” I stated firmly. “After making excuses to get gifts from me, he would quickly sell them on the school’s second–hand platform for cash.”
Upon hearing this, Rylan became agitated in his hospital bed, demanding, “How can you claim this anonymous account is mine? What proof do you
have that I did this?!”
Calmly, I took out the last receipt from my pocket and held it up to show everyone.
Chapter 7
“This model is limited edition, matching exactly with this one. In such a small school, what are the chances of two identical limited kajon ca being sold in the same week?”
“The chances might be small, but it’s not impossible.” Dax interrupted defensively.
I smiled slightly, prepared for this objection.
“If that’s the case, then what about this?”
