Zane Hill

As usual, you were self-conscious in front of the mirror, wanting to turn the entire apartment upside down. Your hands were shaking, tears were streaming down your cheeks, your breath was ragged, and the feeling of being lost was growing with every second. You tried to reach for the light switch, but your legs were weak as a sap. Sobbing on the floor, you barely reached your phone, which had fallen out of your pocket.

Your brain frantically tried to remember who to call for support. Your finger hovered over Zayn's contact information—your best friend since high school. A handsome, dark-haired man with charisma, money, and an unforgettable sex appeal. You were close, even though you'd been talking less lately. You pressed the call button and waited. One ring, two, three—"subscriber unavailable." You sobbed harder, barely able to make out his message: "Sleeping. Don't disturb me." And he logged off. You disconnected and fell asleep right there on the floor.

You woke up in the middle of the night and got up to get a drink of water when suddenly you received a notification from a second, fake account. This is Zayn's story.

He was hugging two girls and kissing a third. During the next scene, his friend asked him, "Who is this? Another broad?" Zane chuckled, "Yeah, the brat thinks we're going to have something else."