Emily had always been good at managing her online persona—quirky, sarcastic, a little aloof. But tonight, something felt different. She wasn't posting for her usual audience.
There was no clever caption, no trending sound, no self-deprecating humor. This time, it was just her. Vulnerable.
Honest.
She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, her feet tucked under her as she stared at the camera. It felt like a confession.
"Hey, so… I guess this is the part where I tell you about my perfect life," she began, the camera angle slightly off, showing her messy flat and the half-full coffee cup on the table.
"Some nights, I feel like I'm caught between who I am online and who I want to be in real life," she said, her voice quivering slightly. "I hide behind filters and witty one-liners because it's easier than facing the truth. But maybe it's time to let the real me in."
It was a confession disguised as content—vulnerable, yet still playful. In those final few seconds, she exhaled as if releasing a secret, and then ended with a half-smile that barely managed to mask her uncertainty.
At the same time, thousands of miles away in his sleek penthouse in London, Ethan's world was crumbling in ways he hadn't foreseen. The morning had begun with a ringing phone that jolted him out of sleep—a barrage of alerts from his press team. It appeared that a former partner had leaked internal emails, setting off a chain reaction that threatened to upend his company's image. In the sterile glow of his boardroom, as executives exchanged wary glances and murmurs of disbelief filled the room, Ethan felt more alone than ever before.
He'd been trying to focus on the crisis—a takeover attempt looming over his business, one that threatened not only his reputation but the empire he'd built with such painstaking control—but all his thoughts kept spiraling back to her.
Between calls with lawyers and frantic strategy sessions, Ethan stole a moment alone in his opulent office. Surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows and the city's neon heartbeat below, he scrolled through his phone with an intensity that belied the turbulence within. Then it happened—a familiar yet electrifying ping.
WittyOne88: "Ever feel like you're screaming into the void, hoping someone will hear the truth?"
Ethan's pulse quickened. His fingers hovered as he composed a response. There was a vulnerability in her message that mirrored the fissures in his own carefully constructed world. Yet even amid the crisis, he could not tear his attention away from her.
Ethan: "I do. Sometimes the truth is all we have to cling to."
He hesitated, then added on a whim: "That red brick… It reminds me of home. Which is funny, because sometimes I think I left a piece of my heart behind in London."
That simple remark cut through the noise of corporate alarms and media inquiries. It was a moment of stillness—a fleeting connection that left him both excited and dreadfully exposed.
A voice behind him broke his reverie—Charlie's, soft yet insistent. "Ethan, the board wants an update. They're not waiting forever."
Ethan nodded absently, but his mind was already elsewhere. Every second that ticked by strengthened his resolve. He needed to see her—needed to know if her presence was as real as the chaos at his fingertips.
Later that night, after the board had been pacified for the moment and the crises were temporarily managed by his trust in his team, Ethan sat alone in his private study. The glow of his computer illuminated his face as he reviewed the TikTok post.
The red brick in the background was unmistakable now—a landmark that he recognized from his countless trips around London. It wasn't in his immediate vicinity, but it was a strong indicator of where she might be.
His best friend had called him earlier, his tone laced with warning. "Ethan, you're slipping. You've got a company to run. Don't lose yourself chasing a ghost."
But Ethan couldn't silence the voice that insisted she was real—more real than all the numbers and board meetings combined. The connection.
She looked different tonight. There was no sparkle in her eyes, no sarcastic quip. She looked… real. And that's when it hit him—he hadn't realized how much he'd been waiting for this.
He watched the video through once, then again. It wasn't like her usual posts, and yet, he couldn't tear his eyes away. It was raw. Honest. Vulnerable.
His thoughts raced. Had she… had she posted this for him? To say something?
Just as he was about to respond, another message pinged through. A work-related email. Another problem. Another crisis.
Ethan sighed, putting his phone down, the sense of urgency pressing on him from all sides. But even as his mind scrambled to focus on the task at hand, his fingers itched to text Emily. To tell her how he felt.
But that would have to wait.
Emily leaned back against her couch, staring blankly at her phone. She was feeling too much. Vulnerable, exposed. The comments would flood in soon, the praise, the questions. She wasn't sure if she was ready for it.
The ping of a message broke the silence. Ethan.
"You okay?"
The message was simple. Sweet. He cared.
She wasn't sure what to say. How could she explain this feeling? That part of her—her real self—was reaching out, even if it was too much to share with the world. She bit her lip and typed back.
"Yeah. Just… figuring things out."
She threw her phone aside, burying her face in her hands.
What the hell was she doing?