Sienna's phone exploded at 7:02 a.m.
It wasn't an alarm. It was a digital avalanche of notifications, a cascade of pings, buzzes, and vibrations that shook her from a shallow, restless sleep. She fumbled for it, her heart already sinking. The screen was a nightmare mosaic of red dots.
Tasha (3:18 AM): OKAY I'M HOME. THE PARTY IS STILL TALKING.
Tasha (4:05 AM):GIRL. CHECK YOUR SOCIALS. DON'T PANIC.
Tasha (6:45 AM):OKAY MAYBE PANIC A LITTLE. CALL ME WHEN YOU'RE ALIVE.
And then, sandwiched between texts from numbers she didn'tUnknown Number (2:47 AM): You okay?
She knew, with a dread that felt like ice water in her veins, who it was. She saved the number as 3B Nuisance.
Her thumb trembled as she opened the "Campus Wire" app. It was the first post. Pinned. Thousands of likes and hundreds of comments.
The photo.
It was them. Captured in that single, stolen moment of perfect, damning ambiguity. Jace's arms were wrapped tightly around her, his hands splayed possessively on her back. Her own hands were gripping his shoulders, her body arched against his. The camera flash had illuminated their faces, highlighting the intense, intimate proximity. Their lips were a breath apart. It didn't look like an accident. It looked like the climax of a romantic movie.
The caption made her want to crawl into a hole and never come out.
Rivera's Off the Market? Jace getting VERY cozy with mystery art history major Sienna Cole at the Sigma Tau rager last night. Someone's smitten! 🔥 #Jienna #CampusRoyalty
"They used my name," Sienna whispered, her voice hollow. "My full name. And my major."
Her door creaked open and Tasha slipped in, holding two mugs of coffee like a caffeinated war correspondent. "You've seen it."
"How do they know my major?"
"The internet is a scary, efficient place," Tasha said, handing her a mug. "And it gets worse. Or better. Depending on your perspective." She scrolled through her own phone. "There's a 'Jienna' fan account that already has over five hundred followers. They're posting… analysis. Of the photo. Someone zoomed in on your hands.""My hands?"
"Yeah. Apparently, the way you're gripping his shoulders suggests 'passionate possessiveness.' I'm not making this up."
Sienna dropped her head into her hands. "This is a nightmare. My quiet, anonymous, peaceful semester is over. I'm a meme. A shipping tag."
"And Lydia Park posted a super vague story at 4 a.m.," Tasha added, cringing. "Just a black screen with the words 'Knowing your worth' in white text. The comments are a warzone."
A fresh wave of nausea rolled through Sienna. "I can't go to class. I can't."
"No way," Tasha said, her tone turning stern. She grabbed Sienna's shoulders. "Listen to me. If you hide, you look guilty. You look like you're embarrassed or ashamed. You walk into that lecture hall like you own the damn place. You hold your head high and you give them nothing. The'Cole Glare' is your best friend today."
The walk to her Sociology class was the most excruciating ten minutes of Sienna's life. It felt like every pair of eyes was a laser pointed at her. The whispers were a constant, sibilant soundtrack.
"…that's her, the girl from the photo with Jace…"
"…Sienna Cole, she's in my art history class…"
"…doesn't look like his usual type…"
She kept her face a neutral mask, just as Tasha had instructed. But inside, she was screaming.
She slipped into the lecture hall and beelined for her usual spot in the back row, praying for the ground to swallow her whole.
It didn't work.
The door at the front of the hall opened again, and a hush fell over the room. Jace walked in, and the whispering immediately crescendoed. He seemedutterly unfazed, scanning the room with a lazy confidence until his eyes landed on her. A slow, unreadable smile touched his lips as he started making his way toward her, every step tracked by dozens of staring students.
He slid into the seat beside her, his arm brushing against hers. A jolt, unwelcome and familiar, shot up her arm.
"Morning, Hazard," he said, his voice a low rumble.
She stared rigidly at the chalkboard. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't 'Hazard' me. Don't smile. Don't act like this is all some big, funny joke." Her voice was tight, strained.
He leaned closer, his breath ghosting her ear. "Why? Because of a picture?"
"Because of the picture!" she hissed, finally turningto glare at him. "The one that has turned my life into a public spectacle! The one that has people analyzing my grip on your shoulders!"
Professor Harper chose that moment to amble in and begin his lecture. Sienna tried to focus, but the words were just noise. Her skin was buzzing.
After a few minutes, Jace nudged her elbow with his. When she refused to acknowledge him, he did it again, more insistently. She finally shot him a venomous look.
His expression had changed. The amusement was gone, replaced by a surprising softness. "Look," he whispered, leaning in. "I get it. The attention is… a lot. And it's invasive. But it's just noise. It'll die down in a few days, I promise."
"Easy for you to say," she shot back, her voice trembling. "You're used to being the main character. You thrive on this. I just want to be a background extra." He held her gaze, his eyes serious. "For the record," he said, his voice so low it was almost a vibration in the air between them. "The part before the flash? That wasn't noise."
Sienna's breath caught in her throat. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, traitorous rhythm. Before she could form a single, coherent word in response, he turned back to face the front, leaving her utterly unmoored.
As Professor Harper droned on, Jace casually reached into his notebook, tore off a corner of paper, and began to write. A moment later, he slid the neatly folded note onto her open textbook.
Her hands were not steady as she picked it up. She unfolded it slowly.
The handwriting was bold and slanted.
So… should we give them something real to talk about?At the bottom, he'd drawn a small, winking emoji.