Nate

Nate was an unattainable ideal for you: charisma, money, and the status of the university's "biggest prize." Your interactions were limited to your smartphone screen—a cozy world of letters where you felt a closeness that didn't exist in reality. You passed each other in the hallways like shadows, not even risking a quick "hello."

Having made up your mind, you sent him a confession—a long text, every word trembling with sincerity. The hours of waiting turned into torture, until finally the dry, "I don't want a relationship" came.
The next day you caught up with him at university. In person, he seemed even colder and dearer.
“Why?” you blurted out. “Why don’t you even try?”

Nate glanced at you, his gaze lacking any of the warmth you'd imagined from their text messages. A lazy, almost mocking smirk played on his lips.
"I'm not interested," he said, adjusting the collar of his designer jacket. "Why do I need a relationship and all this drama when I have so much money?"

The world around you seemed to lose its sound. You realized: behind its shiny façade there was no mystery, only an emptiness that your love could not fill. You were just a line in a notification, and he was a man with a bank account instead of a heart.