The Nemesis Who Carried Me Online

After being paired with my arch-rival on three hundred trending Twitter hashtags in a single month, I broke down and sent a tearful voice note to my gaming carry slash e-boyfriend. "Babe, people are saying that jerk and I are a match made in heaven again today! It's driving me crazy!" He replied in seconds. "Don't listen to those idiots. What do they know about who you belong with?" That night, my pro-gamer boyfriend carried me through fifteen straight ranked wins and spent two solid hours roasting my nemesis with me. My mood soared, and I fell fast asleep. The next morning, the second I opened my eyes, a brand-new hashtag hit the top of the trending page: #EthanVanceAndSummerMillerAtCityHall. Fuming, I tapped into my boyfriend's chat window, only to be greeted by an automated reply: Away on a three-month business trip. Won't be online. Before I could even process the devastating blow of my online boyfriend seemingly ghosting me, my manager's call blew up my phone. "Summer! You will never guess who just signed on as a series regular for your next big primetime reality show!" "It's Ethan Vance! The superstar who literally never does unscripted TV!" My ill-fated connection with Ethan Vance started back when we were toddlers in diapers. Our moms were best friends, and we ended up in the same class from preschool all the way through high school. He had been gorgeous since childhood—the kind of golden boy teachers adored and girls chased after with love letters. And I couldn't stand him. Because he constantly stole my spotlight. In third grade, when I finally clawed my way to class vice president, he was elected class president. In middle school, my favorite cool upperclassman only befriended me so I could pass love notes to Ethan. At our high school graduation, I gave a speech as a student representative. He took the stage right after me, and the applause for him was three times louder. I thought entering showbiz would send us our separate ways and let us ignore each other for the rest of our lives. And what happened? He skyrocketed to A-list superstardom right out of the gate, while I dragged myself through three brutal years just to scrape into the B-list. Whether the studios were intentionally milking the publicity or fate just had a sick sense of humor, it didn't matter. Over the past month, our names had been glued together like industrial epoxy. When our fantasy drama aired, he played the aloof, divine master and I played the wicked villainess. The entire internet cheered: #EthanVanceRidsTheWorldOfEvil. On the film festival red carpet, I tripped and accidentally yanked his pant leg. The hashtag #SummerMillerPlannedIt trended for three days. Last month, paparazzi snapped us entering the same exclusive private dining lounge one after the other. In reality, he had snatched the VIP private room I'd booked six months in advance! Yet what did the headlines say? #EthanVanceSummerMillerLateNightRendezvous! The shippers lost their minds: "Enemies to lovers! The fated tension is off the charts!" As if! This month alone, our names stood shoulder to shoulder on the trending page a full three hundred times. That was more often than I ate meals. My best friend envied me, saying that being attached to such an ethereal, god-tier face made my clout skyrocket every day. Only I knew what a conniving jerk Ethan truly was. Glancing at that damn guy for even one second felt like it shaved ten years off my lifespan. The most absurd one happened yesterday: #EthanVanceSummerMillerCityHallLeak. I had literally just gone to the studio next door to City Hall to film a TV segment. Paparazzi lying in wait snapped pictures and spun it into a secret marriage license run. I was so pissed that I messaged my gaming boyfriend in tears. "Babe, people are saying that jerk and I are a match made in heaven again today! It's driving me crazy!" My gaming carry boyfriend was someone I had met online three months ago. Back then, Ethan had just snatched a luxury brand ambassadorship from under my nose, and I hopped onto the game in a foul mood to blow off steam. This guy carried the entire match all on his own, so I swallowed my pride and sent a friend request. After that, we played together almost every night, slowly drifting into an online relationship. Though he had a sharp tongue in-game and constantly teased me for having garbage mechanics, he was fiercely protective. Whenever an enemy player messed with me, he was always the first to hunt them down for revenge. Most importantly, he hated Ethan Vance just as much as I did. Every time I vented about Ethan, he cursed him out right alongside me, even harsher than I did. Seeing how angry he got on my behalf always made me feel a lot better. Last night, when I complained that Ethan wasn't even human, he instantly chimed in with smooth agreement: "Yeah, an absolute monster. Our baby is the bigger person here; don't lower yourself to that dog's level." He carried me through fifteen straight ranked stars while roasting my nemesis with me for two straight hours. He cheered me up so well that I slept peacefully. Right before drifting off, I even thought to myself that once this media storm blew over, I had to meet him in person. Then, the moment I opened my eyes the next morning, I took a double hit from the trending hashtag and my boyfriend's auto-reply. And before I could even reel from the shock of my online boyfriend seemingly running off on me, I got hit with a third blow: Ethan Vance was joining the exact same reality show as me. ...He was definitely out to ruin my life!I clutched my phone, my fingertips trembling. "Sarah, are you sure it's Ethan Vance? The Ethan Vance who claims he's allergic to reality shows?" My manager, Sarah, sounded like she was floating on air over the line. "One hundred percent! Production just sent over the confirmation! Summer, your golden era is here!" "With superstar Ethan on board, this show's ratings are going to shatter records! Play your cards right and ride this wave straight to the A-list!" My vision went dark. A-list? More like straight to the afterlife. Ethan Vance and me on the same reality show? Wouldn't that be Mars slamming into Earth, blowing right through the planet's core? I tried to push back. "Sarah! You're like a sister to me!" "You know what things are like between Ethan and me. Can you please turn it down? Just say I've been feeling under the weather lately." "Turn it down?!" Sarah cut me off immediately. "Do you know how many starlets are clawing each other's eyes out just to share a stage with Ethan Vance? This is Ethan's reality TV debut! The hype! The buzz!" "My sweet girl, this is a gift from the heavens! The show is already blowing up before it even airs. Your market value is about to skyrocket!" I fumed. "I'd rather keep my current value!" "Wake up, Summer Miller," Sarah's tone turned dead serious. "Forget feeling under the weather—even if you're hooked up to life support in the ICU, you're crawling out of that bed to film this show!" "Oh, by the way," Sarah suddenly lowered her voice. "Word is, Ethan's team specifically requested plenty of on-screen interactions with you. Do you think he..." "Does he want to speed-run my funeral?" I ground my teeth. Sarah sighed in exasperation. "You! You're just too stubborn! In this industry, bad press is still press. The buzz around you and Ethan is a godsend. You'd be an idiot not to cash in. Besides, the contract is already signed. The breach-of-contract penalty is this much." She named a figure, and all the fight drained out of me instantly. Fine. Well played. For the paycheck, I would endure it. But the grudge between Ethan and me remained completely irreconcilable. After hanging up, I collapsed onto the bed, totally dead inside. I unlocked my phone. Staring at my gaming boyfriend's gray avatar and that icy automated reply, my chest tightened even more. At the most critical moment, the boyfriend I could rely on had vanished into thin air, while my insufferable arch-rival haunted me like a ghost. "Why did you have to go on a business trip right now?" "I'm about to film a reality show with that nightmare of a man for three months! Three whole months!" "How am I supposed to survive without you venting about him with me..." My messages sank like stones into an ocean. I tapped his profile. It was just a simple black silhouette. His feed was completely blank, except for a handful of generic game update shares. We had never even FaceTimed or exchanged photos. He told me his line of work was sensitive and required strict confidentiality, and I understood. After all, I hadn't told him about my job either. But now, he had vanished for three months without a single heads-up? Swallowing a wave of frustration, I tossed my phone aside. No, Summer Miller, you cannot admit defeat! Even without your gaming carry in your corner, you're going to wipe the floor with Ethan Vance on that show! I'd make sure he learned the hard way that I wasn't someone he could push around!On the set of Heartbeat Adventure. I wore a full face of glam and a polished, professional smile, cursing Ethan a million times over in my head. This show was the hottest outdoor competition reality series around, notorious for sadistic challenges and mercilessly pranking its celebrity cast. And Ethan and I were assigned to the exact same team. The producers claimed it was to ramp up dramatic tension and entertainment value. If you asked me, it was just ramping up the ways I could die of embarrassment. Ethan stood right across from me. He managed to make a basic athletic track jacket look like bespoke high fashion. The moment the camera swung his way, he flashed an impeccably warm, charming smile, sending the fans in the crowd into shrieking fits. "Fake. So ridiculously fake," I muttered under my breath. He seemed to catch it. His gaze drifted lazily over, lingering on my face for a heartbeat. A sudden chill ran down my spine. Why did I feel like a target locked in someone's crosshairs? The first game was the Mystery Touch Box. I had to be blindfolded and reach into mystery boxes to retrieve specific items while Ethan gave directions. Bracing myself, I shoved my hand into the first container. A slimy, squishy, gelatinous texture brushed against my skin, and I screeched, instantly yanking my hand back. "What—what is that?!" A trace of suppressed laughter colored Ethan's voice. "Looks like... soaked sea cucumber." I hated invertebrates more than anything on earth. "Ethan Vance, you did that on purpose!" I hissed under my breath. He put on an innocent face and spoke into his mic: "Summer seems a bit scared. Let me take this one." With that, he stepped smoothly to my side, reached in, and pulled out the sea cucumber with crisp, effortless efficiency. A chorus of swooning sighs—"So hot!" "Such a gentleman!"—rippled through the studio. Only I knew that when he leaned in close, he whispered at a volume meant strictly for the two of us: "Such a scaredy-cat, yet you dared to sign up for an adventure show?" My teeth ached from grinding them, but I had to keep smiling. "Thank you, Mr. Vance." For the second box, my fingers brushed against something fuzzy that actually wriggled, and I jumped back with another yelp. Once again, Ethan stepped in as the hero, pulling out a giant fake tarantula with his bare hand. "It's just plastic." He paused, glancing down at me. "Then again, some people are terrified of toys." The live stream chat went ballistic: [Aaaah, superstar Ethan is so sweet!] [He totally did that on purpose! He knows she hates this stuff!] [Enemies-to-lovers endgame! Lock them up and throw away the key!] Sweet, my ass! I screamed internally. He was getting off on watching me make a fool of myself! When it was his turn to reach into the boxes, he pulled out live loaches, dried cicada shells, and even a rubber snake without batting an eye. He stayed completely unfazed the entire time, looking like he was casually petting a house cat. Standing next to him, I looked like a hysterical, jumpy clown. During the break between games, I hid in a quiet corner sipping water, trying to steady my racing pulse. My phone buzzed. Hope flared in my chest and I whipped it out, only to find a piece of spam. My gaming boyfriend's avatar remained stubbornly gray. The wave of disappointment crashed over me all over again. "Whose text are you waiting for?" A cool voice drifted from behind me. Startled, I whipped around to see Ethan standing there. I hadn't even heard him approach. "None of your business," I snapped defensively. His eyes dropped to my screen, his gaze darkening slightly. "A boyfriend?" "What if he is?" I shoved my phone behind my back on instinct. He let out a soft scoff. "He's ignoring you? What, did you run into a player?" "He's busy with work, away on a business trip!" I shot back immediately. "And he's ten thousand times better than you! He'd never intentionally try to scare me!" Ethan's expression deepened. He took a single step toward me. "Summer Miller, you really think you know him that well?" He was standing too close. The crisp, clean scent of cedar rolling off him made it hard to draw a full breath. "Of course I know him," I held my ground, forcing myself to look him in the eye. "He's gentle, attentive, he games with me, listens to me vent, and comforts me whenever I'm having a rough time." "Unlike someone who does nothing but throw around sarcastic jabs." He studied me quietly for a long moment before asking, "You like him a lot?" "Obviously!" I nodded without hesitation. "If I don't like him, who am I supposed to like? You?" He raised an eyebrow, a cryptic, unreadable smirk tugging at his lips.By the time we reached the third episode of filming, the producers threw in an impromptu segment. The guests were required to show the last three apps they had recently used on their phones. When it was Ethan's turn, he visibly hesitated for a second. "Mr. Vance, show the screen, please," the host prodded playfully. With a slight air of resignation, he pulled out his phone and unlocked the screen. The first two were a music streaming app and an e-reader—completely standard. Until the third one. When that familiar gaming icon flashed across the giant monitor behind us, I froze. There was no way it could be that much of a coincidence. The host immediately picked up on it. "Oh? You play this game, Mr. Vance? That's actually pretty niche!" Ethan gave a calm, noncommittal hum. "Once in a while." A wild, completely absurd, utterly impossible theory suddenly struck my mind. No. It couldn't be. How could an untouchable superstar like Ethan Vance ever have the time to stay up all night gaming with me? Let alone spend hours roasting himself by my side? That sounded like pure fiction. And yet, the timing of my gaming boyfriend's disappearance lined up almost perfectly with when Ethan checked into the reality show's hotel. Plus, that cryptic smirk he'd given me earlier... Pressing a hand against my pounding chest, I decided to test the waters. During the mid-shoot intermission, I tapped into my gaming boyfriend's chat and sent a message: "Babe, are you busy today? While filming earlier, I tripped and almost took a nasty fall :(" The second I hit send, my eyes locked onto Ethan, who was getting a makeup touch-up not far away. His phone was resting on the small table beside him. Seconds ticked by. Ethan didn't move to check his phone at all. A tiny breath of relief slipped past my lips. See? I was clearly overthinking things. However, just a few minutes later, his assistant hurried over, murmured something in his ear, and handed him the device. Ethan took the phone, glanced down, and his brow furrowed slightly. Then, he lifted his head. His gaze sliced straight through the bustling crew and landed dead on me. My stomach dropped. Facing his phone, his thumbs flew across the screen at lightning speed. Almost simultaneously, the phone in my palm buzzed. My gaming boyfriend had replied! [How could you be so careless? Did you hit anything? Is it bad?] Me: "!!!" The blood rushed straight to my head in a deafening roar. My hands shook as I stared at the message. Reading that familiar, protective concern, I looked back up at the gorgeous man across the room, who was watching me with a deadpan, laser-focused intensity. My entire worldview shattered into a million pieces. Forcing myself to stay composed, I texted back: "I'm fine, just got startled. A coworker caught me." Ethan read the screen, and his face visibly darkened right before my eyes. His thumbs flew over the glass again. My phone chimed instantly. [A coworker? Male or female? Where did they touch you?] Me: "..." Confirmed. Busted. Undeniable. That unmistakable, possessive streak of jealousy. My pro-carry online boyfriend. My lifelong rival and childhood frenemy. Were. Actually. The. Same. Damn. Person! Ethan Vance! You absolute liar! You massive fraud! I shook with so much rage that I wanted to sprint across the stage and claw his handsome face off! Only the shred of sanity left in my skull held me back. We were in the middle of a live broadcast! Cameras were pointed everywhere! I couldn't blow my lid on air. Inhaling deeply, I forced a razor-thin smile onto my lips. Looking directly at Ethan, I silently mouthed four words: "I'm. Fine. Now. Coworker." Ethan clearly read my lips. He froze. Then, a profoundly complex expression washed over his features. There was no awkwardness from being exposed—only a fleeting flicker of fluster, followed by the reckless calm of someone ready to drop the act entirely. The corner of his mouth curved up, offering me a faint, dangerously predatory smile. As if saying: Oh, so you finally figured it out?