with pride.
“Everyone, I’d like to formally introduce you to my little sister, Nina Chang. She’s also the one person I want- ed to see here most tonight.”
Then, Asher gently took the ticket from Kiki’s trembling, white–knuckled grasp. The camera zoomed in for an extreme close–up. There, in the bottom right corner, was a beautifully stylized “Nina,” foil–stamped onto the
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Chupter 2
ticket stock.
The proof was undeniable.
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Asher held up the ticket, his voice turning cold. “This was supposed to be my Mid–Autumn gift to my sister. But it seems some irrelevant people got their hands on it through less–than–honorable means.”
Under the scrutiny of millions, Kiki finally broke. All pretense of composure gone, she began to babble, trying desperately to save herself. “It wasn’t me! I didn’t steal it! It was Leo! He gave it to me!”
“Leo stole Nina’s ticket for me! I swear, I didn’t know anything about it!”
Faced with total public humiliation, she didn’t hesitate to throw the boy who had just been her biggest cheer-
leader under the bus.
With her finger pointed at him, Leo instantly became the villain of the story. Every camera, every eye in the house swung to him.
He stood there, mouth agape, his face ashen. He couldn’t say a word. What could he say? That he had proud- ly stolen his own girlfriend’s ticket to impress another girl?
Asher’s gaze was like a knife, pinning the pathetic figure in the stands. “Oh? Leo Shen?”
He turned to me, as if clarifying a minor detail, and asked deliberately, in front of everyone, “Nina, is this the boyfriend you told me about?”
I took the second microphone from the host. I looked down at the man in the rafters, the man I had once truly loved, the man who now looked small and utterly humiliated.
And I announced to the world, my voice clear and calm, “As of right now, he’s not.”
Instantly, hashtags like #AsherChangSister, #TicketThiefLeo, and #KikiLinExposed didn’t just trend, they detonated across every social media platform. The clip of Kiki’s on–stage implosion and memes of Leo’s dumbstruck face went globally viral, becoming the biggest joke of the year.
Asher’s fans, especially those who had been duped into attacking me, were now incandescent with rage. Kiki’s friend, the fan club admin who had started the rumors, was doxxed within minutes. Boycotts were organized, and every misdeed the pair had ever posted online was dug up and put on display.
Kiki was escorted off the stage by security. I heard she collapsed backstage, crying hysterically, her makeup a ruined mess, screaming that Leo had destroyed her life.
And Leo, under a hail of boos and laughter, covered his face and fled the stadium like a beaten dog. His phone was blowing up with furious messages from classmates and friends.
On stage, to soothe the crowd and make up for my ruined surprise, Asher announced he was adding a spec- ial song to the setlist–my favorite from when we were kids. He said it was a belated gift for me. The entire stadium lit up with phone flashlights, a galaxy of stars, as they sang along with him. It was beautiful.
After the show, my parents called. They had seen the whole thing on the livestream. They fussed over me,
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Chapter 2
then gave their full support for my decision to “take out the trash.”
