CHAPTER EIGHT: SHATTERED ILLUSION, BROKEN FRIENDSHIP.

CHAPTER THREE: SHATTERED ILLUSIONS

As time went on, Faith's birthday approached—before mine. She was restless, confused, and desperate to find money. I could see the frustration in her eyes, the silent panic in her voice. She didn't know how she would afford the celebration she had envisioned.

Then, an opportunity presented itself. A guy—a friend of mine—invited her over, promising to give her $50. She told me about it, unsure whether to go. I looked at her and simply said, "If it pleases you, go ahead."

And so, she went.

But fate was cruel to her that night.

The guy had no money to give. He had lured her in with promises, taken what he wanted, and left her with nothing. She returned to me in pain, frustration, and deep regret.

"The guy had no money… he said he doesn't have it for now," she confessed, her voice laced with disbelief.

Hearing this, I was furious. "You should report him," I said.

But Faith shook her head. "No… I'll give him time to gather it."

And just like that, she let it go.

Life moved on. She found other ways to gather money, buying clothes and shoes for her upcoming photoshoot.

Four days before Faith's birthday, she begged me to escort her to the studio for a photoshoot. I agreed, and Theresa joined us.

Her outfit was stunning—radiant, elegant, everything she had dreamed of. It was a long, exhausting day, but in the end, we were happy for her.

Four days later, it was faith's birthday. She sent me her beautiful pictures, and I celebrated her with all my heart. I posted them everywhere, telling the world how much of a real friend she was to me. I loved and trusted her deeply, and for that moment, everything felt perfect.

Gifts poured in from friends and well-wishers. She was happy. The day ended, and we all moved on.

But happiness is fragile.

Before long, Theresa and I had issues again. She always carried herself like the smartest person in the room. She bragged about how she fought, how she shouted, how she never let anyone win against her.

But all I saw was a child—not a fighter, just a loud child craving dominance.

The lack of respect was unbearable. The "see-finish" was too much to endure. Finally, I made up my mind.

I cut her off.

Without a word, without a quarrel, I walked away. And I left her with Beauty, because they were birds of the same feather.

From that moment on, my world narrowed down to Faith and me.

I held onto her tightly, trusting her more than ever. My birthday was fast approaching, and I focused on myself.

Faith, however, still moved freely between Theresa and Beauty. She was still close to them, constantly visiting their room to gossip. I knew they were all the same, but I refused to let it bother me.

Then, one day, I said to her, "Please, you, Theresa, and Beauty should never gossip about me—anytime, any day."

Faith's face changed. "Meaning?" she asked, shocked.

I didn't reply. But I knew what she was doing behind my back. I knew they had been gossiping about me, speaking ill of my name.

She got angry. But I wasn't bothered.

Life went on.

Finally, my birthday arrived. Faith repaid the kindness I had shown her during hers—she escorted me to my photoshoot.

But mine was different. The distance made it exhausting, stressful. Yet, she sacrificed her time for me.

We returned home drained, barely able to keep our eyes open.

And then, just like that, she ran off to Theresa and Beauty's room.

I was beginning to worry about her character—about how much she was changing—but it wasn't my concern.

A few days later, Faith came to me with excitement.

"Theresa got me a rich and cute boyfriend," she said, smiling. "We're dating now."

I was happy for her. But at the same time, a small part of me felt sad.

I was too pretty to be single.

Still, I shook the thought away. It didn't bother me much.

The next day, her new boyfriend came to visit. Faith was beside herself with excitement. She couldn't hide her joy—her movements were rushed, her energy frantic.

She hurriedly arranged her room—something she never did. Faith was naturally untidy, but today? Today was different. A man was coming.

And then he arrived.

A tall, handsome guy. Tattoos decorated his chest, trailing down his arms. His lips were pink and soft, his presence intoxicating.

I took one look at him and left the room.

Hours later, I returned to Faith's room—only to find it empty. She and her lover had gone upstairs to Theresa and Beauty's room.

Her door was wide open.

Curious, I stepped inside. My eyes scanned the room, and then I saw it.

A condom.

Lying there on the bed. Plain as day.

I whispered to myself, "First time meeting him, and she's already had sex with him? And she calls herself a Gen Z baddie? Where's the wisdom in that?"

But I pretended not to know anything. I walked out as if I had seen nothing.

Later that day, Faith returned to me, her face twisted with worry.

"What happened?" I asked.

She sighed. "While we were together, another guy called me. Now, he's suspecting me of cheating."

I smiled knowingly. It was only a matter of time.

The guy had already started suspecting her—he could sense that she wasn't loyal.

The next day, it all fell apart.

She and her boyfriend had a fight.

And then, the worst happened—he broke up with her.

"I'm not interested in you anymore," he told her coldly. Then he insulted her, cutting deep into her pride.

Faith crumbled. She cried. She begged him to stay.

Not because she loved him.

But because she was after his money.

And now? Now she had lost both.

Through her tears, she confessed everything to me. I sighed and shook my head.

"Forget about him and move on," I said. "More will come."

But she refused.