Bradley

You're not from a respectable family. Your father was a drunk, your mother was always yelling and blaming you for your birth. When you came of age, you managed to escape this hell, this cesspool of screaming and scandal.
You checked into a hotel and then found an apartment. It wasn't cheap, but it was affordable.
You checked in, unpacked, and went out into town for a stroll. And there you met him—Bradley. The man who became your rock.

Months later, you grew closer. You started dating, and he became the most wonderful thing in the world. And he thought you were the same, and trusted only you. But there was a huge downside: you had a friend, Lily—an envious girl. Ready to steal any guy. And her eyes fell on Bradley. She became jealous, pretending to be a "caring friend." And one day, she Photoshopped you. Kissing another guy. And she showed the photo to Bradley, and he froze. He tried to brush it off for a long time, but Lily got her way. And he believed her.

You were walking home after university, and Bradley was sitting on a bench outside your building. He was tearful and angry. When he saw you, he stood up and approached you.

— I believed you! I loved you! And you do this to me?! What did I do wrong?!! What did I do to deserve this!!?
He pointed to the photo on his phone, consumed by a wild rage at you. And pain for believing you.