(Aeliana’s POV)

My name is Aeliana Laziel.

On paper, I’m everything a school could want in a student—top of my class, neat uniform, perfect attendance, the kind of name teachers call when they need an example of excellence.

But that’s only one version of me.

The other version—the one nobody knows—lives inside a glowing screen at 2 a.m.

That version is Love, Anonymous.

Yeah, that account. The one everyone at Elmbrook Academy follows like their life depends on it. The one where secrets spill out faster than cafeteria gossip. The one people beg for advice from when their crush ignores their texts, or when they’re convinced their best friend is stabbing them in the back.

That’s me.

Aeliana Laziel: flawless angel by day, anonymous puppeteer of everyone’s love lives by night.

Two completely different people.

Both of them me.

And honestly? I thought I could keep it that way forever—until he sent a confession.

By the time I stepped through the gates of Elmbrook Academy, the chatter had already started.

“Did you see the new post last night?”

“I swear Love, Anonymous knows everything.”

“Who do you think’s behind it?”

I walked past them with my usual calm smile, my books pressed neatly against my chest. If only they knew the girl they were whispering about was standing right in front of them. But they wouldn’t. Nobody ever looked at Aeliana Laziel and thought mystery. They saw control, order, discipline. The girl who always had the right answer.

Inside, the hallway buzzed with energy. I slipped into my classroom and sat by the window, my favorite spot. Sunlight spilled across my desk, and I allowed myself one quiet breath—until the room’s energy shifted.

“Darv Aeris is here.”

The whisper floated through the classroom, followed by a ripple of excitement. I didn’t have to look up to know he’d arrived. But of course I did.

There he was, walking in like he didn’t notice the way eyes followed him. Tall, broad-shouldered, sleeves rolled up just enough to show veins on his arms—like he’d stepped out of some untouchable world and landed here by accident.

Darv Aeris. The boy who never tried, but always stood out.

He dropped into the seat two rows over, leaned back casually, and tugged a pen from his pocket. His tie was loose, his hair slightly messy, but his gaze—steady, sharp—seemed like it could cut through walls.

And I hated myself for the way my stomach flipped. Because Darv Aeris was more than just another crush.

He was the newest message sitting unread in my Love, Anonymous inbox.

The teacher droned on at the front of the room, chalk squeaking against the board, but I wasn’t listening. My phone, tucked safely in the hollow of my desk, pulsed once against my thigh. A reminder. A temptation.

Darv Aeris’s message was still waiting.

I could almost hear it whispering: open me, read me, know me.

I curled my fingers tightly around my pen and forced my eyes on the board, writing down notes I didn’t even see. Control, composure, perfection—my practiced mask. But my pulse betrayed me, quick and uneven, every second dragging until I finally caved.

With one practiced motion, I slid my phone from under the desk, tilted it against my notebook, and opened Love, Anonymous. The flood of messages greeted me as always—desperate confessions, messy heartbreaks, reckless desires—but my eyes skipped all of them until they landed on the one that mattered.

From: Anonymous User #4278

Timestamp: 12:03 a.m.

Message:

> “What do you do if you like someone you’re not supposed to like?

And worse… what if your best friend likes them too?”

I swallowed hard. My throat went dry.

The words sat there, plain and simple, but I could hear his voice woven through them—careless and smooth, the way he talked when he wasn’t paying attention. It was him. It had to be. Darv Aeris, the boy two rows away, was asking me—or rather, my faceless alter ego—for advice on forbidden love.

A laugh from across the room snapped me out of my daze. My best friend, Lyra, leaned across her desk and whispered to another girl, her eyes darting—of course—toward Darv. I clenched my jaw. Of course she’d noticed him too. Everyone did.

I shoved my phone back under my notes before anyone could see, heart hammering against my ribs. The words burned in my mind.

Someone you’re not supposed to like.

Best friend likes them too.

I didn’t know which part scared me more—that Darv had feelings for someone off-limits… or that the someone might already be sitting dangerously close.

The teacher’s voice faded again into background noise. I glanced sideways, just once. Darv sat there, pen tapping lazily against his desk, his expression unreadable. Like he hadn’t just cracked my double life open with ten careless words.

And I—I was supposed to respond.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

The final bell echoed through the hallways, a chorus of slammed lockers and rushed footsteps following it. For everyone else, it meant freedom. For me, it meant another shift—the end of perfect Aeliana Laziel, model student, and the beginning of the work waiting for me behind a glowing screen.

I packed my books with precision, slipping each notebook neatly into my bag. Order, control, composure. That was my mask. If anyone noticed the way my hand trembled slightly, they’d never say it out loud.

“Aeliana!”

Lyra’s voice rang out, warm and familiar, pulling me from my thoughts. She skipped up beside me, her glossy black hair bouncing as she looped her arm through mine like she always did.

“You looked distracted in class,” she teased. “Don’t tell me the great Aeliana Laziel actually bombed a test.”

I forced a laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Hardly. Just… tired.”

Her sharp brown eyes studied me, but only for a second before she grinned. “Hmm. Well, I was distracted too. And it’s totally Darv Aeris’s fault.”

The name slammed into me harder than the bell had. “Darv…?” I repeated, careful to keep my voice even.

Lyra sighed dreamily, tugging me down the hallway. “Don’t you think he’s unfairly perfect? He’s hot, he’s smart without even trying, and he has that whole ‘I don’t care what anyone thinks’ vibe. Dangerous combination, right? Like… the kind you know is going to ruin you, but you fall anyway.”

My grip on my bag tightened. Lyra’s words replayed in my mind, a little too close to the anonymous confession sitting in my inbox.

By the time we reached the gates, she was still going on about Darv, spinning theories about what kind of girls he liked, whether he’d ever dated anyone seriously, whether she’d have a chance if she tried. I nodded in all the right places, smiled at all the right times—but inside, my chest felt tight.

Because Lyra didn’t know.

She couldn’t know.

That while she was falling headfirst for him… he had already whispered his fears to me.

That night, I tossed my blazer onto my chair, collapsed onto my bed, and unlocked my phone. The notifications hit instantly. My followers had been busy—thirty new messages, maybe more, each one a confession, a plea, a desperate scream into the void.

Some were shallow. Some cruel. Some heartbreakingly sincere.

And there, nestled among them, was the one I’d been avoiding all day.

> “What do you do if you like someone you’re not supposed to like?

And worse… what if your best friend likes them too?”

Darv Aeris.

I stared at the words until they blurred. My pulse was steady in my ears, a drum that matched the cursor blinking in the reply box. Love, Anonymous always had the answers. I had guided strangers through breakups, secrets, crushes, and heartbreaks.

But this? This was different.

This was dangerous.

Because this time, it wasn’t just an anonymous stranger asking me for advice.

It was him.

And for the first time since I created Love, Anonymous, I had no idea what to write back.

(Darv’s POV)

They say people are loud in their silences.

If that’s true, then Aeliana Laziel is deafening.

From where I sit, two rows behind her, I can see everything—how her back never slouches, how her pen glides across the page like she’s afraid to let the ink stutter, how the sunlight practically crowns her in a glow every morning.

She’s perfect. The kind of perfect that feels rehearsed, almost too heavy to carry. And yet she wears it so flawlessly that you’d never know how much weight it must take.

Not that she ever looks at me. Not for more than half a second, anyway.

I leaned back in my chair, letting my pen drum lazily against the desk. The teacher’s voice blurred into the background, words about equations I wasn’t going to use in life. Around me, classmates either scribbled notes frantically or zoned out completely. I fell into the second category—except my eyes kept drifting forward, to her.

Aeliana.

The name alone felt sharp in my chest.

Everyone else saw her as this untouchable angel—the honor student, the model class president, the one teachers smiled at with pride and other girls whispered about with envy. And me? I was the opposite. A perpetual disappointment wrapped in a uniform I never wore properly, tie loose, shirt sleeves rolled high enough to make teachers sigh in disapproval.

People thought I didn’t care. That I floated through school life without a single thought about the future. But the truth?

I cared too much.

And it was eating me alive.

My phone buzzed quietly against my leg. My chest tightened at the reminder, though I didn’t dare look at it during class. The notification was from an account that didn’t even have a face, didn’t even have a name. Just a handle.

Love, Anonymous.

I should’ve never messaged them.

Last night, I must’ve stared at the blank text box for an hour. Typing. Deleting. Re-typing. My thumb hovered, sweating, over the “send” button. A thousand thoughts racing: What if someone found out? What if the admin posted it publicly? What if the person I wrote about ever saw it?

But the more I tried to swallow it down, the worse it got.

Because there’s something cruel about wanting someone you shouldn’t. Something heavier when the people around you—your friends—start circling that same person too.

So I gave up. I bled into that empty white box and hit send.

> What do you do if you like someone you’re not supposed to like?

And worse… what if your best friend likes them too?

The moment the message went out, I felt both sick and relieved, like I’d confessed to a stranger on a train I’d never see again. But the weight didn’t leave me. If anything, it got worse.

And now? Still nothing. No reply.

Love, Anonymous usually had answers in hours, sometimes minutes. Advice that was sharp, sometimes brutal, sometimes warm enough to make you believe in things again. Everyone at school was addicted to them, waiting to see what they’d say next, like their words were gospel.

But me? I was still waiting.

I let my eyes flicker back to Aeliana. She was bent over her notebook, neat handwriting flowing in a straight line, the very picture of composure. She’d never understand someone like me. She’d never get what it felt like to want something forbidden, something fragile, something that could ruin everything if I even reached out.

And maybe that’s why it hurt more.

Because every time I looked at her, I didn’t just see the angel everyone else worshipped.

I saw the one person I wanted most.

And the one person I could never have.

The bell rang, a sharp, metallic screech that jolted half the class awake. Chairs scraped back, papers shuffled, and the steady buzz of hallway noise spilled into the room.

I stayed slouched in my seat, twirling my pen between my fingers as everyone rushed for the door. Aeliana moved with her usual grace, sliding her books neatly into her bag before standing. She didn’t look around, didn’t rush, didn’t stumble. She never did.

And just like that, she was gone.

“Yo, Darv!”

I looked up to see Kai striding over, his grin as cocky as always. Kai was the closest thing I had to a best friend—a whirlwind of energy, trouble, and shameless flirting. Where I kept people at arm’s length, he collected them like trophies.

“You spacing out again?” he asked, slamming a hand against my desk. “Or are you finally dreaming about someone worth your time?”

I rolled my eyes and stuffed my pen into my pocket. “Dreaming about not failing math.”

Kai laughed. “Please. We both know you don’t lose sleep over school.” He leaned in, lowering his voice just enough. “So who was it? Don’t tell me it’s Lyra. Half the guys in this school would kill for a chance with her.”

I tensed before I could stop myself. Lyra. Of course. The girl was magnetic—bubbly, beautiful, fearless in a way that made people notice. And yeah, Kai wasn’t wrong. Most guys here wouldn’t hesitate.

But not me.

“Not interested,” I muttered, brushing past him toward the hallway.

Kai followed, unfazed. “Then who? Don’t tell me you’re hung up on Aeliana Laziel.” He smirked. “The school’s very own ice queen.”

My steps faltered for half a second. Just half. Enough for Kai’s grin to sharpen.

“No way,” he drawled, bumping my shoulder. “You? Crushing on someone who probably color-codes her socks?”

“Shut up,” I muttered, but my ears burned.

The thing about Kai was—he always said things as a joke. Loud, ridiculous, meant to stir people up. But sometimes his jokes cut too close to the truth.

We stepped out into the afternoon air, the courtyard buzzing with students heading for the gates. And that’s when I saw them.

Aeliana. And Lyra.

Walking side by side, their heads bent close in conversation. Aeliana’s expression calm, like always, but Lyra’s eyes lit with excitement as she said something, her smile bright enough to make people glance twice.

I didn’t have to hear the words to know who she was talking about.

Darv Aeris. Me.

A bitter taste rose in my mouth.

Kai followed my gaze and let out a low whistle. “See? Lyra’s way more your speed. Don’t even pretend you’re not into it.”

I shoved my hands into my pockets and turned away. “Drop it.”

But even as I walked off, trying to shake him, my chest felt heavier. Lyra’s laugh echoed behind me, sharp and careless, while Aeliana’s silence stretched like a shadow.

Two girls. One louder than the sun. The other quieter than a storm you didn’t see coming.

And me—stuck somewhere in between, choking on a secret I couldn’t tell anyone.

That night, I collapsed onto my bed, phone in hand, the glow of the screen painting my ceiling in pale blue. Notifications stacked one after another, messages piling into the Love, Anonymous account I followed like everyone else.

Confessions scrolled past my eyes: silly ones, desperate ones, ugly ones. And still, no reply to mine.

I opened it again, staring at the words like they might change if I read them enough times.

> What do you do if you like someone you’re not supposed to like?

And worse… what if your best friend likes them too?

The screen blurred for a second. I dragged a hand over my face.

Why did I even care? Why was I waiting for some faceless stranger’s approval, some digital ghost to tell me what I already knew? That I was screwed. That there was no winning in this. That either way, I’d break something—my friendship, my pride, maybe even myself.

I set the phone down, but it didn’t help. The silence of my room made the words louder.

And through it all, one image kept flashing in my mind: Aeliana Laziel, her sunlight hair catching the window’s glow, her pen steady, her mask flawless.

Untouchable.

Unreachable.

Unforgettable.

The kind of person I had no business wanting.

And yet… the only one I did.