I was scrolling through Instagram when a photo on my explore page stopped me dead in my tracks. It was my face, my bedroom, even the pale-blue pajamas I had bought three weeks earlier—but beneath the picture, a man I had never met was asking strangers why his girlfriend kept refusing to meet him.
Chapter 2
Madison had told us enough about Julian’s habits that finding him was easy. Saturday afternoons he played basketball at the campus athletic center with his younger brother, who attended our university. Around four, he usually walked to the parking garage alone.
I chose a white sundress.
Not because it was my favorite.
Because Madison had once bragged that Julian loved long hair and simple white dresses.
I let my hair down, tucked one side back with a clip, and waited near the coffee shop across from the gym.
When Julian appeared, he looked less like a millionaire’s son than I expected. He wore gray sweatpants, a plain T-shirt, and carried an old gym bag over one shoulder.
I checked my phone.
Then stepped directly into him.
My books scattered across the sidewalk.
“Oh my God. I’m sorry.”
His arm caught my waist before I fell.
Then he saw my face.
He froze.
I watched disbelief move through his expression.
Not desire.
Recognition.
“Rose?”
I pretended not to hear.
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking.”
I gathered my books quickly and walked away.
“Wait.”
I kept moving.
“Miss, please wait.”
His footsteps came closer.
When he caught my wrist, I turned sharply.
“What are you doing?”
He released me immediately.
“I’m sorry.”
Good.
First test passed.
He took a step backward.
“I just thought—”
“You thought what?”
He stared at me.
“You don’t know me?”
I gave him a confused smile.
“Should I?”
He looked almost dizzy.
“I guess not.”
“Is this some pickup line?”
“No.”
“Because it needs work.”
For the first time, embarrassment replaced confusion.
“I’m sorry. You look exactly like somebody I know.”
“Well, I’m late.”
I gave him a small wave.
“Have a good afternoon.”
He did not follow me again.
I walked all the way to the library before letting myself breathe normally.
That night, Madison’s phone rang.
The moment she saw the caller’s name, panic flashed across her face.
She hurried onto the balcony.
When she returned, her complexion was almost gray.
“Where were you today, Chloe?”
I looked up from my laptop.
“Library.”
“What else?”
“Coffee.”
“Did you talk to anyone?”
“Why?”
“I’m asking.”
Sarah looked over from her bed.
I glanced down at my white dress.
Madison noticed.
“You wore that?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you hated that dress.”
“You’re the one who said you hated it.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Julian had a weird day.”
“Did he?”
“He thought he saw me.”
The room became very quiet.
“On campus,” she added quickly. “He thought he saw me and I didn’t recognize him.”
Sarah frowned.
“That sounds pretty specific for a hallucination.”
“Obviously it wasn’t me.”
Madison climbed into bed and pulled the curtain shut.
I heard frantic typing almost immediately.
The seed had been planted.
Two days later, Julian found me.
I was working an afternoon shift at the campus coffee shop, a job Madison regularly mocked because she considered hourly wages beneath anyone with decent looks.
The bell above the door rang.
“Welcome,” I called. “Be with you in a second.”
“I’ll take a black coffee.”
I recognized the voice.
When I turned, Julian stood at the counter wearing a navy jacket.
His expression was controlled, but his eyes told me he had been thinking about me for forty-eight hours.
“What size?”
He blinked.
“You work here.”
“Usually people answer medium or large.”
“Medium.”
I grabbed a cup.
“Name?”
A pause.
“Julian.”
I wrote it down without reacting.
He watched every movement.
After I handed him the coffee, he remained at the counter.
“Can I ask something?”
“If it’s quick.”
“Do you know someone named Madison Chen?”
I let silence sit between us.
“Why?”
“She lives in Hartwell Hall.”
“So do hundreds of students.”
“Room 214.”
I set down my cleaning cloth.
“How do you know my room number?”
His face tightened.
“I thought my girlfriend lived there.”
“Thought?”
“Her name is Rose.”
I looked at him.
“Your girlfriend is named Rose?”
“At least, that’s what she told me.”
That uncertainty was enough.
“I think we should sit down.”
On my break, we took the table near the window with the uneven leg.
I opened Madison’s real social profile and turned my phone toward him.
“That’s Madison.”
Julian’s expression changed.
He looked at the picture of my roommate, then at me.
“That’s Rose.”
“No.”
I met his eyes.
“That’s Madison Chen. She’s lived three feet away from me for eight months.”
His breathing slowed.
“The pictures?”
“Mine.”
“The video calls?”
“I don’t know how she did those.”
“Voice filter, probably.”
His hands tightened around the coffee cup.
“She sent me photographs every day.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because three days ago, your post appeared on my explore page.”
I told him about the pajama photograph.
The takeout receipt with my name.
The bracelet.
The bags.
The money.
Julian stared out the window for a long time.
“A year,” he said finally.
“I’m sorry.”
“I sent her thousands of dollars.”
“I know.”
“My grandmother’s birthday. My father’s surgery. My problems with my brother. I told her everything.”
I understood then why he looked so shattered.
It wasn’t just the photographs.
Someone had stolen a year of trust.
“There’s something else you should know,” he said.
“What?”
“I had a girlfriend at Columbia when this started.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“We were separated. Technically on a break. It had been bad for a long time, and I was lonely. I downloaded an app, met Rose, and…”
He stopped.
“I thought she was real.”
“She was real,” I said. “Just not in the way you believed.”
He looked at me.
“Why tell me?”
“Because she used my face.”
“That’s all?”
“No.”
I thought of Madison asking if losing weight would make her look like me.
“You deserved to know who you were actually talking to.”
Julian nodded slowly.
“Thank you, Chloe.”
It was the first time he used my real name.
That evening, Madison announced that Julian finally wanted to meet.
“This Saturday,” she said brightly. “He says he’s tired of waiting.”
Sarah glanced at me.
I kept typing.
“How exciting,” I said.
Madison studied my face.
“You don’t sound excited.”
“I barely know him.”
“You wish you did.”
I looked up.
“What?”
She smiled.
“Nothing.”
Later, my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
This is Julian. I’m outside Hartwell. Can you come down for ten minutes? I want to ask you something before I confront her.
I went downstairs.
Julian stood beneath the dorm lights with his hands in his coat pockets.
“I told her I’m coming Saturday.”
“What did she say?”
“Yes.”
“First time?”
“In a year.”
He gave a humorless laugh.
“She thinks she can solve this before then.”
“Probably.”
“I want you there.”
I studied him.
“Why?”
“Because she stole your identity. This isn’t just between her and me.”
That answer mattered.
“You’re asking instead of deciding for me.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll come.”
He nodded.
Then his expression changed.
“The collision near the gym.”
I waited.
“That wasn’t an accident.”
“No.”
“You knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
“You were testing me.”
“Yes.”
He almost smiled.
“What exactly was the test?”
“I needed to see what you would do if a woman walked away from you.”
His smile disappeared.
“When I grabbed your wrist—”
“You released me the second I looked frightened.”
“I shouldn’t have grabbed you.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
We stood quietly beneath the autumn trees.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “Seven o’clock. Coffee shop on Fifth Street.”
“I’ll be there.”
Upstairs, Madison was humming as she tried on outfits.
She had no idea that the man she had deceived for a year was standing outside.
And she certainly did not know I had just agreed to sit beside him when her imaginary life finally met reality.
