LIKE LOVE OBSESSION

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the campus as I wandered down the bright hallway, the echoes of my footsteps bouncing off the walls. Just as I reached the corner, I noticed Sophia leaning casually against the wall, her head tilted as though deep in thought.

When our eyes met, she straightened abruptly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Grace," she called out, her voice low but urgent.

"Hey, Sophia!" I greeted her with a cheerful wave, but her serious expression stopped me in my tracks.

"We need to talk," she said, grabbing my hand without waiting for a response. Her fingers were cool against mine, her grip firm as she tugged me along. "It's important."

Curiosity flared in my chest as I followed her, our steps crunching on the gravel path. She didn't say another word, just led me toward the back of the campus where the world seemed to quiet. When we reached the secluded spot she called her "secret hideout," she finally let go of my hand and turned to face me.

"Sophia, what's going on?" I asked, trying to catch my breath.

Instead of answering, she pulled her phone from her pocket and held it out to me. The screen was lit up with an Instagram feed I didn't recognize—a page clearly dedicated to our school. The posts were anonymous, snapshots of gossip and secrets that someone had curated into a virtual diary of scandal.

"What is this?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Look at this," she said, swiping through the posts. Her eyes stopped on one that sent a jolt through my chest. She tilted the screen so I could see it clearly.

It was me.

The picture wasn't of my face, but I'd recognize myself anywhere—the silhouette of my back, the curve of my ponytail, and the unmistakable shape of Sinister beside me. It was from that night. The night I pulled him away from his bodyguard and into the shadows to help him escape.

My breath hitched. "Who took this?"

Sophia didn't answer. She scrolled down to the comments section, where a flood of messages waited, their words jumping off the screen.

@Daniel_marya

'Sinister Romanov has a new girlfriend?'@sunshine

'nooooooooooo!!!!! It can't be true.....Sinister has a girlfriend.'@yourmary

'OMG. Who's the gal?@Tonight_Gamer

What happened to Darla? got dumped????'@vibewithher__

Is this why they broke up and the girl shifted to America? Fingers crossed they're still just buddies.

"But… who—" My words faltered as I met Sophia's stare. Her eyes held an emotion I couldn't quite place, something between concern and calculation. It made me uneasy, as though she knew something she wasn't sure she should tell me. Before I could press her, she broke the silence.

"This afternoon, an anonymous report was submitted to the account," she said, her tone even but heavy with implication.

My chest tightened as her words sank in. "I don't know how I'll ever manage to attend school when I'm always in the spotlight," I said, pressing my hand to my forehead. The frustration was bubbling over, spilling into my voice. "It's like I can't catch a break. Is it too much to ask for just one normal, drama-free day? One day without everyone looking at me or whispering behind my back?"

Sophia studied me for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a tilt of her head, she said, "Isn't it strange how everything seems planned? Somehow, since you transferred here, you've been caught up in one major incident after another."

Her words sent a ripple of unease through me. "What are you saying?"

She hesitated, as if weighing her next words carefully. Finally, she asked, "Did you know that Sinister is the one behind the wallet incident?"

I blinked, stunned. "What...?" The idea hit me like a slap, leaving me utterly bewildered. My thoughts raced, colliding with each other. Sinister? Why would he do something like that? It didn't make any sense. I had saved him—helped him, for God's sake. Why would he repay me with… this?

"You can't be serious," I said, my voice almost a whisper. "Why would Sinister do that? I mean, when someone helps you, you don't turn around and… and… cause trouble for them. That's not how things work. That's not how people work."

Sophia's gaze softened slightly, but there was still a hint of something guarded in her expression. "Grace, you need to understand something about Sinister," she began, her voice steady but low. "He doesn't play by anyone else's rules. He's not the kind of person who operates on logic or basic human decency. He has his own reasons for everything he does—reasons that most people wouldn't understand."

I shook my head, unwilling to believe it. "No. He wouldn't. Not after—"

"Last night, I saw Sinister with Megan and Emily," Sophia began, her tone measured but carrying an undercurrent of something she wasn't saying outright.

I frowned, confusion lacing my voice. "Wait, let me get this straight. Are you saying he's responsible for Megan's actions?"

Sophia leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs with deliberate ease. "Circumstantially," she replied, her voice cool, as though she was piecing together a puzzle only she could see.

I rubbed the back of my neck absentmindedly, trying to process. "I don't know, Sophia. I have my doubts. Megan doesn't seem like the type to follow orders, no matter who they're from."

Sophia tilted her head slightly, her expression inscrutable. "What if she doesn't have a choice?"

The notion caught me off guard, and my brows furrowed. Why would Megan, of all people, ever be forced to comply with someone else's demands? Especially someone like Sinister? My confusion must have been written all over my face because Sophia continued, her voice steady but tinged with a faint note of satisfaction, as if she'd anticipated my reaction.

"Megan's in a tight spot," she said. "Her mom's the general manager at RR Cosmetics, and that indirectly ties her to Sinister. He's not just the CEO; he's also the only son of the corporation's owner. Megan might want to push back, but her mother's position makes it nearly impossible. It's not just Megan's choices at stake—it's her mother's career, too."

I blinked, trying to absorb the weight of her words. "So… you're saying that Megan's actions might not be her own? That she's being forced into this because of her mother?"

Sophia gave a small shrug, as though it were the most obvious conclusion in the world. "It's business, Grace. Economics and leverage. Sinister doesn't make friends, not really. Even when he smiles, acts charming, or pretends to care, there's always an agenda. I just hope you're seeing it clearly now."

Her words hit me like a wave, disorienting and unsettling. I wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong about Sinister, but… wasn't that what I'd been questioning all along? If Sinister really was the kind of person who calculated every move, then why had he let his guard down with me? Why did his expression soften when I called him my friend? That fleeting moment of vulnerability—it had felt real, hadn't it?

Before I could respond, Sophia's phone began ringing. She muttered an apology, stepping away to answer it. "I'll catch up with you later," she said over her shoulder before disappearing into the hallway.

Left alone, I glanced at my phone. It was almost time for my next lecture. Deciding not to wait for Sophia, I headed toward the classroom, but my thoughts were anything but focused on academics. Sophia's theory looped in my mind, each piece adding another layer of doubt and confusion.

Why would Sinister manipulate Megan like that? It didn't align with the glimpses of humanity I'd seen in him—the gratitude in his voice when he thanked me, the way he'd seemed almost relieved when I extended my hand in friendship. But was I fooling myself, projecting something onto him that wasn't there?

I was lost in thought, my mind still reeling from Sophia's words about Sinister and Megan, when I felt the air shift around me. A group of about fifteen students suddenly appeared, their footsteps heavy, their presence overwhelming. They circled around me like wolves, and my heart raced as I tried to make sense of what was happening.

"Grace Smith?" one of them asked, her voice sharp, cutting through the quiet of the hallway. I froze. How did they know me?

I barely had a chance to react before the same girl stepped closer, her arms folded tightly across her chest. Her posture screamed intimidation, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was in way over my head.

"Were you with Sinister the night before yesterday?" she demanded, her gaze unwavering. I swallowed hard, my thoughts scrambling for a way out. I glanced quickly to where Sophia had been talking on the phone, but she was nowhere to be seen.

The question hung in the air, heavy with expectation. I was trapped. If I told the truth, it could lead to more trouble than I was prepared for.

"Hmmm... no, not really," I said, trying to smile as nonchalantly as possible, though my voice trembled slightly. "I was actually at home."

The girl raised an eyebrow. "You're a big fat liar!" she hissed. "I talked to Sinister, and he said you were with him. He called you his friend." She leaned in closer, her voice cold and cutting. "You're just trying to get something from him, aren't you?"

My heart skipped a beat. He called me his friend? The words echoed in my head, completely throwing me off balance. Sinister had called me his friend? That didn't make sense. He'd never even hinted at wanting a friendship before. So why now?

Before I could respond, the girl's voice rose again. "Get her, girls!"

In an instant, the group surrounded me, their hands grabbing my arms with alarming force, pulling me toward a secluded stairwell. My breath caught in my throat as panic began to set in. Was this really happening? Was I really being dragged into another situation like this?

I fought to free myself, my thoughts spiraling. Not again, not like with Darla. But I couldn't shake the feeling that I was about to face something much worse.

Just as I felt the walls closing in, a boy's voice cut through the chaos. "So, you're the new girl, huh?" he said, stepping forward with an air of superiority, his gaze fixed on me. He crossed his arms, his lips forming a petulant pout. "You should've known better than to think you could just waltz in here and win Sinister over. He's not some charity case."

I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "Sorry?" My voice barely escaped as I struggled to make sense of his words.

He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing with frustration. "Ever since I started here, I've had an intense crush on Sinister," he said, the words dripping with bitterness. "And you just waltz in and steal his attention? You should've waited your turn like everyone else. You need to learn some respect."

I felt my throat tighten as the world around me began to blur. What was happening?

"You don't understand," I said, barely managing to get the words out. "There's nothing between Sinister and me. I just helped him with something and he said thank you thats all, He didn't—"

"What did Sinister say to you?" The group chorused in unison, their voices rising in anger.

"No way," one of the girls spat. "My Sinister would never say thank you to someone like you. He's too good for that."

She lunged at me, her fury consuming her as the others closed in.

I stepped back, panic seizing my chest. "You're not listening!" I pleaded, trying to push them away. "It was just a thank you! He was just being polite! That's all it was!"

But they weren't hearing me. Their voices rose to a deafening roar, each of them convinced of something they didn't understand.

Just when things seemed like they couldn't get any worse, a calm yet firm voice cut through the thick tension like a blade.

"I think you might want to listen to her for a moment. She's telling you there's absolutely no romantic connection between her and Sinister."

I turned toward the voice, relief washing over me as I saw who it belonged to.

"Liam."

Descending the staircase with an almost casual air, Liam leaned against the bannister, his expression a mix of irritation and amusement as he focused on the boy standing far too close to me.

"Look," Liam continued, his voice sharp now, "I can personally guarantee there's nothing going on between her and Sinister."

The boy gripping my arm faltered, uncertainty flickering across his face. His gaze darted between me and Liam as though trying to weigh the truth in Liam's words.

"Why should I trust you?" the boy challenged, his grip tightening. "I'd rather hear it from her."

Liam's jaw clenched, his irritation rising. He leaned forward slightly, and his voice took on a taunting tone. "Alright then, hear this loud and clear."

Then, to my utter shock, he shouted, "Hey, babe, let's go!"

My mouth fell open. Did he just call me...babe?

"Wait...what?" I managed to stammer, utterly confused.

"You heard me, babe. Your boyfriend's here to save you," Liam said with exaggerated confidence, his voice carrying over the group. He even smirked, raising an eyebrow for added effect.

The boy's grip loosened immediately. The group exchanged startled glances, their hostility crumbling into confusion.

Liam's smirk widened as he added, "See? She's with me, not your precious Mr. RR Corporation."

"I...uh, I didn't know..." the boy stammered, stepping back. "Sorry."

And just like that, the tension evaporated. The group quickly dispersed, muttering apologies as they disappeared down the hallway.

Liam turned to me, his hands casually shoved into his pockets, his face breaking into a laugh. "You should've seen your face just now. Turning red like a tomato!"

"That's not because of you," I shot back, still trying to process what had just happened. "I just...I don't know. It felt like something out of a novel." I paused, then added softly, "Thanks for saving me."

"Phew, what can I say? Next time, hang out with a less popular guy like me, and maybe you'll avoid all this drama." He winked, the shameless grin still plastered across his face.

"Deal," I said, rolling my eyes. But as much as I tried to act indifferent, I couldn't help but smile back.

As we walked toward the main hall, a thought struck me. "Oh, hey," I asked, stopping mid-step. "Do you know where Sinister is?"

"Sinister?" Liam raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I just saw him near the rooftop stairs a little while ago. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," I lied quickly, shaking my head. "Thanks again. I've gotta go!"

I didn't give him a chance to reply as I hurried off toward the stairs, my heart hammering in my chest. Why am I doing this? I didn't know, but I couldn't stop myself.

The stairwell felt endless as I rushed upward, my breathing uneven from both exertion and nerves. When I finally reached the rooftop door, I hesitated for a moment before pushing it open.

And there he was.

Sinister stood near the edge, his back to me, deep in conversation with Megan. The sight froze me in place. His posture was tense, his movements sharp, and though I couldn't hear their words, the gravity of their interaction was undeniable.

My chest tightened. What are they talking about? I wondered, but the thought of interrupting made my stomach churn.

Without making a sound, I stepped back, letting the door close softly behind me. I descended the stairs slowly, my mind racing with questions and doubts.

His face lingered in my thoughts—so calm, yet so distant. Was he really the person I thought I knew?

I shook my head, trying to clear the image from my mind. Stop it, Grace, I told myself. But no matter how hard I tried, his presence weighed on me like a shadow I couldn't escape.