She's such a whore for stealing someone else's boyfriend!

Wow, that looked scary. And here I thought they were friends.

Was she bullied or the other way around? Can't stop replaying the video.

People can be scary...

She's a bitch.

Isabela is too sweet. She should sue her for that!

"Tyler? Are you all right? Please open the door." Brandon knocked on the door once more, and I covered my ears, trying to block it all away.

Slut.

"Did you fell asleep or something? It's been thirty minutes already," he spoke, concern clear in his voice. I looked down at my hands and the phone, both wet from my tears. The screen glared at me with the haunting words, and I pitied myself once again for being so helpless.

Why is she even at the competition? She should kill herself.

My hand paused, trembling at the comment staring back at me. Two hundred likes.

I agree. The world will be a better place without her. My eyes traveled around the bathroom, noticing things for the first time through the blur of my tears. Would this be a better place without me?

"I am calling Bea if you are not coming out!" he shouted, and I stood up, startled. A few tears splattered on my phone at the sudden movement, and I immediately wiped them away.

"Huh?" I croaked out, confused at the furious banging on the door. After a few seconds it stopped, and I walked closer to the door, watching the silhouette of someone standing at the other side of the door.

"Your wish," he shouted, and the words finally settled in. Brandon, it's Brandon. What do I do? I clenched my hand into a fist, trying to stop the uncontrollable shaking.

"Give me a minute," I stammered, and I heard a huge sigh of relief from him. My mind went blank for a second, and then I realized I would have to go outside. I couldn't hole myself up in the bathroom any longer. But what will I say to him? Does he know? He can't. Not yet. But what if...?

Why do I doubt him? I chastised myself. But he has never seen me like this, my mind at once answered. I looked at the shadow of Brandon leaning against the thick glass door. He waited patiently, and a weird sense of calmness settled into me as I appraised his form. Thinking back on all my experiences, I knew that he won't be one of them. I could trust him.

What was the point in keeping myself locked in here, when the real perpetrator was them, not me? Why was I punishing myself when they are the ones at fault? Was I this weak to succumb to the lies of others and not do anything?

A determination built up in me and I went to the basin to wash my face. The reflection which stared back at me wore such a familiar and haunting expression, something I hadn't seen in a while.

Their words can't hurt me, I reminded myself, watching the tear trails that marked my cheeks. I splashed the cool water on my face, hoping to wash out the emotional scars as easily as I got rid of the external ones. Let's do this.

I held the door knob for a minute, gathering my will power and taking a deep breath to clear my mind. Should I smile? No, it would be too forced.

The phone in my hand felt heavy, its contents a haunting memory. Clearing the image out of my hand, I turned the key. The lock clicked open, and Brandon didn't give me a chance to act, swinging the door open himself. The barrier between us removed, I casted my eyes downward, unable to look up at him for the fear of what I might see.

"Tyler?" he spoke my full name, the syllables rolling out of his tongue softly. A part of me that had been a little scared that he would have something very different, relaxed. I peeked up hesitantly and found a smiling Brandon staring at me. Though when my eyes met his, it told me what he hadn't spoken. They were the eyes of a worried, shook up, and most of all a scared person.

He assessed my face, his expression a cross between relief and worry. I tried to look from his eyes, his point of view. Heat crept up my face, and I felt hot, my eyes burning, and the welled up tears blurring my vision. He just stared at me. My throat constricted, a painful lump taking a place there, making it harder to breathe. I squeezed my phone and looked away.

Powerful arms wrapped around me as a sob broke out. "Whoa!" I gasped and sobbed, shocked from the intensity with which he hugged me. My nose was smashed against his chest, and tears streamed down my face in fat drops. Brandon noticed it, and rocked my body in his cocooned arms to calm me down.

"Shh, Ty." He patted my head, smoothing my unruly hair with his hand, only making me feel pitiful. I swallowed, wiping my face and walking out of the bathroom.

"Tell me what happened," Brandon spoke from behind, stopping me mid-way. He bent down to my eye level, and patted my head to calm my blabbering and sobbing mess.

"You d-don't know?" I hiccupped.

"No? Did I do something?" he asked, and I furiously shook my head.

"Bella, s-she uploaded--" I hiccupped again, "Y-YouTube."

"You're not making any sense." He held me away from him, making me look into his eyes. I avoided his prying gaze, but he pulled my chin up and held my face there.

"What happened? Please explain." The raw emotion in his eyes unnerved me. "You're killing me," he whispered, and I nodded, taking a deep breath and burying the remaining sobs.

"Sit here," I said, pointing to the bed. There was no point in keeping it with me. Sooner or later Brandon would get the messages too. I unlocked the phone and placed it on the table. "Watch the video."

"What video?" He took my phone and clicked the play button. His eyes focused on the blurry content in my phone. "Isn't that all of us? And that white dress...you wore it to the fair, right?"

"Yes. Do you notice someone else in the video?"

"Yeah... Bella, she's in here too and the French stick." He looked up, confused. "Is this CCTV footage? Who put that on YouTube?"

I didn't reply, and he didn't ask more. He stayed silent for a while, watching the video. I waited for the moment to come, and as expected his eyes widened and he shut the video, looking up at me. "What the fuck is this?! Bullshit."

"That's not it," I replied, tight lipped. "Give me the phone."

I played the video again, my eyes following each and every move. It was almost like transporting back into the time, the video bringing vivid memories back to life.

"Now this got so much more interesting. Didn't it, Tyler?" She leered, stopping a foot away from me.

"When I found out that my Francis was being manipulated by you. I only thought it would be best to return the favor. Don't you think?"

"What the fuck do you mean?" I said, confused and irritated.

"Your mother just received a huge order for her bakery," she stalled, walking closer to Brandon who looked straight ahead and then turned towards me. I remembered my mother asking me for more ingredients this morning, talking excitedly about the new order.

"But it will break her poor heart," she continued, "When it will be canceled and the word of mouth put in the market to boycott your bakery."

The undercurrent of rage passing through my body was so intense that I feared I would break my teeth with the force I grounded them.

"Why would anyone believe you?" Brandon spat out and Bella smiled again.

"Well they would, since we were the ones to put the fake order. And don't you know? My father owns the multinational food company. Ruining you would be," she clicked her fingers together, its sound echoing, "this easy."

Brandon didn't stop me this time, and my hand flew out of my own accord, connecting with her cheek with a satisfying sound.

"You bitch!" She spat out, her hand covering her face, glaring at me full force.

I clicked the pause button, reliving the rage with each passing second. There wasn't any audio recording, of course, but I remembered every word as if it had been spoken yesterday. "Do you see these subtitles? Whoever wrote this sure had imagination."

Brandon got up, watching it from above my shoulder. I read it aloud, "Isabela suffering from excessive bullying after Tyler Anderson steals her boyfriend."

"And read this," I continued, "Tyler forced Isabela to quit the show. Seriously, the comments are ridiculous! Why would I steal Francis and isn't the bullying part other way around?"

"Can't we report this?"

"Brandon, I am the one slapping her across the face. Who would believe me? She's a celebrity and a millionaire!"

"Fuck. They really went far this time. Are you all right? I mean okay with this? We both know what happened that day!" Brandon insisted, livid. "Tyler, look at me."

I turned to him. "You are right, I am not all right."

"Oh." He looked taken aback at my answer, expecting more persuasion from his side. "I am so sorry, Tyler."

He stepped closer to hug me, but I stepped back. "No. I am done crying, Brandon. She did this because we sent her in the elimination round, I know it.

"Those comments- if you read them, you'll know the hate I am receiving. Everyone believes her. The whole school has seen it, you know? She has turned me from the victim to the offender in one night! I don't deserve it." Brandon held my hand, and I squeezed it back.

"Hey..." Brandon whispered, catching a small tear dropping from my eyes. I put his hand away, not wanting to be weak anymore.

"I don't deserve it. Not after all those years of bullying. I want to show them that we were not wrong."

"But how?" he asked, concerned by the way I was speaking.

"It's simple, isn't it? By revealing the truth."

***

"Do you remember those papers when Bella blackmailed me?" I asked Francis, "If I am correct, she would have definitely brought it with her to Singapore."

"The marriage contract she kept forcing me to sign? And your bakery papers, I suppose?"

"Yes. Those are some hard proofs, if we just get a way to access them..."

"So you say we steal those papers?" Brandon asked, sitting around the table with Francis and Sarah.

"We have to! There is no sound in the video, and we need proof to show that she was blackmailing us. And hence that slap was justified." I insisted to the three of them and Brandon sighed.

"What will you do after stealing them? Parade around, showing it to everybody?"

"We'll put it online, duh!" I said.

"And you think it'll work? For all they know, you forged the papers to prove your innocence," Sarah said, shrugging her shoulders. "Plus, how are you going to make it go viral?"

"Don't worry, I can make it viral," Francis snapped his fingers together.

"See!" I jumped, excited to get started.

"You are not getting this, Ty. Sarah is right, they won't help you prove your innocence," Brandon said, and I wanted to throw the furniture out the window in frustration. "We need better proof than that."

"What more proof? It's not like we can have her say it herself. Yes, I blackmailed Tyler and blah blah blah." I imitated her French accent and everyone stared at me. "What?"

"We can do that, can't we?" Francis said, looking at everyone.

"Have Bella say it all herself?" Sarah nodded. "No one can question it then."

"Are you guys mad?" I stared at them, dumbfounded at their dumbness. They sported similar expressions for me and I had to swallow down the obviousness and ask the next question. "And why would our dear Isabela suddenly confess? She wasn't willing last I met her."

"Ty, who said we'll ask her directly," Brandon said, patting my knee, "We must come up with a plan and have her confess unintentionally. We'll record it and put it on YouTube. Now that would be a hard proof."

"And that way no can counter it." Sarah agreed.

"Oh." I nodded, able to see the plan working out in my head. "A plan it is. Then why don't we do it today?"

"Not yet. First, we need some gadgets." Francis grinned.

"Huh?"

***

"Are you sure I should go with you...?" Brandon trailed off, noticing my seething gaze. "Fine, I am coming."

"Francis, are you getting the footage?" I asked, adjusting Brandon's sunglasses, and waving in front of it. A small red light blinked in the corner, recording the footage.

"Oui, can clearly see you. All set," Francis replied, giving thumbs up from behind the laptop. I looped my arm with Brandon's and we went over to Sarah, who stood there, keeping the door open for us.

"Best of luck." She grinned, slapping my back in excitement. "You call me and I'll come, okay?"

"Okay. But I think we'll handle it," I replied, looking at Brandon for confirmation. He gave me a small smile, and I felt reassured. "Let's go."

We took the elevator up to the penthouse where our dear VIP guest Bella was staying. The door opened, and I expected security guards to bombard us, but the hallway was empty. Brandon and I gave each other a look (where I only stared at myself in the reflection) before moving on to the only closed door in the empty hall.

"There's the bell," Brandon whispered, and I took a deep breath before pressing it.

"Do my eyes look red?" I asked, blinking them hard to get a few tears out. The bell echoed through the walls, and I kept my head down, unless Bella opened the door.

"Not sure. Everything looks kind of brown in this," he whispered, setting his sunglasses.

I rolled my eyes. "Never mind. I think the glycerin works, my eyes keep burning."

A beep sounded, and I thought the door was opening, but it was only the speaker turning on.

"Who is it? I didn't call for room service." The unmistakable voice of Bella came through it.

I cleared my throat and said, "It's not room service. It's me, Tyler."

"Who?"

"Tyler Anderson, can I talk--" The line cut off from the other side and once again silence consumed us. I huffed, unbelieving that Bella had just cut me off. Well, this had been the only drawback in our plan. Failing to meet Bella and we had accomplished it.

"What do you think? Is she going to open the door?" Brandon asked.

"I don't think so. Let's go back," I said, dejected but determined to take the revenge, if not today, then tomorrow.

"Okay." Brandon sighed, pulling his sunglasses out and folding them in his pocket. What was the use of Francis arranging us such a cool gadget when we couldn't even use it properly. We dragged our feet back to the elevator shaft, and I pulled out my phone to call Sarah and inform her.

"Hey! Wait up." A sharp voice called from behind us and we turned to see Bella peeking out from the door. Loose waves of hair fell below her waist, and something felt different about her aura today. "You came here?"

"Oh, yes!" I said a little too loudly, and then cleared my throat, regaining my normal pitch. My elbow connected with Brandon's ribs, and he hastily took his sunglasses out and wore them. A short nod from him confirmed me that the camera was recording.

"Isabela... I wanted to talk to you. If that is all right with you?" She looked suspicious for a second, and then I noticed that she was bare faced, not wearing any make-up. Probably the reason she looked so different.

"You want to talk to me?" She raised her eyebrows, her usual 'I am better than you' face returning, which made me sigh in relief. I didn't knew what I would have done if she had had a personality makeover overnight.

"Yes. You uploaded the video, didn't you?" I smiled, which was meant to be more scary than friendly. Her eyebrows furrowed at this but she didn't comment. She looked up to the ceiling, and I followed her gaze to see the cameras installed around the room.

"Come inside." Were her crisp words as she opened the door wider and went inside. I did a small victory dance inside my head before maintaining my game face back.

Brandon and I followed her inside as she led us toward the spacious drawing room. Bella only wore a pure white bathrobe and I couldn't help but notice her curvy body in the well fitted towel. If I knew her, then she probably had this tailor-made too.

"Sit," she spoke, and we took the seats opposite her. The room decorated with ivory and cream interiors fit Bella so much that she blended into the luxury perfectly. "What were you saying about the video?"

"Why did you do it? We had an agreement. Remove it." I stated, but by the lost look on Bella's face, I didn't think she was following.

"I don't understand. If you are here to waste time-"

"It wasn't you? Giulia again, then?" I said angrily.

"What about Giulia?!" she snapped, startling Brandon and I.

"Watch the video." I slid my phone to her, and she picked it up, watching everything silently.

Her eyes widened as she read through everything and watched the video. And she looked back at me, having the decency to look flabbergasted.

"I-I-"

"You remember what happened that day?" I asked.

"I do," she said, keeping the phone back down.

"Why did you put this up?"

"I didn't. But how does it matter?" She crossed her arms and leaned back, relaxed now that she knew the video was of no harm to her.

"We agreed on it, Bella. After you blackmailed us, didn't you say you'll not ruin my mother's bakery if I join the competition?"

"So what if I blackmailed you?" She huffed, checking her fingernails. "Your bakery is just fine."

"Then what is this bullshit? Did I bully you?" I leaned forward, asking her in earnest.

"Pfft. As if you could. I only let you slap me because I knew I could use it against you later on. This is good though." She grinned, and my mind swam with how mean a person could be.

"But it's not true!" I shouted.

"So? Honestly, I don't even care about Francis. Why would I care if you steal him or not? If Giulia did this, talk to her. I am not interested." She stood up, but I held my place.

"But isn't this your responsibility? They are all supporting you, thinking you were bullied!" I shouted, and Brandon grabbed my arm, keeping me down.

"It only helps my public image-" Bella went out of the room to the back room, which I guessed was her bedroom and her voice faded away.

"We got everything. You can stop now," Brandon quickly whispered in my ear, patting my back and standing up.

"What about the papers?" I whispered back, "I'll distract her. You search for it?"

"Should we?"

"Yes! She's back." We both resumed our silence, and I sent lethal glares at Bella.

"Can I use the bathroom?" Brandon asked, getting up. Bella nodded, pointing towards the other door. I bit my lip, noticing that the main bedroom was on my right corner but she had directed him towards left, where the outdoor pool and the adjoining bathrooms were.

"Aren't we done here?" she asked, not looking up from her phone.