She Ruined My Blind Dates to Steal the Men

After seven blind dates, all seven men ran away.

They all ran off to chase my cousin, Vivian.

My eighth blind date sent me a message at midnight: Does Vivian have contact info for all your blind dates? She added me first.

A screenshot followed.

In the screenshot, Vivian's message to him read: Just so you know, Peyton has a history of mental illness. Her family's keeping it under wraps. Be careful.

I asked the previous seven men that same night. Vivian had told them all the same thing.

I saved the screenshots and kept quiet.

When the monthly family gathering came around, she walked in arm-in-arm with my sixth blind date. The entire table of relatives stood and applauded.

Linda, my aunt, patted my hand with a sigh. "Peyton, you should learn from Vivian. Look how good she is at picking men."

I smiled and nodded. "You're right. I should learn from her."

Then I picked up my wine glass and stood. "Vivian, in front of the whole family today, there's something I'd like to ask you."

"You sent messages to all eight men. How come only one of them wanted you?"

"Peyton, what are you trying to say?"

Vivian laughed first. A light laugh.

She released Ethan's arm, her fingertip pressed against the rim of her glass, her voice soft.

"Today's a family dinner. Don't lose control of your emotions again."

Linda immediately chimed in. "That's right, Peyton. Vivian just brought her boyfriend home. What are you freaking out about?"

My dad, Harold, put down his fork. "Peyton, sit down."

I didn't sit.

I placed my phone on the turntable, screen lit, stopped on a screenshot.

"I'm not freaking out. I'm asking a question."

Ethan's expression changed.

He was my sixth blind date. Three months ago he'd been asking if I wanted to catch a movie that weekend. The next day he said we weren't compatible.

Now he stood among my relatives wearing a light gray shirt Vivian had picked out for him.

Vivian glanced at the phone but didn't touch it.

"Peyton, did someone turn you against me again?"

"Are the screenshots fake?"

"These days they can deepfake videos. What's a chat screenshot?"

"What about seven of them?"

I opened my photo album and pulled up each of the seven screenshots one by one.

"Seven people. Seven accounts. Seven times the exact same sentence. Even the punctuation's identical."

My aunt, Catherine, muttered quietly, "Kids these days really know how to stir up drama."

Linda glared at me. "Even if Vivian said those things, she was just worried about them. That time you were hospitalizedwho in this family doesn't know about it?"

My fingers froze.

Around the table, some people looked down into their soup, some picked at their food, some pretended not to hear.

My mom, Sandra, went pale. She reached for me. "Peyton, stop talking."

Vivian's eyes welled up instantly.

"Peyton, I really didn't mean any harm."

After she spoke, tears fell.

"I was just afraid they'd blame you later if they found out, and afraid you'd get hurt. Every time you came back from a date you said the guy was nice, but are you really suitable for marriage?"

Ethan immediately supported her. "Vivian, don't cry."

I looked at him.

I remembered on our first date, he'd complimented my sincerity.

Now he was frowning at me.

"Peyton, Vivian's just looking out for you."

"Looking out for me?"

I smiled slightly.

"She added you on Snapchat, told you I have a history of mental illness, then chatted with you until three in the morningthat was looking out for me too?"

His face stiffened. "Don't make things up."

Vivian wiped her tears. "Ethan was just asking about your situation. I told him the truth."

"And you just happened to turn him into your boyfriend while you were at it?"

Linda slammed the table. "Peyton, how can you be so vicious? Your cousin has always given in to you, and you still try to steal her spotlight?"

Harold's face darkened. "Apologize."

I looked at him. "Dad, didn't you see her telling people I'm mentally ill?"

"You did go to the hospital when you were little."

"That was because I had insomnia after being bullied by classmates. The doctor prescribed two weeks of sleep medication."

"To outsiders it all looks the same."

I stood frozen in place.

Vivian said through her sobs, "Harold, don't blame Peyton. She probably just can't accept that Ethan and I are together."

Ethan squeezed her hand.

"Peyton, feelings aren't first-come-first-served. Just because things didn't work out between us doesn't mean I can't like Vivian."

I said, "Of course you can."

The table collectively exhaled.

I continued. "But before you two date, let's settle the accounts for her slandering me."

Vivian suddenly looked up.

In those eyes there was no trace of tearful softness, only a flash of coldness.

Quickly, she lowered her gaze again.

"Peyton, if you insist on forcing me, then I can only tell the truth."

Sandra panicked. "Vivian!"

Linda immediately pressed. "What truth?"

Vivian bit her lip.

"She cut her wrists in college."

The sound of a fork hitting the floor rang out loudly.

I heard myself say, "I didn't."

Vivian shook her head, crying. "Stop denying it. That year I came to see you at your dorm, I saw the gauze wrapped around your wrist with my own eyes."

I pulled up my sleeve.

The very faint scar on my wrist was exposed.

Linda gasped. "Oh my, it's real."

Sandra's eyes reddened. "That was from a fruit knife."

"A fruit knife could do that?"

Vivian's voice grew softer.

"Peyton, I've been covering for you this whole time, but since you insisted on making a scene today, I have no choice."

Ethan's eyes as he looked at me completely changed.

"Peyton, what you need isn't blind dates. It's treatment."

In that moment, all the screenshots lost their weight.

They couldn't see the evidence. They only saw the scar on my wrist.

Harold stood up, his voice very low. "Apologize to your cousin, then go to your room."

I asked, "What if I don't?"

He looked at me, saying something this serious in front of relatives for the first time.

"Then from now on, you don't need to come to the family table anymore."

Vivian called out softly, "Harold, don't do this. Peyton didn't mean it."

Harold didn't look at her, only at me.

"Apologize."

I picked up my phone. When I pressed the screen dark, it reflected my face.

Turns out when someone's trampled all the way down, they don't immediately break down. They just suddenly become very clearheaded.

I put my wine glass back on the table.

"Vivian, I'm sorry."

Tears still hung at the corners of Vivian's eyes, but her lips curved up slightly.

I stared at her, my voice not loud.

"I'm sorry. I underestimated you."

Her expression paused.

Harold shouted angrily, "Peyton!"

I turned and walked out. Behind me came Linda's voice.

"This child is truly beyond saving."

At the door, Ethan came after me.

"Peyton, Vivian asked me to see you out."

I stopped.

He frowned. "Stop targeting her. She's kinder than you, and more normal than you."

I looked at him.

"Ethan, do you feel especially righteous right now?"

He said, "At least I won't hurt someone who genuinely cares about you."

I nodded.

"Fine. Then pass along a message for me."

"What message?"

I tucked my phone back in my bag and pushed open the door.

"Tell her she'd better not lose the eighth one too."

"Peyton, Vivian added me again."

The next morning, my eighth blind date, Marcus, sent me a voice message.

His tone was flat, no surprise in it.

"This time she didn't say you're mentally ill. She said you have violent tendencies."

I stared at that voice message and didn't reply.

He sent another screenshot.

Vivian: "She had an episode at the family dinner yesterday and almost smashed someone with a wine bottle. She's done this before. Everyone in the family is afraid of her."

Marcus: "How do you have my contact info?"

Vivian: "I'm her cousin. I can't just watch you get deceived."

Marcus: "Are you close with her?"

Vivian: "Of course. I care about her the most."

I turned my phone face-down on the table.

Sandra came out of the kitchen and placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of me.

"Peyton, Harold was harsh last night. Don't take it to heart."

I asked, "Mom, do you believe her?"

She paused.

"Of course I believe you."

"Then why didn't you say anything last night?"

"There were so many people there, and Vivian was crying like that. You insisted on making it a big dealwhat good would that do you?"

I looked at that bowl of oatmeal.

"She said I cut my wrists."

"But you do have a scar on your hand."

"That year I was cutting a mango and the knife slipped."

"I know."

"Then why didn't you say so?"

Sandra sat down, her eyes avoiding mine.

"Vivian lost her father when she was little. Linda raised her aloneit wasn't easy. She's been competitive since childhood. She hates losing face most of all."

I laughed. "So it doesn't matter if I lose face?"

"Peyton, don't fixate on this."

The doorbell rang.

Linda came in with Vivian, carrying a bag of fruit.

Vivian's eyes were red and swollen. She'd obviously cried all night.

Linda said as soon as she entered, "Peyton, your cousin insisted on coming first thing to apologize to you. Look how thoughtful she is."

Sandra quickly stood. "Vivian, sit down."

Vivian stood at the door, refusing to come in.

"Peyton, I said some harsh things yesterday."

I didn't move. "Which part?"

She bit her lip. "The... the thing about your wrist."

"When you said I cut my wristswas that being harsh, or was it slander?"

Linda's face darkened. "How can you talk like that? Your cousin already humbled herself."

Tears were about to fall from Vivian's eyes again.

"Peyton, if you really hate me, I can break up with Ethan."

Linda immediately exploded. "Break up for what? Ethan's got such good prospectswhy should she break up because of you?"

Sandra panicked too. "Peyton, say something."

I asked Vivian, "Can you bear to?"

She looked up at me, tears hanging there, but she herself was perfectly steady.

"As long as you're happy, I can bear anything."

After that line, Sandra couldn't take it anymore.

"Peyton, your cousin's already doing thiswhat more do you want?"

I said, "I want her to tell everyone who was at last night's dinner the truth about those messages she sent, and the truth about how I got this scar."

The room went quiet for two seconds.

Linda sneered. "You're trying to destroy your cousin?"

"Clarifying facts is destroying her?"

"A girl's reputation is so important. She still has to get married."

I looked up. "My reputation isn't important?"

Linda rolled her eyes. "You don't even have a boyfriend."

The words came out so smoothly that even Sandra couldn't follow up.

Vivian said softly, "Peyton, if you really insist on this, I won't stop you. But Ethan's mother already heard about you last night. She added Linda and asked if you hurt people."

I picked up my phone.

Sure enough, the family group chat had several new messages.

Linda had posted a photo of my wrist.

The angle was very closemust have been secretly taken at last night's dinner table.

The caption read: "It's not that our Vivian talks nonsense. Peyton really does need the family to look after her more."

The relatives below all agreed.

"No wonder seven blind dates didn't work out."

"This kind of thing can't be hidden from the man's side."

"Vivian was just being kind."

My fingertips went stiff.

Sandra said quietly, "Linda, how could you post that photo in the group?"

Linda was unconcerned. "I was just reminding the family so nothing happens later."

I looked at Vivian.

She kept her eyes down, her voice as light as a sigh.

"I didn't know my mom posted the photo."

I said, "You didn't know?"

Linda immediately defended her. "It has nothing to do with Vivian. I posted it."

Vivian looked up, a flash of triumph in her eyes.

Her tactics had always been distinctive.

When other people play the victim, they lower themselves.

When she plays the victim, she elevates everyone else into her weapons.

I opened the group chat, about to post the screenshots.

Harold called.

"Peyton, don't make a scene in the group."

"Dad, did you see the photo?"

"I saw it."

"Don't you think it's excessive?"

"Linda was just anxious."

"Anxious to destroy me?"

"Delete whatever you're about to post in the group right now. My colleagues are in that group too. Don't make me lose face with you."

I closed my eyes.

"Dad, I'm already losing face."

He said, "You're a girl. If your reputation gets damaged, it can slowly be repaired. If you ruin your cousin's marriage prospects, Linda will hate you for life."

I asked, "What about you?"

Silence on the other end.

I finished for him. "You will too."

I hung up.

Vivian looked at me and spoke gently. "Peyton, Harold's just afraid you'll be impulsive."

I put down my phone.

"You're not here to apologize. You're here to confirm whether I'll fight back."

She finally stopped crying.

"Peyton, you always think the worst of everyone. No wonder no one dares get close to you."

Linda picked up the bag of fruit and set it heavily on the table.

"We're leaving this here. If you have any conscience left, stop making things hard for Vivian."

Before the door closed, Vivian looked back at me.

Her voice was very soft, but just loud enough for me to hear.

"The eighth one seems pretty nice too. If you really can hold onto him, don't give me a chance to get to know him."

"Peyton, come to the community clinic this afternoon."

Harold's call came while I was meeting with Marcus.

He sat across from me, phone screen facing up, showing Vivian's fifth message.

"She's asking me if you brought any sharp objects to our meeting."

Marcus said this without smiling.

I replied, "Are you scared?"

"I'm just curious why she's in such a hurry."

Before I could answer, Harold called again.

"Did you hear me? Three o'clock this afternoon. Your mom will go with you."

"Go for what?"

"A psychological evaluation."

My grip on my cup tightened.

"Whose idea?"

Linda's voice came through the phone.

"My ideawhat's wrong with that? You scared Vivian like that. Don't you need an evaluation?"

Harold lowered his voice. "Peyton, cooperate. Get a certificate proving you're fine, and this whole thing will blow over."

I said, "The person who started the slander should apologize. That would make it blow over too."

"You're still being stubborn?"

I said nothing.

Marcus looked up at me. "Need help?"

I shook my head.

Harold's voice became very weary.

"Peyton, don't make this hard on your mom."

That sentence worked better than any command.

I went that afternoon.

The community center wasn't large. Several elderly people sat in the hallway. Linda and Vivian were there too.

Vivian wore a face mask, only her red eyes showing.

Linda saw me and said, "Don't glare at your cousin. She had nightmares last night and didn't sleep all night."

Sandra pulled me aside. "Peyton, just answer a few questions and it'll be over."

I asked, "Why are they here?"

Linda said, "Family members have the right to provide information."

I said, "Since when is she my family?"

Vivian said softly, "Peyton, I'm just afraid you won't tell the truth."

The doctor called my name.

I went in and sat down. Just as I was about to speak, the door was pushed open again.

Linda handed a stack of papers to the doctor.

"Doctor, this is her history. We family members compiled it."

I saw the title read: Record of Peyton's Abnormal Behavior.

Item one: Suspected self-harm during college.

Item two: Prolonged low mood after failed blind dates.

Item three: Attacked Vivian at family dinner, persecution delusions.

Item four: Repeatedly harassed males, suspected paranoid personality.

I reached for it.

Linda pressed down on the papers. "This is for the doctor. Why are you grabbing?"

The doctor frowned. "Family members, please step outside."

Linda refused. "Doctor, you don't know how good she is at acting."

Vivian stood at the door, her voice trembling.

"Doctor, can I stay? If she gets agitated, I can calm her down."

I looked at her.

"You'll calm me down?"

Her eyes reddened again. "Peyton, don't be like this."

In the end, the doctor asked them all to leave.

After the door closed, he asked me, "Is this information accurate?"

I said, "It's not accurate."

"Do you have evidence?"

"I have screenshots that prove she's been messaging my blind dates with false information for a long time."

The doctor nodded. "You can file a police report or pursue civil litigation for defamation."

I'd just started to relax.

Outside the door, shouting suddenly erupted.

Linda's voice was piercingly shrill. "She pushed someone! Doctor, she pushed Vivian!"

I rushed out.

Vivian sat on the floor, her wrist scraped red in one spot, her mask fallen off, tears streaming down.

Sandra stood to the side, her face deathly pale.

When she saw me, her first words were, "Peyton, why did you come out just now?"

I froze. "I was inside the whole time."

Linda pointed at me. "You came out! You snuck out when the doctor wasn't looking, yelled at Vivian, and pushed her!"

I said, "There are cameras in the hallway."

Linda sneered. "The nurse just said this section of cameras is broken."

Vivian looked up, her voice breaking.

"Peyton, I don't blame you. You're just too scared."

People around us all turned to look.

Someone whispered, "That girl looks pretty normal. How could she do this?"

The doctor came out, his expression changed too.

"Peyton, calm down first."

I said, "I am calm."

Linda immediately jumped in. "She says she's calm every time she has an episode."

Sandra covered her mouth, tears falling.

"Peyton, I'm begging you, please stop this."

I looked at her.

"Mom, you think I pushed her too?"

She didn't answer.

Silence was the answer.

I suddenly remembered many years ago, when my wrist was cut by the fruit knife. I was trembling in pain, and Vivian stood at the kitchen door crying.

Linda rushed in and hugged her.

"Don't be scared, don't be scared. Peyton didn't mean to frighten you."

Back then my hand was covered in blood.

No one asked if I was hurt first.

Now it was the same.

Vivian steadied herself against the wall and stood up. Ethan had somehow arrived and draped his coat over her shoulders.

When he saw me, his eyes were full of disgust.

"Peyton, you really make me sick."

I said quietly, "I didn't push her."

"The cameras are broken. Of course you can say whatever you want."

Marcus's call came through at that moment.

I answered. Before I could speak, he said, "I'm at the entrance. Vivian sent me a message saying you're at the hospital threatening suicide and told me not to come."

I looked up at Vivian.

Her expression finally changed slightly.

I asked into the phone, "Why did you come?"

Marcus said, "To see how far one person can take their lies."

Before I could respond, Ethan suddenly snatched my phone and hung up directly.

"Enough. Stop dragging innocent people into this."

I reached for it.

He held the phone up high.

"Apologize to Vivian first."

I said, "Give it back."

Linda blocked Vivian. "Apologize, or you're not leaving today."

I looked at Sandra.

She shook her head, crying. "Peyton, just lower your head."

In that moment, I really was backed into a corner.

No cameras, no witnesses, not even my own family on my side.

I slowly spoke. "I'm sorry."

Vivian lowered her eyes.

"It's okay. I forgive you."

I stared at her scraped wrist.

"But you'd better rememberscrapes heal. Lies don't."

Ethan tossed my phone back into my arms.

"If you're really sick, don't drag other people down to rot with you."

"Peyton, the company suspended you."

When my supervisor called, her tone was much more polite than usual.

So polite that I immediately knew the news had spread.

"What's the reason?"

"Someone reported to HR that you pose a serious psychological risk and might endanger client safety."

I sat at my desk. The voices of several nearby colleagues suddenly dropped.

"Who reported it?"

My supervisor sighed. "Go home and rest for now. Wait for the evaluation results."

"The evaluation results aren't out yet."

"But they submitted documentation."

"What documentation?"

"Records from the community center, and a joint statement from your family members."

I hung up and opened my email.

The attachment HR sent included a scanned document.

The title was neatly written: Statement Regarding Peyton's Recent Abnormal Behavior.

The signature section had Linda, Vivian, and Harold.

Sandra's name was there too.

Those two characters were familiar. So familiar I could tell at a glance she didn't write them.

But the stamp was real.

I clutched my phone and went to find HR.

The HR manager closed the door, lowering her voice.

"Peyton, personally I believe your work performance has been fine, but the company can't take the risk."

I asked, "Who sent this?"

She hesitated.

"Someone named Vivian. She said she's your cousin."

"She's not my legal guardian."

"She provided your father's signature."

"I can request a review."

"You can, but the process takes time. Also, you have a client coming this afternoon. She already contacted the client in advance saying you've been unstable recently."

I laughed.

Vivian wasn't just stealing my blind dates.

She wanted to pluck me out of every place that could prove I was normal.

My Snapchat buzzed.

Vivian sent a voice message.

"Peyton, don't blame Harold and Sandra. I was the one who alerted your company. What if you have an emotional episode someday and hurt a client? You couldn't handle that responsibility either."

I replied: "What do you want?"

She quickly sent back text.

"Come to my place tonight. In front of Linda and Ethan, delete the screenshots."

The next message was more direct.

"Also, send Ethan a message saying you slandered me before out of jealousy."

I stared at the screen.

Half a minute later, another message came.

"If you don't come, I'll post about your evaluation in your company group chat."

I didn't reply.

At three o'clock in the afternoon, the client did come.

He was the project lead I'd been working with for six months. His last name was Wilson. He usually spoke bluntly.

His first words after sitting down: "Peyton, are you suitable to continue managing our account?"

I said, "I am."

He looked at me. "Someone said you hurt people at a family gathering."

"I didn't."

"Someone said you have a history of self-harm."

"I don't."

"Someone said you harassed your blind dates and retaliated against female relatives."

I looked up. "Mr. Wilson, are you here to discuss the project or interrogate me?"

He was silent for a few seconds.

"I'm here to assess risk."

Colleagues stood outside the glass door watching.

Those gazes weren't sharp, but they were dense.

My supervisor pushed the door open. "Peyton, step outside."

I didn't move.

Mr. Wilson suddenly pushed a piece of paper toward me.

"Vivian said if we change account managers, she can introduce resources from her fianc's family to me."

I looked at that paper.

On it was a client list written in Vivian's handwriting.

She was even poaching my clients.

My supervisor's face darkened. "Peyton, excuse yourself."

"Why should I be the one to excuse myself?"

"Because you're the one being complained about right now."

I stood up.

When I reached the door, my phone rang.

Marcus sent a video.

In the video, at the side entrance of the community center hallway, Vivian crouched down by herself, scraped her wrist against the rough corner of a wall, then sat down on the floor as if on cue.

The angle was very oblique, filmed from inside a car.

He sent a message: "My car was parked at the back entrance. The dashcam caught it."

My finger hovered over the screen.

This should be the first real piece of ammunition I'd gotten in days to hit back with.

But before I could save it, Ethan called.

I answered.

"Peyton, come to Vivian's place right now."

"What for?"

"She took sleeping pills."

My mind went blank.

"What did you say?"

"She left a suicide note saying you pushed her to this, saying if she dies, she hopes you won't hate her anymore."

My supervisor heard. Her expression changed instantly.

The HR manager poked her head in from the doorway. "What's going on?"

I didn't answer. I ran out.

In the taxi, Ethan never hung up.

"Peyton, are you satisfied now?"

"Did you call an ambulance?"

"We did."

"How many did she take?"

"Now you're scared?"

"Ethan, answer me."

He sneered. "People like you only care about whether you'll be held responsible."

When I got to Vivian's place, the door was open.

Linda sat on the floor crying. Ethan held Vivian. Her face was pale, but there were faint lipstick marks on her lips.

Paramedics were checking her.

I heard the nurse say, "Vital signs are stable. Probably didn't ingest much."

Linda lunged at me and grabbed my hair.

"You dare show up here! If anything happens to my daughter, I'll fight you to the death!"

She yanked me off balance. My phone fell to the ground.

The screen was lit, stopped on the video page Marcus had sent.

Vivian lay in Ethan's arms, eyes half-open.

She saw it.

The next second, she suddenly reached out and stepped on my phone.

The sound of the screen shattering was very soft.

But I heard it crystal clear.

She said weakly, "Peyton, stop trying to frame me with fake evidence."

Ethan shoved me away.

"Get out."

I fell against the coffee table. My elbow started bleeding.

Linda cried out, "Call the police! She drove my daughter to suicide!"

I looked at the shattered phone, chaos ringing in my ears.

The most crucial evidence had just gone black right before my eyes.

Ethan looked down at me from above.

"Peyton, from now on, who's going to believe you?"

Someone at the door responded, "I do."