I'm Done Playing Your Twisted Game

I rushed into the rehearsal hall, still clutching the Icy Hot pain patches I had bought for Julian. But in the next second, I heard Hudson laughing inside. "The sixty-third time! It worked! I told you she’d even blow off her final audition for the National Dance Theater just for Julian!" "Only three more to go," someone chimed in, laughing. "Once she makes a fool of herself at the kids' recital, the sixty-six paybacks will be complete!" I froze outside the door. For three years, I thought Julian’s coldness toward me was just his personality. Until Melanie, draped in Julian's jacket, smiled and asked, "So, for the last three, how do you want to play her?" Julian didn't answer. But his silence was all the answer I needed. I looked down at the pain patches in my hand and suddenly smiled. It turned out the person I was desperately running toward had never even thought of catching me. If that was the case, I was done playing this game. As for what they owed me, I would claw it back, dollar by dollar, tear by tear. **Chloe's POV** I didn't even have time to change out of my pointe shoes before I bolted up to the third floor. I was still clutching the Icy Hot pain patches I had bought for Julian. Ten minutes ago, Julian's best friend, Hudson, sounded like he was on the verge of tears over the phone. He said Julian had broken his leg during rehearsal and couldn’t even stand up. And I, like a fool, believed him. For him, I abandoned my final audition for the National Dance Theater—an opportunity I had spent three years preparing for—and took a cab across the entire city just to save him. The door to the rehearsal hall was slightly ajar. There were no painful groans inside. No doctors, either. Julian was sitting casually on a chair with his legs crossed, a towel draped over his knee. He didn't look injured at all. Hudson was holding up his phone, recording and laughing hysterically. "The sixty-third time! It worked! I told you, as long as we use Julian’s name, that little puppy Chloe will throw away her dream audition in a heartbeat!" Someone next to him chimed in, "She’s so gullible. It's been three years. Does she really think Julian actually likes her?" Julian didn't laugh. He just casually spun the water bottle in his hand. "Alright, stop recording." "What? Feeling bad for her?" Hudson nudged his shoulder on purpose. "If she hadn't used dirty tricks to steal Melanie's solo back then, Melanie wouldn't have been depressed for so long. You promised you’d get Melanie her sixty-six paybacks! Don't go soft on us now!" Melanie sat by the mirror, wearing Julian's jacket. She looked so fragile, her voice practically dripping with innocence. "Let it go, guys. Chloe didn't mean to. She loves Julian so much. If she found out these three years were just a game, she wouldn't survive it." "Good! She shouldn't!" Hudson sneered. "Whatever Melanie suffered back then, we're making her pay back double!" "So, what's the plan for the last three?" Melanie looked at Julian and made a sweet, delicate suggestion. "Let’s not be too harsh. Just make her publicly admit she stole my spot back then. Give her a little warning. She’s so proud; making her get on her knees and apologize in front of everyone will probably hurt her worse than death." Outside the door, my hands turned ice-cold. The plastic bag in my hand crinkled under my tightening grip, deformimg the pain patches inside. It turned out that the heart I had poured out for three years was nothing more than a "payback checklist" to please Melanie. I remembered standing in a torrential downpour for three hours just to bring him an umbrella. I remembered skipping meals to save up and buy him expensive designer dance shoes. I remembered his cold face, his constant lateness, his canceled plans... I used to think he was just emotionally awkward. Now I knew every cold shoulder was a precisely calculated cut, designed to make another woman smile. "For the sixty-fourth payback, how about we mess with her kid's recital at the end of the month?" Hudson's laugh was pure venom. "Doesn't she care about those little brats more than anything?" Julian didn't stop him. His silence was sharper than any knife, completely slicing away my very last shred of hope. I didn't push the door open to confront them. I didn't break down and scream. I just quietly tossed the bag of pain patches into the hallway trash can, turned around, and walked down the stairs.**Chloe's POV** When I reached the lobby, my phone buzzed. It was my mom. "Chloe, the Savannah Contemporary Dance Company is still waiting for your RSVP. If you really decide to come here, your dad and I will help you pack tomorrow. But... can you really leave Julian behind?" I wiped the cold tears from the back of my hand. My voice was hoarse but absolute. "Mom, I'm coming. I'll sign the contract tomorrow." Behind that door upstairs lay three years of my life, treated as a cruel joke. But starting today, I wouldn't take a single step backward. I returned to my apartment and immediately pulled out a heavy-duty black trash bag. I had rented this apartment specifically to be close to Julian so I could take care of him. Those blue slippers on the shoe rack that Julian had complained about a thousand times? In the bag. The cheap keychain he threw at me, the costumes I stayed up all night tailoring for him? In the bag. And then, the notebook filled with "Julian's likes and dislikes." I flipped to the very last page. Clamped there was the receipt from our first official dinner date. That day, Julian had looked at me with a patronizing smirk and asked, "Chloe, you've been chasing me for so long. Aren't you tired?" With a blushing face, I had replied, "I don't mind the fatigue as long as it's you." It turned out that day was just number one on his payback list. Expressionlessly, I tore the receipt to shreds and threw it, along with the notebook, into the trash. My phone kept vibrating. Julian sent a text on Snapchat: *Did you leave those pain patches at the door?* *Why aren't you answering?* Then came a barrage of FaceTime calls. I stared at the screen, looking at the name that used to make my heart race, and pressed accept. "Where did you go? Hudson said you were here," Julian's voice carried a hint of his usual arrogant irritation. "I went home," I said, my voice completely flat. "What about your audition?" "I didn't go. I missed it." Julian fell silent for a second, then his tone softened with a patronizing tone. "Hudson was just joking. I didn't know he'd use something like that to lie to you. I'll make him apologize to you later. Stop throwing a tantrum." I almost laughed out loud at his casual dismissal of it as a "joke." I traded my entire career for his leg, and he thought a lazy apology from his friend could just erase my ruined life! "No need," I cut him off coldly. "I hope you guys enjoy your little game." Julian's heart skipped a beat. "Chloe, what do you mean by that?" "I mean, you disgust me. Don't ever contact me again." With that, I hung up and immediately blocked Julian on Snapchat, Ins, and my contact list. The world was finally quiet. I opened my laptop, replied to the Savannah Contemporary Dance Company's email to confirm my employment, and sent my resignation to the owner of my current dance studio, promising to finish the children's recital at the end of the month before leaving. Once everything was done, I looked around the empty apartment and let out a long, heavy breath. For three years, I had filled Julian’s life to the brim, only to corner myself into a dead end. Now, I was going to reclaim my life, inch by inch.**Chloe's POV** The next day, I went to work at the dance studio as usual. During the lunch break, Julian appeared at the classroom door, his face dark, holding a warm caramel macchiato—my old favorite. "You hung up on me last night and ignored me all night. Are you done throwing your tantrum now?" He handed the drink over, his brows furrowed as if he were the one who had suffered a great injustice. I didn't even look up as I continued sorting through the kids' registration forms. "I'm working. Solicitations aren't allowed in the studio. Please leave." Julian’s hand froze mid-air, his expression instantly turning ugly. "Chloe! I came all the way here to find you. What more do you want? Hudson just has a big mouth, and I actually did twist my ankle a little. Do you have to be this petty?" "Don't look at the floor when you're lying, Julian. It makes you look pathetic." I finally looked up, my eyes as cold as ice. Busted, Julian’s eyes flickered with panic. He reached out to grab my arm, but a sweet, high-pitched voice called out from the end of the hallway: "Julian!" Melanie, holding two Broadway tickets, fluttered over like a butterfly. She gasped as if she had just noticed me, covering her mouth in mock surprise. "Oh! Chloe, you're here too? Julian, didn't you promise to go to the theater with me tonight? Why are you still here?" Today was my three-year anniversary with Julian. We had originally agreed to have dinner tonight at the cozy little diner where we had our very first date. But Julian had clearly forgotten. Seeing Julian's face stiffen for a fraction of a second, I couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Melanie, your acting is so bad. How did you even get into the dance academy in the first place?" Melanie’s tears came on cue. She grabbed Julian’s sleeve, looking incredibly hurt. "Chloe, please don't misunderstand. If it bothers you, I'll just rip these tickets up. You guys should go celebrate your anniversary..." I had been disgusted by this manipulative, victim-playing act a thousand times before. But now, I just found it hilarious. "Please, don't rip them. A toxic jerk and a fake snake. Honestly, you two are a match made in heaven. Have a great movie night." With that, I slammed the classroom door right in their faces! I shut out Julian's thunderous face and Melanie's fake sobbing. Getting rid of toxic trash felt absolutely amazing. After class, it was already dark. The moment I stepped out of the dance studio building, Julian blocked my path in the freezing wind. "Chloe, come with me," he commanded. "Get lost," I replied, not even sparing him a glance. Julian finally lost his temper. "Have you had enough?! Melanie cried all afternoon because of your sarcastic remarks! Just how long are you going to keep making a scene over nothing?!" Melanie stepped out from behind Julian at the perfect moment, her eyes red. "Chloe, I know you’ve always felt guilty about taking my solo spot back then, but I forgave you a long time ago. Don't take your anger out on Julian..." *Slap!***Chloe's POV** I slammed my heavy binder right at Melanie's feet, my voice cold and sharp. "Melanie, do you need me to help refresh your memory? Do you want me to pull up the records of how you were publicly replaced by the director because you were late to dress rehearsals and kept messing up the choreography? You have zero talent, so you rely on playing the victim to get sympathy. You've repeated that lie a hundred times, and now you actually believe it yourself, don't you?" Melanie’s face turned paper-white. Shaking with anger, she screamed, "You're lying!" "Enough!" Julian roared. "Chloe, do you have to be so malicious? Apologize to Melanie right now!" There it was again. Whenever Melanie cried, I was automatically the villain. I looked at him coldly, pulled a set of keys out of my bag, and threw them right at Julian's chest. "Those are the keys to your studio. I'm returning them. Julian, we are over. We are breaking up." Julian caught the keys, completely stunned. He thought I was just blowing off steam. He never expected me to actually bring up a breakup. "What do you mean?" A flash of triumph crossed Melanie's eyes, though she kept up her good-girl act. "Chloe, don't be impulsive. Julian really cares about you..." "Shut up, you manipulative snake!" I barked, cutting her off in disgust. I turned back to Julian. "Your 'sixty-six paybacks list' is short by three. Too bad, I'm not playing anymore. Enjoy your little game by yourselves." The mention of the "list" hit Julian like a lightning bolt. He froze in place, utterly paralyzed. Without giving him another second to process, I turned on my heel and walked briskly toward the subway station. Julian instinctively tried to chase after me, but Melanie grabbed his arm tightly. "Julian, Chloe must have misunderstood something. Don't go..." Julian stood frozen in the cold wind. Under the bright neon lights of the subway station, I didn't look back even once. **Julian's POV** For the first time in my life, I felt a terrifying reality sink in: the Chloe who had always stood in the exact same spot waiting for me was completely gone. "A breakup?! How could she possibly bear to break up with you?" In the studio, Hudson listened to me and laughed so hard tears came to his eyes. "Julian, you're just taking her too seriously! She’s playing hard to get! Once she cools down, she'll come crawling back to you like a loyal dog." I sat on the sofa, staring at the keys on the table, my mind in absolute chaos. "The sixty-fourth payback is still on," Hudson suggested carelessly. "Doesn't she have that kids' recital at the end of the month? Let's steal her backup audio files and the lead dancer's costume. Let's see how she handles that disaster. When she has nowhere else to turn, she’ll come crying to you for help!" I snapped my head up, my voice dangerously cold. "I told you, do not touch her recital! And do not touch those kids!" Hudson gasped, startled by my outburst. "Are you crazy? We're only three steps away from finishing the list. Why are you suddenly feeling sorry for her?!" Melanie walked over and pulled at my sleeve, looking incredibly sorrowful. "Julian, are you blaming me for making things difficult? If that's the case, let's just forget about her stealing my spot back then. I don't mind carrying the hurt..." If this had been the past, I would have pulled her into my arms and assured her she didn't have to suffer. But now, looking at Melanie's face, Chloe's words kept ringing in my ears: *late to dress rehearsals, replaced for messing up the choreography.* A wave of disgust washed over me. I felt like I was being used as a weapon. I shoved Melanie's hand off my arm. "Don't touch me. The game is over." Melanie froze, a dark, vicious look flashing deep in her eyes.**Chloe's POV** Today, I was running the final dress rehearsal in the dance studio. The studio owner, Martha, walked over and whispered, "Chloe, someone just called the front desk asking about where we store the recital costumes and audio files. It felt off." I let out a cold laugh. I didn't even need to think to know it was Hudson and his cronies. They wanted to ruin my hard work using their old tricks? In their dreams! I didn't panic. I calmly gave Martha my instructions. "Martha, lock all the original costumes in the office safe right now. Also, I had the supplier rush a batch of identical backup costumes. I need you to quietly lock them in the trunk of your car. Copy the audio files onto three separate flash drives—one for you, one for me, and one for the sound engineer to keep on them at all times." "And slip the head of security a fifty-dollar tip and buy a box of donuts for the team. Tell them that on the day of the show, if anyone from Julian’s studio comes anywhere near backstage, call the cops immediately!" Martha looked at my swift, ruthless arrangements. Shocked but incredibly relieved, she said, "Chloe, you used to trust them way too much." "I was blind back then. I've cured my eyes now." I looked at my fierce, determined reflection in the mirror, a cold smirk playing on my lips. I was no longer the pathetic girl who compromised everything for Julian. For the recital at the end of the month, not only was I going to pull off a flawless show, but I was also going to give Julian and Melanie a gift they would never forget! Julian came to the dance studio just as I was running a rehearsal with the kids. I was wearing a simple leotard, my hair pulled up in a neat bun, correcting a little girl's posture step by step. I looked busy. And completely at peace. Julian stood at the door, realizing his presence didn't distract me at all. In the past, the second he showed up, I would have run out to ask if he had eaten, if he was tired, or if he wanted water. Now, I only spared him a single glance before turning back to the class. After class, Julian blocked me. "Are you breaking your lease?" I nodded. "Yes." "Where are you going?" "Savannah." "Who said you could leave?" The moment the words left his mouth, Julian himself froze. I, however, chuckled. "Do I need your permission to go anywhere, Julian?" Julian's face darkened. "That's not what I meant." "Then what do you mean?" He couldn't answer. He was just too used to me revolving around him, too used to his name always occupying the top spot in my schedule. My sudden departure made him instinctively want to force me back into my place. "The Savannah Company is mediocre," he scrambled for an excuse. "If you stay here, I can help you get another audition with the National Theater." "No, thank you." "Chloe, don't throw away your career over a tantrum." I packed up my teaching materials and looked up at him. "I didn't miss my audition because of a tantrum, Julian." Julian's face went pale. I didn't say another word. Some wounds don't hurt any less when talked about; they only give the abuser another chance to make excuses. I brushed past him and walked out.**Chloe's POV** Julian reached out and grabbed my wrist. "I can make it up to you." I stopped. "Julian, don't talk about making amends like it's charity." I slowly pulled my hand out of his grip. "What you owe me isn't just an audition slot." After that conversation, I officially submitted my lease termination that very day. My landlord asked if I was just fighting with my boyfriend, offering some unsolicited advice. "It's normal for young couples to fight, you know. Breaking a lease and finding a new place is a huge pain." I smiled gently. "We're not fighting. I just won't be living here anymore." I didn't offer any further explanation. This apartment was too close to Julian. It was so close that I used to check his studio windows to see if the lights were on, so close that one call from him could get me running to his side in minutes. I used to think it was convenient. Only now did I realize I had placed myself in a position where he could summon me like a pet. Terminating the lease wasn't just about moving. It was the first time I actively removed myself from his reach. Seeing my resolve, the landlord stopped trying to persuade me and just asked to settle the utilities at the end of the month. I agreed. Walking out of the leasing office, my chest didn't feel empty. Instead, I felt like I could finally take a deep, clean breath. Julian stood in the distance, his face turning pale. In the past, he always complained that I wanted too much. I wanted him to reply to my messages, wanted him to have dinner with me, wanted him to remember those cheap anniversaries. But now that I wanted absolutely nothing from him, he realized how little he actually had to offer. He said he'd help me get another audition. That wasn't making amends. That was him trying to tape up a vase he had shattered, then demanding my gratitude. I didn't look at him again. I returned to the classroom. The kids crowded around me, asking if I was feeling sick. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Julian standing outside the door. I bent down to tie a little girl's ballet shoe. She looked down at me and whispered a sweet "Thank you, Miss Chloe," before standing up and dusting off her knees. Julian still stood there. He didn't leave, and he didn't come in. I didn't spare him a second look. He used to enjoy this kind of care from me. I used to bring him water, pack him meals, organize his scattered papers, and heat up a mug of milk when he rehearsed late into the night. Back then, he never said thank you. He never thought he needed to. He just took it all for granted, like a permanent fixture in his life. Now, he was seeing that I could bend down and smile for someone else. Only, he was no longer the one receiving my care. The sixty-sixth payback came anyway. It wasn't Julian's doing. Hudson and a few of his friends snuck into the studio's storage room during the lunch break. They stole the lead dancer's recital costume and stuffed an old, ill-fitting outfit in its place. They wanted to watch me ruin the show, completely unaware that I had a backup. When Martha pulled up the security footage, Hudson was still smirking. "It was just a prank, okay? It's not like we actually ruined the show." Standing to the side, hearing those words, I found it incredibly pathetic. For the past three years, every single injury they inflicted on me was swept under the rug as a "joke." Me waiting for him until midnight was a joke; me missing my audition deadline was a joke; me being humiliated in public was also a joke. The moment I got upset, I was labeled as "someone who can't take a joke." But this time, I wasn't going to take it lying down.