Part 1Escaping Their Dangerous Obsessive Love Games

Piper always lived under the delusion that I was a trophy she’d managed to snatch from someone else’s hands through sheer, calculated manipulation.

What was truly exhausting, though, was her attempt to goad her best friend—the "one who got away" in her own twisted narrative, Isabel—into trying to steal me, too.

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity," she had told Isabel back then. I remember the smugness in her voice. "Back when he was single, girls were practically tripping over themselves to get near him. Now? It’s just him and his girlfriend. There’s no competition."

She paused, taking a slow sip of her wine. "Love is a game of skill, Isabel. If you’ve got the moves, you take the throne. If you don’t, you bow out gracefully."

The very next day, I received a DM from Isabel. Attached was a photo.

"I heard you don't give the time of day to girls without a toned core," the message read. In the photo, she was pulling up her workout top to reveal a razor-sharp six-pack. "I’ve got the abs. Can I get a reply now?"

I was hovering my thumb over the screen, ready to type out a polite but firm rejection, when my vision suddenly flickered. Strange, translucent lines of text—like a live-stream chat—began scrolling across the air in front of me.

[Ugh, this side character... just cheat already!] one comment read. [If it weren't for you blocking the way, the Male Lead could have been rescued by the Heroine ages ago. He wouldn't have to suffer in the slums.]

Another followed immediately: [The Heroine is only staying with this loser because she’s afraid if they break up, he’ll go back to bullying the Male Lead. She’s literally praying he’ll hook up with the side-chick so she can be free.]

Then came one that chilled me to the bone: [Stop hating on him. If this guy doesn't break up with her soon, he’s slated for the 'tragic ending.' Once the Heroine and Male Lead finally get together, he’s going to get kidnapped, assaulted, and eventually die of a terminal illness in a gutter.]

I froze. My heart hammered against my ribs. Without a second thought, I called Piper, ended things right then and there, and accepted Isabel’s invitation.

But I’d barely finished moving my boxes into Isabel’s penthouse before Piper showed up at her sister-friend's door, brandishing a kitchen knife.

"You used every dirty trick I taught you against me!" Piper screamed, her voice cracking with a manic edge.

"I taught you how to steal from others, you bitch! I didn't tell you to steal from me!"

* * *

I had just finished unpacking the last of my suitcases when I heard the commotion outside.

Piper was standing in the driveway, shrieking insults at her "best friend," her face contorted with rage. Fearing things were about to turn bloody, I stepped between them, my hands raised in a gesture of forced calm.

"Piper, stop it," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Can you please just stop making a scene?"

Piper looked like she was vibrating with lethal intent. But as soon as I spoke, the fire in her eyes died down, replaced by a haunting, glassy red.

"Stop making a scene?" she whispered. "Is that what you think this is?"

She took a step closer, her breath hitching. "I was a fool. I sat there like a total idiot, coaching that snake on how to seduce a man, never imagining she was practicing her lines for you."

Her voice broke into a sob. "Parker, she took everything. She took my pride, she took my life, and she took you. Can’t you see how much I’m hurting? Please, just... come home with me."

She became increasingly hysterical, the knife in her hand trembling so violently I thought she might drop it on her own foot. She reached out with her free hand, tracing the line of my arm until her fingers locked with mine.

For a split second, my heart softened. I opened my mouth to offer some kind of explanation, some comfort—but then the glitches returned.

[Wait, is this side character actually falling for this? Does he really think she wants him back out of love?]

[Don’t be so full of yourself. The Heroine is just testing to see if you’re actually gone for good. She needs to make sure you won't come crawling back to haunt her once she’s finally with her 'True Soulmate.']

[Gotta hand it to her, the crying is top-tier. The 'devastated ex' act almost fooled me, too. Perfect performance.]

[Alright, wrap up the melodrama. Why is he still holding her hand? Can't he see the Heroine is literally cringing inside? Look at her eyebrows—she’s disgusted.]

I looked at Piper. She was practically on her knees, her face a mask of Shakespearean tragedy.

Was it all just a script?

My hand jerked back as if I’d touched a live wire. I tore my fingers away from hers.

She looked up, startled. A fresh layer of mist coated her eyes. Here we go again, I thought. The waterworks.

I looked away, my voice turning cold and flat. "We’re done, Piper. Please. Stop haunting my life."

I didn’t wait for her to respond. I grabbed Isabel’s hand and pulled her toward the house.

Behind us, the clouds broke. A sudden, torrential downpour began to lash the pavement. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the second-floor living room, I looked down. Piper was still there, standing exactly where I’d left her, soaked to the bone and motionless.

"Feeling guilty?" Isabel asked. Her tone was a cocktail of mockery and comfort, with a twist of something I couldn't quite place. "I can have the housekeeper call her a car if you want."

I shook my head.

Ever since I realized I was just a "disposable male lead"—a plot device destined for a gruesome end—I had started suffocating the feelings I had for Piper. I couldn't let them grow. I was terrified of the point of no return.

Maybe our entire relationship had been a glitch from the start.

When I was going through a messy breakup with my previous ex, Piper had played the part of the "supportive friend" for months. She handled the drama, dealt with the toxic fallout, and was the shoulder I cried on. When she finally asked to be with me, I hesitated. It felt too soon.

She accepted my rejection with such grace, such quiet patience, that I found myself drawn to her. I fell for that image of the calm, restrained woman who knew how to hold space for someone.

Then, the moment we went official, the mask shattered.

She became a "velvet handcuffs" kind of girlfriend. Obsessive. Clingy. She monitored my every move. If I came home late, she cried. If I missed a text, she cried. If I didn't hold her in my sleep, she cried.

As a low-energy person, the constant emotional labor of "fixing" her moods had drained me to the husk. Now that the burden was gone, I should have been ecstatic.

A warm hand slid over the back of mine. Isabel.

She smiled. Unlike Piper’s performative warmth, Isabel’s composure felt like something forged in the fires of experience. It was solid. Unshakable.

"I honestly don't mind," she said softly, "if you just want to use me as a rebound. Or a distraction."

I looked at her. Her face bore no resemblance to Piper’s. I thought to myself: Maybe this is what I need. Someone older, someone who can lead, someone who doesn't need me to be her entire world.