Chapter 4

(Aeliana’s POV)

Ring. Ring. Ring.

The alarm drilled into my skull, and I slapped at my phone until the sound finally died. For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, willing my body to move. Another day. Another mask to wear.

I rolled over and reached for the second phone—the one no one knew about. The one with the cracked corner and plain black case, hidden under my pillow like a secret lover.

The screen blinked to life, and instantly, my notifications exploded. Hundreds of messages.

Love, Anonymous.

My inbox was chaos. Overnight, confessions had poured in:

> “I kissed my best friend’s boyfriend, do I tell her?”

“How do you stop falling for someone who only sees you as a friend?”

“Is it bad that I like two people at the same time?”

My eyes skimmed through them, fingers moving fast, deleting, organizing, tagging the ones worth answering. The rest would sit there, untouched—fuel for the gossip-hungry students of Elmbrook Academy.

But then my gaze snagged on one.

The one.

The message that had been sitting there for more than twenty-four hours. The one I hadn’t answered yet.

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

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

Even now, the words made my stomach twist. Not because it was unusual—I got hundreds of messages like this. But there was something about the way it was written. Simple. Raw. Like the sender hadn’t been able to breathe until they hit send.

I should’ve answered it by now. That’s what Love, Anonymous does—deliver quick, sharp truths before rumors start to rot. But instead, I’d stared at it for hours yesterday, unable to think of what to say.

Because what advice do you give when you’re living it yourself?

Lyra’s voice from yesterday still echoed in my head.

> “Darv Aeris is… different. I think I like him.”

I’d smiled. I’d nodded. I’d played the supportive best friend, the role I was supposed to fill. But something inside me had flinched, sharp and ugly. Because if Lyra liked Darv, then what did that mean for the way my chest tightened every time he walked past?

I closed my eyes, pressing the phone against my forehead. You can’t like him, Aeliana. You can’t.

Darv Aeris was trouble wrapped in broad shoulders and lazy smirks. He was the kind of boy who made teachers sigh and girls whisper. He was… everything I wasn’t supposed to want.

But the problem with secrets is—they recognize each other.

And somehow, I knew that message was his.

By the time I made it to school, my mask was back in place. Hair perfect, uniform crisp, smile polite. Students greeted me in the hallway, and I returned every nod, every hello, like a queen acknowledging her subjects.

Lyra was waiting at my locker, her energy bouncing even in the early morning.

“Morning, Elia!” she chirped, looping her arm through mine. Her bracelets jingled as she leaned in. “Guess what?”

I smiled automatically. “What?”

“I think Darv looked at me yesterday.” Her grin widened. “Like—really looked.”

My heart stuttered, but my face didn’t flinch. “Maybe he was just zoning out. You know how he is.”

Lyra pouted, then shrugged. “Maybe. But still… I’m not giving up.”

Of course she wasn’t. Lyra never gave up on anything she wanted. And usually, that was one of the things I loved about her. Usually.

But now, every word she said felt like a match against dry paper.

I forced a laugh. “Well, good luck with that.”

We walked together toward class, Lyra rambling about something else—her hair, her weekend plans, a new playlist she wanted me to hear. I nodded at the right times, but my thoughts stayed tangled in a single thread.

Darv.

And the unread message sitting in my inbox.

In class, I sat in my usual spot near the window, sunlight spilling over my desk. I could feel him two rows behind me. I didn’t have to look. The air shifted when he was near, heavy in a way that made it impossible to ignore.

I kept my gaze forward, pen steady, posture perfect. But inside, my mind was chaos.

Did he know I ran the account? Did he suspect? No, impossible. I’d been careful. Every answer typed in a neutral tone, every word designed to hide me. No one could connect Aeliana Laziel—the model student—with Love, Anonymous.

And yet…

When I finally risked a glance over my shoulder, Darv was already looking at me.

Not with his usual lazy smirk. Not with the mocking sharpness people whispered about.

Just looking.

And for a split second, I thought—he knows.

The breath caught in my throat. I turned back to my notes before my mask cracked.

The day dragged like a weight tied to my ankles.

Everywhere I turned, there he was. In the hallway, leaning against the lockers with that effortless slouch. In the cafeteria, tossing an apple into the air while Kai made some wild joke. In the library, pretending to study but twirling his pen with that restless rhythm that made me think he’d rather be anywhere else.

And every time, I felt it. His eyes.

Not constantly, not enough for anyone else to notice, but enough for me to feel it in my bones.

By lunch, my nerves were raw.

Lyra plopped down across from me, tray full of fries and soda, her voice spilling like sunlight.

“So, tell me honestly.” She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Do you think Darv would like someone like me?”

I froze mid-bite, my fork clinking against the edge of my plate.

She didn’t notice. She was too busy twirling a fry between her fingers, eyes dreamy. “I mean, he’s so mysterious. Kind of dangerous, but in a hot way, you know? He’s nothing like the guys I’ve dated before.”

Dangerous. She said it like it was a challenge. Like it was an accessory she could wear.

I swallowed hard. “Maybe,” I said finally, careful to keep my tone light. “But Darv doesn’t really… date, does he?”

Lyra shrugged. “That just makes it more exciting.” Her grin turned mischievous. “Besides, I think I’ve caught his eye. Yesterday, when we walked past him? He definitely noticed me.”

Her words landed like stones in my stomach. Not because they weren’t true—Lyra was impossible to ignore. But because some selfish, ugly part of me wished she was wrong.

I forced a smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “If you think so.”

Lyra beamed, satisfied, then launched into another story about her weekend plans. I nodded when I was supposed to, but inside, my chest felt hollow.

Because while Lyra saw Darv as a game, a prize to chase—

I saw him as a secret I wasn’t allowed to want.

The final bell rang, and I escaped home like the walls of the academy were closing in on me.

My room was the only place I could breathe. The curtains drawn, the desk neat, the books lined in perfect order. A space where Aeliana Laziel could slip off her crown and just… be.

I powered on the second phone, heart already racing before the screen lit up.

The message was still there. Untouched. Waiting.

> 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 sat on my bed, legs folded beneath me, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

I could almost see him as he wrote it. Jaw clenched. Deleting and retyping. Hesitating before hitting send.

Darv Aeris. The boy everyone thought they knew, but no one really did.

And somehow, he had trusted me—even if he didn’t know it was me.

I typed the first thing that came to mind.

> Sometimes the people we want are the ones we’re meant to stay away from.

I stared at it. Too harsh. Too final. I deleted it.

I tried again.

> If your friend likes the same person, maybe it’s better to let them have a chance. Some things aren’t worth losing a friendship over.

My chest ached as I read it. Did I even believe that? Would I really step aside for Lyra, if it came to that?

Delete.

I tried again.

> What do you do if you like someone you’re not supposed to like? Maybe you ask yourself why. Maybe it’s not about what’s allowed, but what’s real.

I froze, breath caught in my throat.

That one felt… true. Too true.

I set the phone down like it had burned me. My hands trembled, and I pressed them to my lap, nails biting into my skin.

I couldn’t send it. Not yet. Because if I did, it would feel like admitting something to myself that I wasn’t ready to say out loud.

So I left the draft there, unsent.

And for the first time, the great, flawless Aeliana Laziel didn’t have an answer.

The next morning, my mask was heavier than usual.

I sat in class, pretending to focus on the equations scrawled across the board, when my pen slipped from my fingers. It clattered against the floor, rolling back two rows—straight to him.

Darv bent down, caught it easily in one hand, and set it back on my desk. Our eyes met, and something flickered in his expression.

Like he could see through me.

Like he knew.

“Thanks,” I whispered, my voice quieter than I meant it to be.

He didn’t answer. He just leaned back in his seat, tapping his pen against the desk in that restless rhythm again. But the weight of his gaze lingered, and for the first time all day, my mask cracked.

Because maybe—just maybe—Love, Anonymous wasn’t as anonymous as I thought.

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