Paid to Play: Simping for My Toxic Trust Fund Ex

My ex-boyfriend was loaded, so I became his simp for the cash.

I kissed his ass diligently every single day, right up until a two-faced pick-me girl stepped in.

On the day we broke up, I cautiously asked, Hey, about that condo you gave me... are you...

Can you just get the hell out of here? he snapped.

He was annoyed. It was a scorching hot day. I obeyed, clutching the deed to the condo, and ran away as fast as my legs could carry me.

Ever since elementary school, I was a total doormat for money. My desk-mate back then was filthy rich, his desk drawer literally stuffed with loose bills.

I ran errands for the little rich boy every dayfive bucks a pop. I was so money-hungry I even escorted him to the bathroom to make an extra buck. At a young age, my piggy bank was overflowing.

Eventually, the rich kid transferred schools, but the stash I saved up got me through my childhood.

In middle school, I ran a little side hustle. I'd hit up the corner store during lunch, pack my backpack full of snacks, and sell them at a markup to the kids in my class between periods.

My best customer was a girl named Harper. She was a preppy, flawless girl who got hundreds of dollars a day in allowance. I still don't understand her mindset back then.

Every recess, shed buy dozens of dollars worth of snacks from me. She wouldn't even eat them; she just bought them to pass around for fun.

When the empty wrappers littered the floor, shed pay me twenty bucks to sweep them up.

I was incredibly hardworking back then, buzzing around the rich girl day in and day out.

Honestly, most students have zero concept of money, so I made a killing.

On my best days, I could clear three hundred bucks. Student money is always easier to make than real-world money. People who haven't tasted absolute rock bottom don't realize how important cash is.

As for me? No mom, no dad. I grew up in the foster system, so I was street-smart from day one, constantly scheming on how to secure the bag.

When I got to college, I grinded hard to make a living. I worked my fingers to the bone until I met Tristan. He was a trust fund baby on steroids, spent money like water, and was an absolute godsend for my wallet.

What kind of guy was Tristan? A brilliant art major whose family owned a massive real estate empire.

A total golden boy. How did we meet? I was a campus RA, and this was the twelfth time Id caught him skipping class.

His academic advisor looked at the attendance sheet, furious. "So what if he's rich? Look, don't clear his name from this list. Let the penalties stand."

Since the advisor gave the word, I kept my mouth shut and kept marking him absent. Finally, right before the holidays, he sought me out.

He asked me what the deal was. I carefully replied, "I'm sorry, I don't really have a choice here."

"If theres no choice, invent one."

He leaned back on the sofa, looking at me with pure irritation. Later, I actually did invent a way for him. I ran around campus with the golden boy, pulled a few strings, and got the issue resolved.

He was extremely satisfied with my bootlicking. Probably because he was in a good mood, and because I looked tragically broke, he casually tossed me a designer gold chain.

A thirty-thousand-dollar piece of jewelry. I pledged my highest allegiance to the golden boy on the spot, texting him good morning and good night like clockwork.

Then one day, he asked if I was trying to hit on him.

I cautiously replied: Are you annoyed by my texts? I can stop sending them.

He didn't reply. A long time passed before a message popped up: Your name is Riley, right?

Yes. (Cute cat sticker attached).

You know Harper, right? The popular girl?

I do.

She flunked a final...

Understood. I'll ask around the registrar's office for you over the next couple of days.

Cool, thanks.

Tristan truly lived up to his status. Right below that text was a Venmo transfer. Five thousand dollars.

I didn't hesitate. I accepted the money and immediately sent back a wildly grateful reaction meme.

Probably because I took so much of his money in the beginning, the phrase Tristan said to me the most when we eventually started dating was: Riley, could you stop being such a gold digger?

I never defended myself. After all, I was a gold digger. I kept every single dollar he transferred me. From the very start, I was never in it for him.

How did Tristan and I actually start dating?

It all goes back to Harper. Harper and I actually had a lot of historysame middle school, same high school, and we both got into the same university.

But once college started, our majors were completely different, so we rarely spoke.

If we bumped into each other, we'd say hi, but that was the extent of it.

Until one night, in the dead of winter, Tristan called me. He asked if I had a ride. I said yes.

He said he was wasted and couldn't drive. He shot me a Venmo payment and told me to come pick him up.

In the middle of the night, I rolled up on my beat-up e-bike. The golden boy took one look at me and couldn't hold back a laugh.

"First time I've ever been on a moped."

"Do you want me to call you an Uber instead?"

"Nah, cars make me nauseous right now. The moped is fine. The fresh air will help."

I picked him up, but before we even got back to campus, the alcohol took over. He started crying softly, mumbling into the wind.

"She rejected me... First time I've ever confessed to a girl... and she rejected me..."

Tristan looked so incredibly pathetic in the night breeze. Eventually, he just wrapped his arms around my waist, rested his head against my back, and fell asleep.

I stiffened. I was only paid for a pickup; getting treated like a body pillow cost extra.

When I finally parked the bike, Tristan confessed to me. He didn't say it out loud. He just transferred me twenty thousand dollars with the memo: Be my girlfriend.

I gritted my teeth and accepted it. When I looked up, Tristan saw the transfer go through, shoved his phone into his pocket, and walked into his frat house, completely satisfied.

I stood outside in the freezing wind before it finally dawned on me.

The golden boy wasn't confessing his love. He was just humiliated from being rejected, and he was using me as a rebound to stroke his ego.

I stared at the balance in my banking app under the streetlights. The longer I looked, the wider I smiled. I went home and slept like a baby.

I had a boyfriend, but the only person who knew was Tristan. He didn't tell anyone, and neither did I.

Occasionally, hed Venmo me with a note: Come eat. Followed by an address.

I'd happily rush over. It was greatnot only did I get paid, but I also scored a free meal.

Sometimes it was just the two of us. Tristan would book a private room and eat at a leisurely pace. He was used to the finer things in life, completely unhurried.

He also couldn't stand seeing me scarf down my food. If I inhaled three bites at once, he'd raise an eyebrow. "Drink some soup."

Id take a sip from the tiny bowl, look up to make sure he was satisfied, and then get right back to devouring my meal.

If it was a group dinner, Id rein it in. I'd sit quietly, taking small, polite bites.

If someone spoke to me, Id look up, smile, and answer their questions. When they stopped asking, I went back to eating.

People told me I seemed so sweet and well-behaved, telling me to make myself at home. Id just smile and nod.

As for being "well-behaved," I really can't judge. All I can say is, if you grew up in the foster system, you'd be just as well-behaved as me.

I stayed in my lane. When my birthday rolled around, Tristan told me to come celebrate, so I went.

We were on his family's massive yacht. The ocean breeze felt incredible. I closed my eyes to make a wish.

He leaned back on the lounge chair and lazily interrupted, "If you want something, just say it out loud. Why keep it in your head?"

I hesitated for a second before bluntly saying, "I want a house."

Tristan raised an eyebrow. "Funny you say that. My family literally builds houses. Congrats, your wish aligns with my inventory. I'll take you to get the deed transferred in a few days."

He leaned back, casually scrolling through his phone.

He promised it so effortlessly that my heart pounded, but I didn't dare ask if he was serious.

I just cut myself a piece of cake and sat beside him. The sunset over the marina was gorgeous, and the frosting was so sweet. For a brief, crazy second, I turned my head. I wanted to kiss him.

I didn't care about the house anymore. I could always save up and buy my own eventually. In that exact moment, I just really, really wanted to kiss him.

But I didn't say a word, and I didn't move. He kept scrolling out of sheer boredom until he played an audio message.

I didn't catch what the voice said, but he frowned immediately. "Let's go. We're heading back."

It was getting dark. He had an emergency and left. I grabbed a rideshare back to my dorm, only to find out that Harper had passed out from low blood sugar and was rushed to the ER.

I leaned over my roommate's shoulder and saw a photo someone had taken at the hospital. Tristan was standing right by Harper's bed.

Suddenly, I remembered the slice of cake I never finished. I stood there for a long time, finally let out a yawn, took my phone, and climbed into bed.

For the next few days, Tristan was busy, and I didn't bother texting him.

It wasn't until the day Harper got discharged that Tristan finally messaged me, inviting me out.

A weekend camping trip. He sent the money, so I happily packed my little duffel bag and went.

When I arrived, I realized they brought two SUVs. Exactly eight people. I was the odd ninth wheel.

I froze. Everyone was already in their seats, dead silent. The awkwardness hit me like a truck, but I was already there. I couldn't exactly turn around and walk away without making it worse.

Tristan looked at me, frowned, and then glanced toward the park's shuttle carts nearby.

Harper reached out and grabbed my arm. "Come on in, we can squeeze."

There was a tiny bit of space in her row, but she had just gotten out of the hospital and clearly still looked weak.

I immediately shook my head. "I'll just take the shuttle cart! It goes to the same place."

Harper looked at me, our eyes met, and after a long silence, she finally let go of my arm.

Their cars drove off. I sat alone in the pavilion. It wasn't tourist season, so the park was completely deserted. Just me, sitting there by myself.

I waited a long time before the cart finally arrived. By the time I made it to the peak, it was pretty late. The group had already started the cookout.

I barely knew any of themId only had dinner with them once or twice. I found a quiet corner and sat there from noon straight through the afternoon.

Tristan was grilling. Occasionally, someone would hand me a skewer. The scenery was beautiful. Once I was half-full, I decided to go for a walk to look around.

I told Tristan I was heading out. He seemed preoccupied with something and didn't even look at me, just giving a dismissive grunt.

The mountain air was crisp. Because of my time in the group home, I rarely got the chance to just wander in nature.

I walked for almost an hour, figuring theyd be wrapping up lunch by now, so I headed back.

But things didn't go as expected. I stared at the completely empty campsite. In that split second, I realized it's impossible for a person to not feel a little heartbroken.

It was already dusk. The shuttle carts had stopped running. My only option was to walk down the mountain. The sun dipped below the horizon, and I was alone in the wilderness. Halfway down, my phone died.

I kept walking in dead silence. This trail felt exactly like the road I took when I ran away from the foster home as a little kid.

The same dim light, the same blurring surroundings, slowly dissolving into pitch-black, suffocating darkness.

I couldn't find my way home, and my dad wasn't coming back for me.

I looked around in sheer terror and started running. The moonlight filtered through the trees onto the dirt path. I was terrified. I screamed at the top of my lungs:

"Tristan...!"

The echo bounced through the mountains, sending a bone-chilling shiver down my spine.

I walked for the entire night. And I was terrified for the entire night.

When dawn finally broke, I found a bus driver at a transit stop who let me charge my phone.

He took one look at my disheveled state and jumped. "Were you out here all night? Why didn't you call 911?"

I held up my phone. "Forgot to check the battery. It died."

"Sweetheart, you can't come hiking all by yourself. At least bring a boyfriend or some friends!"

I did bring one... or maybe, he didn't count as one after all.

"Yeah, I'll remember that. Thanks so much, sir."

I turned my phone on to see a text Tristan had sent me last night. He said they were heading out first and told me to get home safe.

I let out a bitter laugh, leaned my exhausted body against the bus window, and fell asleep.

Tristan still called me out to eat every few days. One day, he apparently remembered his birthday promise.

He actually transferred the deed of a condo into my name. It wasn't massivethree bedrooms, never been lived in. For Tristan, it was probably just spare inventory he kept around for loose gifts.

The day I got the deed, I was just as ecstatic as I always was about cash. I happily inspected every inch of my new little home.

Tristan couldn't understand it. "It's just a small condo. You really like it that much?"

I nodded solemnly. "You just don't get it."

I was still the campus RA. When I didn't have class, Id check in for Tristan's courses. His only demand was that if he skipped, he didn't want to hear about any disciplinary issues.

I did my job perfectly. When winter break rolled around, everyone went home for the holidays. I didn't, because I didn't have a home.

I went to my little condo. It had basic furnishings, but not even a TV. I figured Id buy one before New Year's.

I bumped into Tristan while browsing at an electronics store. He was out with his little sister, who looked about eight or nine. She was adorable.

He clearly had no idea how to handle kids. The second he saw me, he grabbed my arm. I immediately slipped into my simp persona.

"Hey, Tristan."

"Do you know how to fold origami cranes?"

"Yeah."

"Teach her for a minute, I'll Venmo you."

Say less! I nodded instantly, noticing the little girl holding a piece of paper, crying her eyes out. Hearing my voice, she handed it to me.

It was just standard origami paper. I folded it up, and the little girl grabbed the paper crane and happily ran back to the play area.

Tristan frowned. "It's literally a cheap piece of paper. I don't get why she likes it so much."

I shook my head. "It has nothing to do with money. When you love something, even the cheapest thing in the world is a treasure."

He probably didn't expect that kind of answer from me. He gave me a look. "Buying stuff?"

"Yeah, looking for a TV."

"You helped me out. Come on, I'll pick one out for you."

Him picking it out meant he was paying. I instantly lit up. "Thank you so much!"

"Yeah..."

He bought me a really nice TV. Tristan and I were familiar with each other, but we were definitely miles away from being a real couple. Maybe just friends, or acquaintances with benefits.

I was a junior now, twenty-one years old.

I cooked myself a simple holiday dinner for one and watched the New Year's Eve fireworks explode outside my window. The streets were filled with teenagers running around with sparklers.

I grabbed the sparklers I bought, blended into the crowd, and walked down to the river to watch the show.

Back in the foster home, whenever New Year's Eve came around, wed eat dinner early and get sent straight to bed.

None of us could sleep. Wed wait for midnight. When the fireworks started going off outside, all of us kids would crowd around the tiny window to watch.

First, one kid would start crying, and soon, the whole room was in tears. We were so consideratewe never cried out loud. We just stared out the window with tears streaming down our faces.

We didn't want to upset the social workers who took care of us, but man, we missed the idea of a real family.

Tonight, watching the fireworks, I started crying again. Surrounded by a roaring, happy crowd, staring up at the bright sky, I laughed and wiped my tears at the same time.

Someone tugged at my jacket. I looked down. It was Tristan's little sister, Lily. She was holding a stuffed animal, her eyes wide and bright.

"Origami crane lady!"

"Where's your brother, sweetie?" I asked, picking her up.

"Over there."

I looked where she was pointing and saw the group. It was the same crew from the hiking trip, with Tristan standing right in the center.

They bought massive, gorgeous fireworks that painted the night sky red. Their celebration was loud and spectacular, and I was lucky enough to stand at the edge and watch.

I put Lily down, made sure she ran back to them safely, and then backed away into the shadows and went home.

The next morning, New Year's Day, I slept in until someone knocked on my door around noon. It was Tristan.

He handed Lily over to me. "She insisted on coming to wish you a Happy New Year. Wouldn't shut up about it."

"..."

"Happy New Year, Riley!"

I definitely didn't expect anyone to visit me for the holidays. I dug around frantically until I found a decorative envelope and stubbornly stuffed a twenty-dollar bill in it for her.

Before they even left, there was another knock on the door.

Busy morning. I opened the door and was immediately tackled in a bear hug.

"Riley! Did you miss me?! I missed you so much!"

The young guy hugged me so tight he was basically hanging off me. I fought for my life to push him away. "Noah, let go of me..."

"No way..."

"Ahem... we have company..."

Noah finally let go. He looked at Tristan holding a little girl in my living room, processed the scene, and stared at me in pure horror.

"Riley, please don't tell me you sold out to become some rich guy's stepmom?"

"?"

Are you out of your mind? Do I look like that kind of person?

"Do I look that old?" Tristan was the one who broke the silence.

Noah secretly rolled his eyes and whispered to me, "Who is this guy? Giving orders like he's your dad."

"Wow..."

"He's my friend, Tristan. This is his sister, Lily. And this is my brother from another mother, Noah."

Noah pouted. "Why do I have to be your brother? Can't I be your boy toy?"

"No. I don't date younger guys."

"Tch. Tastes can change. Whatever, I'll take the hit, you can call me 'babe'wait, Riley, don't walk away! What's for lunch? I was on a Greyhound bus all night, I'm starving..."

"Go sit at the table. Three minutes. The microwave is going, I'll bring it to you."

"No, you always burn your hands on those plates. I'll get it."

"You're gonna burn your hands too."

"That's different, it's my hands."

"Get out! Get out! I bought oven mitts."

Tristan stood by the kitchen watching us bicker for a moment before finally picking up his sister and leaving.

After eating, Noah happily crashed in my bedroom.

I hadn't bought a guest mattress yet, so my room was the only one set up.

I honestly didn't expect Noah to show up. Our colleges were on opposite sides of the country. Just getting here required three transfers, and holiday tickets were impossible to find.

Whenever we called, he always said he couldn't make it. Even when I called him yesterday, he said everything was sold out.

But on New Year's Day, there he was. I hadn't seen him in three years. He had changed so muchgotten so much tallerbut the second I saw him, he was still exactly the same kid I knew.

A lot of big box stores were open on New Year's Day. I went out and dropped nearly two grand on a high-end mattress, a luxury comforter, and hypoallergenic sheets.

My wallet was screaming in pain, but Noah's bedding had to be top-tier. He had incredibly sensitive skin and severe allergies. I still remember his first day at the foster home; they put him in the bed next to mine and told me to keep an eye on him. By midnight, he was covered in hives.

I woke up, saw his swollen face, panicked, and carried him outside.

The clinic doctor said he was allergic to the cheap detergent on the blankets and had almost gone into anaphylactic shock.

After that, Noah had his own special blankets that nobody else was allowed to touch. I was the only exception, because he was just a kid and didn't know how to do laundry yet.

Ever since the night I rushed him to the clinic, he clung to me. He was allergic to everything, but somehow, he wasn't allergic to me.

He was like superglue, always trying to stick himself to my side.

When he was a little kid, it was easy to carry him around. Now, he was six-foot-two. Hanging off me was just a liability.

Noah finally woke up around 8 PM. Still half-asleep, he stumbled out to find me, and instinctively tried to hug me again.

I shoved him away, and he finally snapped out of it.

"Evening, Riley."

"Go heat up your dinner. Use the oven mitts. Your room is set up down the hall."

"Riley, do you wanna check my suitcase?"

"Huh?"

"I brought you a present."

Suspicious, I unzipped his bag. It wasn't big, but sitting perfectly inside was a massive bouquet of roses.

"Happy New Year, Riley!"

I stared at the flowers. "Happy New Year."

"There's a debit card hidden in the bouquet. The pin is your birthday..."

"Noah."

"Yeah?"

"You don't need to do this."

"You have to take it. Maybe this means nothing to you, but it means everything to me. Not just because I love you, but because I want to actually provide for you. Even if you end up marrying someone else one day, or decide to live completely alone, you can't reject this. If you won't let me be your husband, I'll be your safety net.

"Riley, the reason I never visited all these years... I was broke. I didn't have the right to say any of this without capital. I was too ashamed to see you. But today, I finally can. It's been years. I missed you so damn much."

"Get out of here! Go eat your food and take your dramatic flowers to your room."

"No, I'm hungry. Don't cry, you're ruining the moment."

"Who's crying? I just have overactive tear ducts! I cry easily, that's all..."

Noah stayed with me for a while. I took him shopping for some new clothes.

Most of his clothes had to be specifically tailored from organic cotton. Not to flex, but because his immune system was practically aristocratic.

Compared to anyone else, this kid was the real high-maintenance diva.

It was the seventh time this month I bumped into Tristan while running errands. At this point, it was basically routine.

He looked at me, his face much darker than usual.

Noah couldn't stand him. The second he saw Tristan, he started roasting him. "Does he know how to do anything besides scowl? Riley, how much money do you owe him? Honestly, I'll sell a kidney to pay him back. Looking at his miserable face every day is a health hazard."

"Shut up. He gave me a condo. The one we're living in."

"Huh? Just that? We could pool our cash and afford that. Just give it back to him!"

"You shut up! I earned this condo. I had to go to a camping trip with his rich brat friends and ended up walking down a pitch-black mountain all night by myself. This is my hazard pay."

"Riley, that's messed up. Just wait. The startup I launched with my buddies is actually taking off. Once I make real money, I'll buy you ten condos. Go to grad school! I'll move out here to be with you. If my friends ask why I moved, I'll tell them I'm a sugar daddy for a grad student. Sounds amazing."

"Get out..."

Tristan watched us whispering with our heads practically glued together, his brow furrowing deeper. "Why do you two need to stand so close to talk?"

Noah muttered under his breath, "Talking trash about you."

But then he looked up and flashed a brilliant, fake smile. "Tristan, man! I'm heading out soon, so I need you to look after Riley for me. She gets spooked easily. Things like leaving her to walk down a pitch-black mountain by herself... let's try to avoid that in the future. She's just a girl, she was terrified..."

Tristan froze. "When did I ever make her..."

He stopped mid-sentence and locked eyes with me. I immediately looked at the floor. I didn't tell him, wasn't me.