The Two Ungrateful Traitors

I was out grabbing dinner with my boyfriend when the customer at the booth next to ours started screaming at a waitress. It was painfully obvious they were just picking a fake fight to shake the restaurant down for cash.

I couldn't just sit there and watch. I stood up and actually defended the girl, calling out the obnoxious customer.

But the waitress? She just kept her head ducked down, lips zipped tight, acting like she was paralyzed by fear.

Sitting across from me, my boyfriend finally had enough of the noise and casually threw in a sentence to back me up.

That was the exact millisecond she violently snapped her head up. Her eyes were perfectly rimmed with red. Staring right past me, she locked onto my boyfriend and choked out a teary, "Thank you so much!"

Then, dropping her voice into this sickeningly sweet whisper, she asked him, "Could I buy you dinner tomorrow to pay you back?"

I didn't even dignify that with a response. I stayed completely silent until the sweating restaurant manager came jogging over to our table.

The manager explained that their security camera was conveniently busted and begged me to give a witness statement to save the girl from paying the damages.

I just shook my head, flashing a polite, apologetic smile.

"Oh, I am so sorry," I said lightly. "I was just staring down at my food the whole time. I didn't notice a single thing."

The weekend started with a simple dinner date with my boyfriend.

The waitress serving the table next to ours fumbled her tray. A sticky slice of watermelon slipped and landed squarely on a little boy's lap.

The kid's mother instantly blew up.

"Are you completely brain-dead?!"

Realizing her mistake, the waitress froze. She stood there, wringing her hands and muttering endless apologies.

I squinted at her. She looked familiar.

A second later, it clicked. She was a freshman who had just joined our campus event committee. Naturally, I paid a little more attention to the drama unfolding.

The parents weren't having any of her apologies. The mother opened her mouth and demanded eight hundred dollars for the ruined designer clothes.

The freshman's face drained of color. She stammered, desperately trying to explain that the accident only happened because the kid had been jumping up and down on the booth cushions.

That was the wrong move. Instead of calming the parents down, it poured gasoline on the fire.

"So you're blaming my son now?" the father growled.

"Is this the kind of trashy service this place offers? You will apologize to my boy right now and pay up!"

The freshman's eyes filled with hot, panicked tears. Her gaze darted around the room and landed on me. It was like she had spotted a life raft.

"Miss, you saw the whole thing, right? Could you please tell them what happened?"

She stared at me with pure, begging desperation.

Since she was a junior from my university and we worked in the same committee, I couldn't just leave her hanging.

I gave a small nod.

"I didn't catch the entire thing. But when she was bringing the food over, I definitely heard her warn your son that jumping around was dangerous."

The moment the words left my mouth, the angry parents locked their sights on me.

"Why the hell are you defending this little bitch? Are you a bitch too?!" the mother shrieked.

"I know exactly how my kid behaves! You probably saved up for a month just to afford a meal here, you broke loser. Stop trying to play the hero!"

A hot spike of anger flared in my chest.

I opened my mouth to tell her that if she had a problem, we could just roll the security tapes.

But out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something. The moment the parents turned their wrath on me, the freshman let out a visible sigh of relief.

She shrank back into the corner, completely silent.

It was as if my stepping in to take the bullet for her had absolutely nothing to do with her.

My stomach dropped. Any desire I had to help this girl vanished into thin air.

Just then, my boyfriend returned from the cash register.

Sensing the thick tension in the air, he lowered his voice and asked me what was going on.

When I gave him the rundown, his jaw clenched.

"My girlfriend was just answering a question politely. Keep your personal attacks to yourself," he told the parents, his voice deadpan but carrying a sharp edge.

"If you insult my girl one more time, I'm calling the cops."

"She already agreed to pay for the dry cleaning and she apologized. There's no need to cross the line."

Maybe it was just my imagination.

But the moment the waitress noticed my boyfriend picking up his tailored jacket from the booth, revealing the heavy luxury watch on his wrist, her whole demeanor shifted.

My eyes turned icy. I immediately grabbed his arm.

If people didn't appreciate my help, I wasn't about to keep throwing my kindness at a brick wall.

Tristan picked up my phone from the table and handed it to me.

"Bill's paid. Let's go."

I nodded and turned toward the door.

But a soft, trembling voice called out from behind us.

"Tristan. Thank you so much for standing up for me."

The same freshman who had been hiding in the corner, pretending she didn't exist while I was getting screamed at, suddenly found her courage.

She stood there, twisting the hem of her apron. Her eyes were perfectly rimmed with red. She looked at Tristan with pure, unfiltered adoration.

I almost laughed out loud.

If I hadn't just witnessed her little disappearing act, I might have actually bought the innocent act.

What a joke.

I took the heat for her, and she didn't even utter a single syllable of thanks.

My boyfriend merely defended me, throwing a casual warning at the parents in the process, and suddenly he was her knight in shining armor.

Tristan turned his head. His expression was polite but completely distant.

"You go to Weston Uni too?"

The girl nodded eagerly. She didn't spare a single glance in my direction.

"Could I buy you a meal tomorrow? Just to say thanks. If it weren't for you, I don't know what they would have done to me today!"

Tristan flatly rejected her. "No need."

"I wasn't defending you anyway."

I felt a surge of annoyance at her audacity, but I didn't bother calling her out.

I just chalked it up to a bad judge of character on my part. I had helped the wrong person.

But the universe wasn't done with us. Just as we pushed open the heavy glass doors to the street, we heard her again.

"Wait! Tristan!"

The girl rushed out onto the sidewalk.

She was clutching a small, pristine bakery box.

Without waiting for permission, she practically shoved the dessert into Tristan's hands.

Sensing her movement, Tristan frowned deeply and stepped to the side, dodging her touch before she could make contact.

His tone carried a heavy trace of irritation.

"I said no need."

"I didn't speak up for you. The person you should be thanking is my girlfriend."

The girl froze.

She slowly turned to look at me, her eyes flashing with a strange, unreadable emotion.

Finally, she shoved the box toward my chest.

"Thanks."

"Since Tristan doesn't want it, you can have it."

Her gratitude was as fake as a three-dollar bill. I looked at her, a sarcastic smirk playing on my lips.

Somewhere between the restaurant and the sidewalk, her apron had magically vanished.

Now she was just standing there in her fitted uniform skirt, highlighting her slim figure. Her makeup was flawless.

Thinking back to the amount Tristan had just dropped on our dinner, the pieces clicked into place.

But the girl wasn't giving up. She lunged forward and grabbed Tristan's sleeve.

"Hey, the dorm curfews are probably active by now! If you're heading back to campus, you can walk with me!"

"I'm super tight with the security guard. I always finish my shifts around this time, so he lets me sneak in. Just stick close to me!"

Again, zero mention of me.

Tristan took a firm step back, ripping his arm out of her grasp.

"Not necessary. We have a place off-campus. We aren't going back to the dorms."

Hearing this, her eyes practically sparkled.

"Then you should at least add my number! I already gave your girlfriend a gift to say thanks, but I haven't properly thanked you yet!"

Before she could push her phone into his face, the restaurant manager came jogging out the door.

"Miss, I am so sorry to interrupt. We were just reviewing the incident in the back, and it turns out the camera in that corner is busted."

"You were the only table nearby. Would you mind staying to give a witness statement?"

I let out a short, airy laugh.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Manager. I was too busy looking down at my food. I didn't see a single thing."

The freshman, who had clearly assumed she was off the hook for the damages, panicked.

"What do you mean?! Just a minute ago you said..."

"I didn't say anything. Like I said, I was just eating my dinner."

Seeing the icy smile on my face, the seasoned manager instantly read the room.

I wrote the whole thing off as a bizarre little glitch in my day and pushed it out of my mind.

I honestly thought I would never have to deal with her again.

I was dead wrong.

Once we got back to the daily grind at university, things got insanely busy.

A whole week blew by before I finally had the time to meet up with Tristan again.

Tristan and I were in the same graduating class.

We bumped into each other back in our freshman year when we accidentally swapped garment bags backstage at a gala.

Honestly, getting together with Tristan was something I never saw coming.

Our backgrounds were night and day.

We ran in completely different circles.

Add to that the fact that we were in entirely different majors and departments. If it hadn't been for that backstage mix-up, we probably would have gone our whole college lives without crossing paths.

My family ran a massive international shipping corporation. We were doing very, very well.

Tristan was a local. His parents owned a tiny, rundown hair salon right outside the campus gates.

Because their styling skills were stuck in the past, business was brutal.

A few months ago, they were on the verge of bankruptcy.

Feeling bad for him, I went in and loaded up a VIP membership card with fifteen thousand dollars.

That massive injection of cash eased their financial choking hazard, and the salon was saved.

I just hated seeing Tristan stressed out over money.

Fifteen grand was pocket change to me anyway. I figured I'd just use it up over time for blowouts and treatments.

But when I walked into the salon that day, I saw a familiar silhouette sweeping the floor.

It was the freshman from the restaurant.

She glanced up, made eye contact with me, and then immediately looked away like I was a total stranger. Not a single word of greeting.

I wasn't about to beg for her attention.

When Tristan came out from the back room, I casually asked him what was going on.

His expression didn't change a bit when I brought her up.

"She probably got fired over what happened the other night."

"My parents put up a hiring sign recently, and she walked in for an interview."

"You know how it is. My parents run the show here. By the time I found out, she was already on the payroll."

I nodded slowly.

It was true. Tristan rarely meddled in his parents' business.

He only ever hung around the shop when he knew I was coming over.

Normally, he was swamped with his own stuff.

We grabbed a quick lunch, and I went back to my apartment.

I didn't stress over the fact that this girl was working at his parents' place.

After all, a man who can be stolen away was never yours to begin with.

Plus, Tristan's new startup studio was entirely funded by my money.

I usually drove home to see my parents on the weekends.

After my Friday afternoon lecture, I stopped by the salon, planning to get a quick hair wash and blowout before hitting the highway.

But right after I finished, I was told my VIP card was empty.

A fifteen-thousand-dollar pre-paid card. I had barely been here a handful of times, and now it had a zero balance.

I furrowed my brows and stared at the girl behind the cash register. Lily.

I had learned her name from the campus committee roster a few days ago.

Hearing my confusion, she gave me a look dripping with pure contempt, though she plastered a sickly sweet customer-service smile on her face.

"I'm sorry, Miss. Your card has zero balance. How would you like to pay today?"

When she saw me reaching for my phone to call Tristan, she let out a loud, mocking scoff and actually reached over the counter to snatch my phone away.

"Have you no shame? How thick does your skin have to be to demand Tristan's parents add fifteen thousand dollars to a fake account when you didn't spend a single dime of your own money?"

I let out a dark laugh.

So the rat was finally showing her teeth.

She actually believed my VIP balance was just a favor I begged out of Tristan, assuming I hadn't paid a cent.

So she just went into the system and wiped it out.

Instead of blowing up, I just smiled. "Are you really that sure I didn't drop cold, hard cash on this account?"

She looked at me like I was delusional.

"I am an employee of this establishment now. It is my absolute duty to protect the shop from leeches!"

"I'm not going to tolerate people like you who just hold their hands out for freebies! Every dollar Tristan has, he earned with his own blood and sweat! Do you have any idea how exhausting it is for him to run his studio all by himself?!"

"If you refuse to pay your bill right now, I have no problem blasting your face all over the campus forums!"

She lifted her chin, staring down her nose at me from behind the register, looking like some righteous martyr.

Looking at her misplaced arrogance, I didn't have the energy to argue with stupid.

I glanced around. Tristan's parents weren't in the shop.

I calmly picked up the salon's landline and dialed Tristan's number.

I don't know what Tristan told her on that call.

I only had one demand. Lily needed to apologize to me.

Whatever he said must have hit hard, because a few minutes later, Lily ran out from the back room with tears streaming down her face.

Seeing me still standing by the styling chairs, she shot me a look of pure venom before sprinting out the front door.

Tristan walked out right behind her.

Seeing me, he rubbed his temples, looking utterly exhausted.

"Babe, I'm sorry. I know that was messed up."

I raised an eyebrow. "You don't need to apologize to me. You didn't do it."

"Just make the person who did it give me an apology."

I wasn't about to drop my demand just because the girl squeezed out a few crocodile tears.

Tristan shifted uncomfortably.

"Come on, just let it go. Do it for me."

"Lily just didn't understand the situation. At the end of the day, she was just trying to look out for my family's business."

The warmth vanished from my face.

"Is asking for a simple apology crossing a line? You're my boyfriend. Why are you apologizing on behalf of another woman?"

I turned on my heel and walked out, not looking back.

Later that night, I finally got the apology.

A stiff, three-word text message. I am sorry.

I didn't care.

But from that day on, I noticed a subtle, chilling distance whenever Tristan and I texted.

I brushed it off. I stuck to my weekend plans and drove home.

But when I woke up in my childhood bedroom, I noticed a new addition to the group chat I shared with Tristan and my best friends.

Tristan had added someone.

I immediately opened a private chat with him. What's going on?

It took him hours to reply.

When he finally did, it was a voice note. The background was noisy, and I could faintly hear a girl's voice asking him a question.

"It's the new girl from the salon."

"My parents want to run a promotion to get the old VIPs to come back and top up their cards."

"They figure since she goes to our college, she knows how all this social media stuff works. They made me add her."

"Since that group chat has a bunch of our best paying customers, I just added her in."

His voice was terrifyingly calm. Something felt incredibly off, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

That group chat was almost entirely made up of my high school friends.

They went to different colleges in the city, not Weston Uni.

Because they loved me, whenever they visited my campus, they went to Tristan's parents' salon and bought VIP cards.

Some dropped a thousand, others dropped three thousand.

I sent back a generic 'goodnight' sticker and went to sleep.

The long highway drive had drained me.

But the next morning, when I checked my phone, I almost threw it at the wall.

In the dead of night, Lily had changed our group chat name.

It went from Ride or Die Crew to Lily's Exclusive Fan Club.

She had also changed her own nickname in the chat to Tristan's Right-Hand Girl, Lily!

"Hi everyone! Tristan's mom told me that you are all our VIPs!"

"I'm here to shower you guys with some amazing exclusive perks!"

She followed up with a wall of text detailing the salon's new promotional discounts.

Then she systematically tagged every single person in the chat, begging them to come down and load up their cards.

The only person she didn't tag was me.

My best friend Stella had blown up my phone at 2 AM with a dozen messages.

What the hell, girl?! Who is this freak your man just added?

Who wants to be in her fan club? The absolute nerve!

I'm gonna vomit. I'm leaving this chat.

Wake up! Are you dead?! Say something!

Get out of bed and kick this pick-me bitch out of the group!

The chat was filled with my closest friends, and Lily's unhinged late-night stunt had left everyone completely speechless.

I dialed Tristan's number and let it ring until he picked up.

He had clearly just woken up and hadn't checked his phone yet. When I described the bloodbath in the group chat, he was at a loss for words.

"I'm so sorry. I'll make her leave the group."

I don't know what Tristan said to her.

But by the time I finished brushing my teeth, the group name was back to normal.

And the girl was gone.

After that nightmare, I sat down with Tristan and laid out exactly where my boundaries were.

Knowing I was furious, and knowing he had messed up, he promised to make it up to me on Monday.

His apology seemed genuine, so I let the issue rest.

But when I walked into his parents' salon on Monday, the atmosphere was completely toxic.

Tristan's mother was lying back, resting her head on Lily's lap while Lily gently plucked out her gray hairs.

Lily's hands moved delicately while she kept up a constant stream of cheerful chatter.

She looked like the picture-perfect daughter-in-law.

Tristan's mom was clearly eating it up.

It was obvious, considering every other stylist in the shop was sweating and working, while Lily got to sit and play favorite.

But the second Lily saw me walk through the door, her eyes went red again.

She instantly dropped her gaze and stopped laughing with the mother.

I seriously wondered if the girl had a medical condition.

Her eyes watered on command.

The other stylists noticed the awkward shift in the air and slowly stopped talking.

Tristan's mother finally noticed me standing there.

"Oh, Serena. Here for a wash?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm grabbing a movie with Tristan later."

The mention of my date with Tristan made Lily tense up.

She gently tugged on the mother's sleeve.

The older woman patted Lily's hand, giving her a reassuring look.

Then she walked over and took my arm.

"Alright, go lie down over there."

I shot Tristan a quick text saying I had arrived, then leaned back into the washing basin, waiting for a stylist.

But I quickly realized something was wrong.

Lily was the one standing over me.

Before I could say a word, she grabbed the showerhead. Without checking the temperature, she turned it on full blast right over my face.

Ice-cold water sprayed everywhere. Then, with a 'clumsy' flick of her wrist, she aimed the nozzle directly at my face.

Remembering the full face of makeup I had just spent an hour doing, I threw my hands up to block the water.

But she was faster. She pinned my shoulder down with her free hand and kept blasting my face with the freezing spray.

I ripped myself out of the chair. Seeing the smug, victorious gleam in her eye, I swung my arm and slapped her across the face.

The sharp crack of skin against skin echoed through the dead-silent salon.

Lily snapped out of her shock. Screaming at the top of her lungs, she lunged at me, claws out.

I sidestepped smoothly, letting her stumble past me.

I glanced at Tristan's mother, who was standing a few feet away, completely unfazed.

It all made sense now.

She had picked Lily out as her new favorite for Tristan.

And they wanted to put me in my place.

She had always believed the fifteen grand in the VIP system was Tristan's hard-earned cash.

She thought Tristan was just using my name to hide the money, afraid his proud parents wouldn't accept a direct handout.

She had always hated me, convinced I was a gold digger bleeding her precious son dry.

"Don't you think you're taking this a bit too far?" I asked, my voice deadly calm.

My hair was soaking wet. Mascara was running down my cheeks. I looked like a wreck.

But I didn't feel an ounce of fear.

Tristan's mother finally snapped into action. She rushed over to Lily, checking her face frantically.

Seeing the red handprint blooming on Lily's cheek, she looked like her heart was breaking.

When she turned back to me, her face was twisted in pure hatred.

"Get the hell out of my shop! You are not welcome here!"

"Break up with my son right now! I've been sick of looking at your face for months! All you do is scam him out of his money!"

"Lily was just protecting our business! That VIP card was funded by my son's paycheck!"

"How dare you force this sweet girl to apologize to you!"

I didn't say a word. I just locked eyes with Tristan, who had just rushed through the front door.

Meeting my cold stare, he immediately looked away.

When his eyes landed on Lily's bruised cheek, his expression darkened.

"Serena, did you hit her?"

His guilt had morphed into accusation.

I almost laughed.

He was my boyfriend. Yet the first thing he noticed wasn't his girlfriend standing there, dripping wet and shivering.

It was the red mark on his new employee's face.

Whose boyfriend was he anyway?

When I saw him instinctively reach out to touch Lily's face, a cold realization washed over me.

"You two have been getting pretty cozy over this past week, haven't you?"

My voice was dripping with venom.

Hearing this, Tristan exploded.

He kicked a styling chair hard. "Are you done making a scene?! Stop acting like a paranoid psycho!"

"Apologize to her!"

Every single person in the salon froze.

The low hum of the blow dryers died out.

All eyes were on us, yet not a single person stepped up to defend me.

Whatever poison Lily had been dripping in their ears, they all looked at me like I finally got what I deserved.

The man who used to be my loving boyfriend was now publicly humiliating me.

Demanding I apologize to a snake without even asking what happened.