After Being Exposed, She Broke Down!

My best friend, Lydia Stone, once saved my life, and after learning of her tragic background, I offered to support her.

She started using my credit cards, driving my sports car, and quickly became the envy of our classmates, seen as a wealthy young lady.

However, when our artwork was strikingly similar in a painting competition, everyone accused me of plagiarism.

My participation was disqualified, my identity was exposed, and I was subjected to online abuse that made me afraid to leave the house.

My father attempted to clear my name on a live stream, but the flood of angry comments led him to a heart attack, and he died on the spot.

My mother, devastated by the loss, suffered a stroke and became paralyzed.

Exhausted and heartbroken, I was abducted off the street late one night and brutally killed.

Meanwhile, my best friend used my artwork to catapult to fame. The controversy over the plagiarism earned her sympathy from netizens, and she became a rising star in the art world.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back before the competition, and my friend, casually swiping my card, cheerfully announced, "Today, I'm treating everyone to a seafood buffet!"

——

"Wow, is it the new seafood buffet downtown? It's 2499 dollars a person!"

"Lydia is so generous! She always treats us to highend restaurants!"

"Can't argue with that! Lydia is as beautiful as she is kind. Ever since we became friends, we've been living the high life."

When Lydia saw me frowning, she lightly patted my shoulder.

"Meryl, aren't you busy with your artwork? I'll treat you next time."

I took a moment to shake off the lingering joy of being reborn.

Lydia often took advantage of my absences to take our classmates out for meals and fun.

She was always considerate enough to tell them that I wasn't familiar with them, so they felt more relaxed and open when I wasn't around.

She told them every time that it was my treat, so they felt grateful to me.

In reality, she spun a different story, saying that I didn't want to hang out with them because I found them boring and dumb.

This led everyone to view me as a snob and a miser, reinforcing their negative opinions of me.

I was so absorbed in my art that I didn't notice their growing resentment.

It wasn't until the international painting competition before graduation that things came crashing down.

My and Lydia's artworks were strikingly similar. Everyone quickly accused me of copying Lydia. They called me antisocial and malicious, insisting that I didn't have the talent to produce such a vibrant piece and must have stolen it from Lydia.

No matter how much I tried to explain, no one believed me. I had no friends, and aside from Lydia, no one had seen my painting.

Meanwhile, Lydia frequently invited them to watch her work, making them convinced that I was the thief.

I was cyberbullied to the point where I was afraid to leave the house.

My father, seeing my distress, immediately went live to clear my name.

Lydia, however, orchestrated a mob of her followers to flood the stream, hurling abuse at him.

Overwhelmed and enraged, my father suffered a heart attack and died on the spot.

Only then did I see Lydia's true colors, but it was too late.

My mother, devastated by the loss, suffered a stroke and was left paralyzed.

Exhausted from the constant shuttling between the hospital and home, I was abducted one night. Lydia had hired a gang from her hometown, and they, grinning wickedly, said they wanted to "test out" what a highclass lady was like.

I was brutally tortured and killed, experiencing unimaginable pain before I died.

Now, with the chance to live again, my only goal was to destroy Lydia.

Before starting college, I had been kidnapped.

One evening, after a day of shopping and grabbing a latenight snack, I found myself waiting on the deserted street for my ride.

A van suddenly pulled up in front of me.

I was blindfolded and dragged into the vehicle. Expecting the worst, I was shocked when the kidnappers neither harmed me nor demanded a ransom.

They took me to a river and threw me in.

Not knowing how to swim, I flailed desperately, sinking fast. Just as I was about to drown, someone pulled me out and dragged me back to shore.

At that moment, Lydia's face, marked with acne scars, looked like an angel to me.

She explained that her family couldn't afford her college tuition and planned to marry her off to an elderly village fool for the marriage gift. Overwhelmed by despair, she had decided to end her life by jumping into the river.

Seeing me struggle, she thought it would be better to save me first before going through with her own plans.

She pretended to jump, but I stopped her.

I promised to support her financially and take care of her needs.

When I learned that we'd both been accepted into the same university, I was thrilled.

I arranged her accommodation, gave her a secondary bank card, and used my summer break to teach her how to drive.

But as soon as the school year started, she began flaunting my sports car and using my card to buy luxury items for our classmates.

She even told everyone that I was just the daughter of her maid.

She claimed that because I had been kidnapped before, she could help mislead any potential threats.

I thought her reasoning made sense, so I went along with it.

Lydia frequently came to me in tears, saying her family was pressuring her to marry.

As her close friend, I generously gave her an extra 50 thousand dollars annually to help her escape her family's demands.

She would often complain that no one liked me in the dorm and that my roommates spoke poorly of me behind my back, and to defend me; she would frequently argue with them.

Since I preferred solitude, I moved into the apartment my parents had bought for me.

Lydia then spread rumors that my private life was chaotic and that I had moved out to make it easier for my "sugar daddy" to visit.

Freed from my presence, she ramped up her act as the ultimate socialite.

Gradually, I began to feel disconnected from campus life, immersing myself solely in my art.

I was even removed from the class group chat, and Lydia became the gobetween for all notifications.

During the last semester, she forgot to inform me of an exam date, causing me to fail the course.

Before I could even be upset, she was already crying and apologizing.

I had believed only she had my best interests at heart. In hindsight, I realized I was nothing but a total sucker.

Thankfully, fate gave me another shot at life.

As I snapped out of my reverie, I looked at my excited classmates and gave a faint smile.

"Drawing has been exhausting lately," I said, "so today, I'd like to take a break."

Lydia, looking flustered, nudged me. "But you said that painting was really important to you. Is it really okay to skip a whole night?"

"It's fine. It's almost done anyway."

I tried to reach out to my former roommate, Louisa Lane, but she recoiled. She looked at me with obvious disdain.

"Meryl, you have some kind of infection. Don't come so close."

I immediately grabbed Lydia's hand, feigning hurt. "How could I have an infection? Lydia wears my clothes and uses my things every day, and she's perfectly fine. How could I be contagious?"

Lydia's face flushed with embarrassment, and she froze in place.

I couldn't help but smirk at her discomfort.

I thought, You love to play games, don't you? Let me tear away your mask piece by piece.

We arrived at the restaurant, and the waiter, seeing our group of over a dozen, greeted us with a broad smile and led us to the best table.

As I pulled out a chair to sit down, Louisa pointed at me with irritation and told the waiter I wasn't part of their group.

The waiter, looking uncomfortable, asked me to sit elsewhere. Just as I was picking up a plate, Louisa's voice cut through again, dripping with sarcasm.

"I was just trying to warn you. She has an infection. If this fancy restaurant ends up with other guests getting sick because of her, can you cover the cost?"

Seeing the waiter's distress, I calmly dropped my plate.

I thought, If they don't want to serve me, so be it. I'll let them deal with the fallout.

I headed to McDonald's, bought a meal, and took a seat outside, watching them through the glass while I ate.

Apparently, having someone watch while eating wasn't exactly appetizing—soon, everyone put down their forks and declared they were full.

The waiter brought the bill, and I glanced at it—it was nearly 40 thousand dollars. Lydia, with a nonchalant air, pulled out my card and handed it to the waiting waiter.

Her calm demeanor made me wonder if the card had been hers all along.

Everyone around her showered her with praise for being both beautiful and generous, and Lydia basked in the attention, looking like she was floating in the air.

But reality hit her hard when the waiter returned with a serious look.

"I'm sorry, but this card isn't going through. Do you have cash or another payment method?"

Lydia's face turned a deep shade of red as she stared at the card in disbelief. She examined it repeatedly.

Her friends began grumbling about the restaurant's outdated equipment, blaming them for not accepting the card.

The waiter explained apologetically, "It's not our equipment. This card has been reported lost."

As Lydia's expression shifted to one of realization, she fixed a steely gaze on me, who was now enjoying the show from outside.

I leisurely got up, brushed off crumbs, and shrugged in her direction.

I thought, Looks like you've been playing this part for so long, you've started to believe it yourself. Lydia, it's time to wake up from your princess fantasy.

Seeing my nonchalant reaction, Lydia blushed even more.

She signaled for silence, saying she needed to make a call to figure out what was going on.

Lydia pulled out her phone, pretending to dial, and started a dramatic monologue to an imaginary wealthy father.

I couldn't help but admire her performance; with her talent, she should've pursued acting instead.

Before long, she hung up, her eyes redrimmed as she addressed everyone with a sorrowful tone. "I'm so sorry, everyone. Dad's been furious with me over Logan. He said if I don't break up with Logan, he'll cut off my financial support. He wants to see how long I can last.

"So, for now, could you please cover the bill yourselves? Don't worry, once Dad restores my card, I'll pay you all back."

With the conversation at this point, no one had much choice but to pay. After all, they had eaten the meal themselves, and nobody was leaving without settling the bill.

Although reluctant, the group consoled Lydia, trying to comfort her.

"Don't worry, Lydia. You and Logan are true love. Your dad will come around eventually."

"Yeah, Logan's a real achiever. He could make a big name for himself in the future. You can't give up now, Lydia!"

Lydia nodded resolutely, vowing she would never give in.

The evening, however, turned out to be a total fiasco. Everyone, using various excuses, hurried off, leaving the scene.

Once most had left, Lydia approached me with a stony expression and grabbed my arm, her frustration evident.

"Meryl, why did you block my card? You knew I was picking up the tab tonight. Are you trying to embarrass me on purpose?"

I almost laughed out loud at her indignation.

I said, "Your card? It's mine, actually.

"And why should I pay for your dinner? I didn't even get a bite. Are you enjoying taking advantage of me?"

Her desperation grew, and she squeezed my arm so tightly it was painful.

"Are you out of your mind? Taking advantage? I was just trying to help you out with your classmates. They don't even like you, and I was trying to smooth things over!

"You're not only ungrateful but also insulting me. I might as well just die!"

Here we go again. Whenever I didn't cater to her whims, she'd threaten to end it all.

I shook off her hand, my tone icy.

"Fine, if you're so set on it, I won't stop you. Don't worry, I'll make sure your arrangements are taken care of."

With that, I grabbed her shoulder bag and took my car keys from inside.

Ignoring Lydia's enraged stomping, I got into my car and drove away.

I headed straight back to school. If memory served me right, I had a few designer bags that Lydia had borrowed from me. Today, I planned to reclaim them all.

As soon as I parked, Logan stormed over, fuming with anger.

He shoved me against the car door and smashed his fist against the window.

"Meryl, you're disgusting!

"Just because Lydia was worried you might infect everyone and didn't invite you, you deliberately blocked her card? Do you know that's criminal?"

I glanced at the shattered window, unable to hold back a grin.

This was a highend sports car, and just the window alone was worth at least 8000 thousand.

Logan was out of control, smashing things without a second thought.

I was curious to see if he could cover the damage. If he couldn't, I wondered if vandalizing a car could be considered a crime.

At the start of the school year, Logan was practically glued to my side, constantly showering me with affection, claiming he was head over heels for me.

Naturally, I had no time to entertain his advances, and after a few tries, he lost his patience.

He promptly turned to Lydia and confessed his feelings. It wasn't long before news of their relationship spread like wildfire.

I had someone dig up dirt on Logan, uncovering plenty of shady details. I advised Lydia to break up with him as soon as possible.

To my surprise, she relayed this information to Logan, who then developed a grudge against me.

After I moved out, Logan started telling everyone that I was living off a sugar daddy.

In my past life, I might have let it slide, but now, I was all about settling scores.

I immediately called my dad and asked him to come over and handle the situation.

He arrived in a RollsRoyce, accompanied by several of the toughest security guards from his company.

As soon as he stepped out, he furiously demanded to know who had vandalized my car.

Logan, terrified, nearly collapsed.

Coincidentally, the principal, who had just finished work, was passing by. My dad had donated generously to the school over the years, so the principal recognized him immediately. With utmost respect, he ushered my dad into the school, and whispers spread through the crowd as everyone speculated about our relationship.

The principal had arranged for someone to bring coffee to the principal's office. Unfortunately, Lydia was the one carrying it.

When she saw me following my dad, her eyes filled with tears as she rushed over to grab my hand.

"Meryl, I know you're upset because I didn't invite you to dinner tonight, but can we discuss this privately? You didn't have to make a scene in the principal's office."

Murmurs of sympathy rose around us, and even my dad looked at me with a stern expression.

He must have thought I was acting like a spoiled brat at school and failing to get along with my classmates.

When she saw me stay silent, Lydia's eyes gleamed with a hint of satisfaction though her face feigned concern.

"Meryl, you should head back. I know you're keen on mingling with wealthy people, but this guest of the principal's is not someone you should be bothering."

I narrowed my eyes, admiring her acting skills. It was impressive how she managed to paint me as someone who clings to the rich.

But Lydia was so engrossed in her performance that she didn't notice my dad's face growing gloomier by the second.

The onlookers began to jeer.

"Ugh, it's been rumored that she's been kept by someone. Just look at her sycophantic attitude, it's disgusting…"

"Maybe her old sponsor got bored with her, and now she's scrambling to find a new one!"

Lydia's smugness grew as she stood with her hands on her hips, pointing at me and telling me to get lost.

It wasn't until she felt a hard slap across her face, leaving half of it swollen, that she finally woke up to reality.

She stared at my dad, her eyes wide with disbelief.

He was still fuming, rolling up his sleeves, ready to deliver another smack.

I quickly intervened, pulling him back and flashing a sweet smile at Lydia.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce you. This is my dad."