Before the dean, Mrs. Hemingway, passed away, she wanted to find someone to look after both Regina and me. But when the time came, all three of our childhood sweethearts chose Regina.

Eric Druller spoke up first. "Jen's terrible at games. I'll pick Regina."

Sherman Bottinger glanced at me and shook his head. "You and I are better off as friends. But for dating... Regina's more my type."

Even the cold and distant Jim Sanders pushed up his glasses. "Jen's not even as capable as my assistant. Regina's meticulous. I'll take care of her."

Faced with their unanimous choice and thinly veiled rejection, I finally smiled and raised my left hand, showing them the ring.

"Mrs. Hemingway, I'm already engaged so let them have Regina."

***

Sherman was the first to laugh.

He reached over to ruffle my hair, but I turned away. "Jenny, where'd you dig this thing up? A toy box?

"It looks super fake, doesn't it?"

I just pressed my lips together and did not say anything.

When he noticed I was not joking, his smile faded.

"Wait, you didn't actually go out and find some random guy, did you?"

I met his amused eyes and replied calmly, "What random guy? He is your brother-in-law."

While he froze for a second, I looked over at Mrs. Hemingway.

"Sorry, Mrs. Hemingway. Things have been hectic lately. We got engaged in a rush, and I didn't get the chance to tell you."

I gently tucked in her quilt, and when my fingertips brushed her frail wrist, I noticed her pulse was racing.

She probably did not expect all three of them to choose Regina.

At the very least, she must have thought someone would pick me.

To everyone else, Regina Alvar was friendly with them, but I was the one they gave special treatment to.

Only I knew that Regina, who joined us later, was the one they always treasured most.

Mrs. Hemingway suddenly held my hand. "Jenny..."

"Let's just forget about today," I said with a soft laugh. "Don't worry, my fiancé treats me really well. Better than..."

Better than Eric, who took care of me during my period.

Better than Sherman, who remembered all the little things I could not eat.

Better than Jim, who stayed up late tutoring me.

Those memories lingered on the tip of my tongue, but in the end, I only said, "Better than anyone."

Eric, who had been quiet this whole time, suddenly stepped forward.

He grabbed my wrist and stared down at the ring.

A familiar smirk tugged at his lips.

"If you're really engaged and this is the ring he gave you... looks like he couldn't even bother spending a little cash.

"Is this just to make Mrs. Hemingway happy?"

I was just about to say something when I heard someone call out, "Eric!"

Regina had tripped over the IV tube and tumbled straight into Eric's arms.

Without hesitation, he brushed me aside to catch her—so smooth, so natural, it almost felt rehearsed. And it stung.

It reminded me of that time in college, during a duet dance performance. There was a catch-move. He had caught the water bottle Regina tossed instead of me, and I ended up flat on the floor.

I stumbled a little now, nearly losing my balance.

Regina smiled sweetly, playing up the moment, then looked at me and pouted. "Jenny, I don't know if this engagement of yours is real or fake, but as your bestie, I just want to say congratulations!"

"Thanks." I did not feel like entertaining her any further.

Honestly, nobody cared whether it was real or not.

Sherman wrapped his arm around Regina's shoulder, chuckling. "Regina, forget her. What's this all about? Are you picking Eric for real? What about the rest of us?"

Watching them, my mind flicked back to six months ago.

That night, Sherman was drunk, and during Regina's livestream, he slung his arm around her shoulder and said, "Me and Jen? Come on, she's like my bro."

He conveniently forgot that he had been using me—just a regular girl—to build up a fake love-struck persona online.

The comment section blew up.

"So Jen was just a prop all along?"

"Obviously Sherman likes the streamer more, LOL."

"This girl really thinks she's the main character, huh?"

The next morning, my accounts were flooded. My DMs were full of death threats and grotesque edited photos.

When I confronted him, he was standing in front of the mirror, adjusting his looks like nothing happened.

"Didn't you say you'd keep it low-key and just use me for a few pics to stir up interest?"

"You mad?" he asked, poking my cheek. Then, out of nowhere, he dropped to one knee and pulled out a little velvet box. "Wanna make it real?"

Inside was a tacky fake glass diamond ring.

I was so caught off guard that I actually laughed, slipped the ring on my finger, and let it go.

That night, I ended up trending again.

Sherman'sFakeProposal

JenCheapGirl

My inbox was flooded with thousands of hateful messages, "Go to hell, homewrecker."

When I got upset, Sherman pulled his usual act—pouting like a kid. "Come on, I was joking!

"Jen, you know how it is. We don't come from much. If I don't stir up buzz, how am I supposed to make it big?"

Over the past six months, thanks to his controversial clout-chasing, I had been warned, stalked, and even harassed by obsessive fans...

And he never seemed to know which "joke" would cut deep, or which so-called "on-screen effect" would ruin my life for good.

Now, standing in front of Mrs. Hemingway, he brushed it all off with one phrase—"bad friend."

I suddenly remembered how Mrs. Hemingway once held my hand and told me, "Jenny, Sherman counts on you more than anyone. You two should always have each other's backs..."

Right. He did count on me.

To clean up after him. To be his shield. To wait like a fool while he went off and played.

But not anymore.

I glanced down at the engagement ring on my finger.

"Sherman," I muttered silently, "from now on, you really are just a ‘bad friend'."

I took a deep breath, composed myself, and said, "Everyone..."

The room quieted. They all turned to me.

"I've got something else to take care of, so I'll be heading out."

Regina gasped first, exaggerating as always. "Jen! You've been a social butterfly since junior high, don't tell me you can't spare a moment for us?"

She reached out to grab my hand, but I sidestepped, casually brushing her off.

Even though we did not touch, she leaned back dramatically and stepped right onto Jim's polished leather shoes.

All three guys rushed to steady her as if she were some delicate little porcelain doll.

"Careful," one of them said.

Jim bent down, pulled out a handkerchief, and gently wiped the tip of her shoe.

The hilarious part? That handkerchief was my birthday gift to him.

Knowing he was a neat freak, I had gone out of my way to pick the softest silk I could find.

So much for sincerity.

"Jenny..." Regina's eyes quickly welled up with tears. "Are you mad because none of them picked you? I-I didn't mean to...

"I'm not trying to steal them, really! I'll give them all to you, okay?"

She bit her lip, voice shaking, like she was the one being wronged.

For a moment, the whole room fell silent.

I stared at her and suddenly, I burst into laughter.

"Regina," I said softly, "you've got it all wrong."

She blinked, caught off guard.

"It's not that I wasn't picked. It's that I..." I raised my hand, "...already picked someone else."

Everyone froze for a beat, then burst into laughter.

"Sure, sure, you picked someone else," Sherman said lazily, twirling his car keys with a smirk.

"Jenny, let's sync up our schedules. My fans haven't seen you in months and they're dying for an update!"

He stepped closer, his tone all too familiar. "How about a surprise twist—‘pregnant before marriage'? Instant buzz, guaranteed..."

Slap!

Before he could finish, I raised my hand and slapped him clean across the face.

Sherman's head turned with the force of it, his smug grin frozen mid-expression.

The whole room went silent.

Regina gasped. "Sherman, are you okay?"

Eric shot up from his seat, and even Jim, usually calm and collected, had a chill in his eyes.

Sherman slowly brought a hand to the corner of his mouth, rubbing the sting away.

"You mad?" he asked with a tilt of his head, voice still light. "It was just a joke. Isn't it always like this?"

Yeah, it was always like this.

He once blurted out "Jen was the one who pursued me" during a livestream, and just like that, his fans swarmed me online, calling me a clingy try-hard.

When he and Regina got caught in late-night photos, he brushed it off on Instagram, saying, "Jen knows we're just talking about the script," and expected me to clean up the mess.

Even when promoting his new drama, his team purposely leaked a "Sherman and Jen living together" rumor just to stir up traffic.

And every single time, he would flash a grin and say, "Jenny, just play along, it's all for work."

And stupidly, I did.

I believed he saw me as family and I believed he would never really hurt me.

I had been such a coward in the past that this sudden reaction left everyone stunned.

Eric stared at me, his voice tight with anger as he swung his hand towards my face and said, "Take it out on Sherman all you want, but what did Regina ever do to deserve that? Why would you..."

"Eric!"

Mrs. Hemingway's sharp yell cut through the room, halting Eric mid-swing.

His clenched fist dropped, and he looked at me, furious and confused.

Regina, meanwhile, looked like a frightened little rabbit, teary-eyed as she tried to calm him down.

"Eric, don't! You haven't hit anyone in so long. Don't break your promise. I'm okay!"

Eric scowled and put his hands down.

The next moment, he picked Regina up and set her gently on the bed.

"Why are you wearing heels that high? You're going to make everyone worry."

Then he turned to me, gaze cold, like I was some unhinged stranger.

I let out a small, bitter laugh.

Just last month, I went to see his match live. During the match, I twisted my ankle by accident, and he had brushed it off with, "Jen, when did you get so soft?"

Then, without hesitation, he dragged me out of the car by my collar and tossed me onto the emergency lane.

"If you get hurt that easily, just train harder."

I sat there with a swollen ankle, the skin red and shiny.

I limped nearly five kilometers before a kind stranger stopped to help me.

He said I was "soft", but he did not know that I was juggling work while staying up three nights straight just to level up his game account.

I wore heels to look my best for him at the venue, even when I was half-asleep...

And he forgot that day was also my birthday.

After I got home and rested for two days, I did not get so much as a text from him. That was when it finally hit me that I meant nothing.

So I disappeared.

And just like I thought, not one of them bothered to reach out.

No one really noticed I was gone.

Even if I suddenly announced I was engaged, so what? It would not matter to them.

I quietly took a step back, ready to slip out of the ward.

Sherman caught on first.

I just slapped him, yet he acted like it never happened.

"Come on, Jenny, we're all friends here. Don't be petty, come help Regina with her flowers...

"Didn't you take that flower arrangement course? If any of us need a gardener someday, we'll know who to call."

Crude jokes, as usual.

He always assumed I would just play along.

I glanced at the bedside table—my sunflowers had been shoved to the side.

Regina's bouquet of vibrant red roses, completely out of place in the sterile white ward, sat proudly at the center.

"Do whatever you want," I said, forcing a smile at Mrs. Hemingway. "I'll come visit you tomorrow."

As I turned to leave, I heard Regina's sugary voice behind me, "Oh no! The necklace Eric gave me is tangled in my hair."

Then came the quick shuffle of three men rushing to help, and Sherman laughing, "You're such a klutz!"

Down the hallway, a breeze from an open window carried away some of the harsh scent of antiseptic.

I touched the cheap ring on my finger—a plastic diamond, two bucks tops.

But the engagement? That part was real.

I took a deep breath and sent a quick message for someone to come pick me up.

Just as I turned to go, someone grabbed my arm and pulled me into a corner. "What exactly are you trying to do?"

It was Jim, his voice low but tense. I frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Why are you so angry? You said you're engaged? Even if you wanted to get married, it shouldn't be someone else marrying you!"

I yanked my arm back. "Didn't you guys already make your choice? All three of you picked Regina—how coordinated."

His expression twisted. "Regina just needs more attention and you've always been the strong one."

"So that makes me your backup plan?" I let out a laugh. "Jim, you've crunched too many numbers. Are you calculating relationship returns now too?"

His face instantly darkened.

Just then, Regina's sobs rang out from inside the ward. Jim turned to go, hesitated, then looked back at me.

"Do you really need men that badly?"

I scoffed. "Don't bother worrying about my life."

What they do not know is that Jim once confessed to me when I was eighteen.

But my eyes back then were fixed on the championship trophy Eric had just lifted high.

When I looked up at Jim, I smiled and said, "Jim, aren't we best friends?"

"Yeah. Friends."

It took him all of five seconds to go from hopeful to heartbroken to playing it cool.

I thought he had moved on.

Yet, something shifted between us after that.

He still brought me umbrellas when it rained, but there was always a little tag on the handle: Return me.

He still helped me with schoolwork, but stopped calling me "Jenny." It was just my full name—cold, precise, distant.

Anyway, I always thought we were still good friends.

We grew up together, went to school together, had our coming-of-age ceremonies side by side, and even stepped into the real world together...

Yet, apparently, he never saw it that way.

Even now, I sometimes ask myself was it wrong to fall for Eric?

Was it wrong not to like Jim?

Or worse, was it just wrong that I was even born?

Truth is, my biological parents found me two years ago.

Mrs. Hemingway quietly told me that they were actually loaded.

However, they did not want me to know they existed.

Because the "daughter" they raised was throwing a hunger strike tantrum, so they did not dare bring me back into their lives.

To protect Mrs. Hemingway's reputation, I never told anyone.

I just waited. Now, I have worked for two years and I am engaged. And still—nothing. Not a word from them.

However, the money they give me each month? Pretty generous.

Yet, I never used it for myself.

I used it to pay for Sherman's celebrity training courses.

I gave Jim his first round of startup capital.

I bought Eric the limited-edition keyboard he had been dreaming about for years.

And Regina? As much as I could not stand her, I still covered the loan she could not pay off after splurging on her lavish lifestyle.

None of them ever knew the money was from me.

Sherman always thought his adoptive parents finally changed their minds and softened toward him.

Jim assumed it was a loan from the bank.

Eric figured it came from some generous sponsor.

And Regina? She thought it was just some "fool with a crush" trying to impress her.

Honestly, it was laughable. I am like a ghost—unseen, unfelt.

I used the so-called "family love" my biological parents used to make up for abandoning me just to fuel the fake friendships these people tossed my way.

And none of them have even said a simple "thank you".

I passed by the ward again, watching them all gathered around Regina, smiling and laughing as if nothing in the world had ever gone wrong.

For a second, I felt like some tragic philanthropist.

I could not help but laugh at myself.

After everything, today is the first time I have been honest enough to admit how fake their "love" really was.

I stood at the hospital entrance for a while.

Then, three guys and one girl came out, chatting and laughing like they did not have a care in the world.

I instinctively wanted to step aside and avoid them, but it was too late.

Eric had one hand in his pocket and was casually holding Regina's bag with the other. He raised an eyebrow when he saw me.

"You're still here?" He glanced at my calm expression, then smirked. "What, your fiancé bailed on you already?"

Sherman wandered over like nothing had happened. "Jenny, don't be so stubborn. That ring on your finger? Looks like it came out of a vending machine."

He gestured for us to go. "C'mon. You might've slapped me earlier, but it's been a while since we all hung out. I know a club—great food, even better fun."

Just like old times, he reached out like he was going to wrap an arm around me. Yet, I stepped away before he could.

"Tsk. Still got that temper. What, mad we didn't pick you earlier?"

He reached out, trying to pinch my cheek like I was still some harmless kid.

I dodged again. His fingers caught nothing but air, and his grin faltered for a beat.

Regina clutched Eric's arm, her fingers tightening on his sleeve like she was scared I would blow up. "Jenny," she said sweetly, "you're not gonna be petty, right?"

Then, as if she was reminding me of something funny, she added, "Back then, we bet on who'd get your first kiss. You didn't even get mad when Eric went for it. You just closed your eyes and waited."

My breath caught.

On my eighteenth birthday, Eric had cornered me in the storage room.

His breath was warm on my face as he said, "Jen, I wanna try something..."

I thought it was the real thing, so I held onto that feeling and quietly liked him for years.

It turned out it was just a bet.

Regina's eyes welled up. "If you're mad, just take it out on me, okay? It's always been me taking the blame for everything since we were kids, so I'm used to it. So don't be mad at the others."

I stared at them and realized just how absurd they all seemed.

Back then, when Regina would pull her little theatrics in front of them, I would get flustered, hurt, and sometimes even cry because I felt so wronged.

But now? All I could think was how loud she was, and how dumb the rest of them looked falling for it every time.

"You done?" I glanced down at my phone. "My fiancé's almost here."

My calmness made Regina's words feel useless.

Then she suddenly grabbed my hand, eyes wide. "Jenny, don't joke like this! You always said you liked those three the most, so how could you suddenly have a fiancé?"

I gently pulled my hand back and held the real diamond on my ring finger up.

"Yeah, I liked them. Past tense." I wiggled my fingers slightly and smiled. "Now? I just like money."

Jim adjusted his glasses and said, "This one's real, not like the fake ring from earlier!"

Then his expression shifted, eyebrows pulling tight. "Jen, where did you rent this? Better return it before it's too late."

Sherman waved it off like it was nothing. "Jenny, you already explained it to Mrs. Hemingway, so you can give it back now. We won't blow your cover.

"If you lose this thing, you couldn't afford it even if you sold everything you own."

Regina suddenly gasped and theatrically covered her mouth. "Isn't this the ‘Tears of the Galaxy' from the very expensive jewelry shop?

"Jenny, you're a part-timer, so how much would it cost to rent something like this for just one day?

"Is your pride really worth that much?"

Her voice sliced through the air, sharp and pointed.

Eric's eyes narrowed, settling on the 5-carat blue diamond shining on my hand.

He gave a cold laugh. "Fine, since saving face means so much to her, let's just wait and see what kind of man she lured in."

Sherman chuckled, flipping a lighter between his fingers.

He pressed the switch and joked, "Maybe it's that delivery guy from last time?"

Surrounded by their mocking stares, I did not say a word.

Regina, in her usual fake-concerned tone, murmured, "Okay, Jenny, enough already. We're all just worried about you..."

Right then, a Rolls-Royce Phantom pulled up slowly in front of the hospital.

The car door opened, and a pair of polished leather shoes stepped out.

The man wore a flawless suit and carried an unmistakable air of authority on his face.

He lifted his gaze, eyes locking directly onto us.

Regina froze for a second, her cheeks flushing red.

Frantically, she smoothed the wrinkles on her skirt and muttered under her breath, "Oh no! That's Leon Purell—the CEO of Purell Group. I accidentally spilled red wine on him at that party before I came here. He must've tracked me down..."

Sherman's jaw practically dropped. "Seriously? You had the guts to mess with him?"

"Dang, you caught the eye of a billionaire CEO? What now, are we living in a rom-com where the CEO falls for the clumsy girl?"

Regina playfully scrunched her shoulders. "It was an accident! You all better back me up later."

However, before she could finish, Leon was already walking toward us.

Regina instinctively put on her best smile and tried to sound sweet. "Mr. Purell, I'm really sorry about earlier. I..."

Leon did not even look her way. Instead, he reached out and gently rested his hand on the small of my back, his voice low and warm. "Darling, did I keep you waiting?"