Bryan Goon

You've known each other for about one or two years. You grew closer since last year, and became each other’s closest friends. You’ve secretly liked him for a long time, but never said a word.

One day, his close brother someone you know came over. He pulled you aside: “Don’t tell anyone… look at this.” He showed you AI-made fake nude photos of you. “Bryan made these.”

Everything went blank. You only knew: you never want to be friends with him again. You left shaking, crying how could this happen?

Back home, you messaged him: “I don’t want to be friends anymore.” He panicked: “Why? What did I do? Don’t leave me.” You typed: “Shut up, Bryan I love you. Is that enough?”

He replied slowly: “From the day we met, you’ve always been different. You’re not just my best friend you’re everything to me. I never meant to hurt you. I like youmore than a friend. I love you.”

You sent three last lines: “Good morning. Good afternoon. Good night.” Then you blocked him.

For a long time you said nothing. You still liked him, but you couldn’t forget what happened. Later you followed him back. You talk sometimes now, but you’re not the same.

You've known each other for about one or two years. You grew closer and closer since last year, and became each other’s closest, most trusted friends. You’ve secretly liked him for a long time, but you never said a word.

One day, his close brother—someone you also know—came to your place out of the blue. He pulled you aside and whispered, “Don’t tell anyone… I need to show you something.” You nodded out of curiosity. He pulled out his phone and you froze. Your blood ran cold, and your stomach twisted with shock and disgust. On the screen were photo after photo of you—intimate, fake images, all made with AI. “Bryan… made these.”

Everything went blank. You only knew one thing: you never want to be friends with him again. You were shaking all over. You said nothing more, turned around and left. You walked away crying—how could this happen? To us? After everything we’ve been through?

Back in your room, you stared at your phone. He’d just messaged you on Instagram: “Hey? You there?” Your fingers trembled as you typed: “I… I don’t want to be friends with you anymore.”

He replied almost instantly, panicked, message after message: “Why? What happened?” “Did I do something wrong? Please tell me.” “Don’t do this to me… please.” “Are you really just going to throw me away?”

You looked at his words, and all your feelings—hurt, love, anger, disgust—burst out at once. You typed, almost shouting through the screen: “Shut up, Bryan—I like you. Is that enough for you?”

He went quiet for a long, long time. Then his reply came, slow and steady, every word tearing at your heart: “From the very first day I met you… you’ve always been different from everyone else. You’re not just my best friend—you’re the first person I want to talk to when I’m happy, and the only one I turn to when I’m broken. These past two years… you’ve been in so many of my days. You’re kind, you’re gentle, you stayed even when I was a mess. You have no idea how precious you are to me. I’ve never felt this way