The Nerd Who Played the Game

I listened to the story, feeling nothing.

With the $50 million from Shannon's father, I could rebuild my life in Bris.

I dove headfirst into a top design academy, tackling language barriers, cultural shocks, and grueling coursework.

No more pandering to Shannon's whims or suffocating under my family's toxicity. There were only pencils, blueprints, and dreams of the future.

Time blurred in a whirlwind of creativity.

Fueled by relentless hustle and innate flair, my jewelry creations shone at major fashion weeks and earned me prestigious international awards.

Promoted to chief designer at Lumina, I was sent home to spearhead the expansion.

On my inaugural day, I slipped into a cozy café for lunch when a hesitant voice pierced the din. "Troy Nielsen? Is that you?"

I turned to see a familiar face. I remembered Jenny Pike, a classmate who sat in front of me back in high school.

Her eyes bulged, scanning me with unmasked awe and disbelief. "Gosh, it's really you. You've totally reinvented yourself."

Time had sculpted away my youthful awkwardness, replacing it with a grounded poise honed by global experiences.

"Hey, it's been a while," I replied evenly.

"This is serendipity!" Jenny bubbled. "We're having a class reunion upstairs at the swanky Cloud Lounge. Lots of folks are coming, including Shannon. You've gotta join. They'll flip when they see you now."

It had been a while since I heard that name, but like a faint, faded snapshot, it barely stirred dust in my memory banks.

I considered declining, then decided that avoidance was unnecessary.

"Sure," I said instead.

The day blurred with handover tasks, leaving me no time to catch a breath.

By the time I remembered the gathering, it was already late.

Skipping freshening up at the hotel, I ascended to the lounge in my casual clothes.

Pushing through the ornate doors, I was met with a cacophony of laughter and clinking glasses.

The room was large and opulent. In the center stood a massive round table packed with people.

My gaze swept the assembly, involuntarily landing on a radiant figure at the head.

Shannon looked more mature now. Her skin glowed under subtle makeup, her lithe frame draped in a chic ensemble that screamed affluence. Her legs elegantly crossed as admirers orbited her like planets.

Beside her lounged a strapping young man in flashy clothes. It was not Hunter Ward, but a fresh face.

Apparently, her arm candy had upgraded.

A brief hush fell before a tipsy guy spotted me. "Whoa, look who is here? Isn't that Shannon's former simp?"

Pandemonium ensued. Stares laden with shock, schadenfreude, and curiosity pinned me in place.

Shannon's head snapped up, her pupils contracting at the sight of me. Her casual poise froze into stunned complexity.

Her boyfriend noticed, tightening his arm around her waist. His glare at me was appraising and hostile.

"Troy?" he drawled.

Ignoring the buzz, I navigated to a vacant seat beside Jenny. I sat down with composed grace and poured myself a glass of water.

"Troy, it's been forever!" trilled Cindy Campbell, bedecked in gaudy jewelry and heavy perfume. "Word is you bailed on college. Figures, with your family's finances in the gutter. So, where have you been slumming it? Don't tell me the whispers are true, that you snagged a sugar mama to fund your lifestyle."

Her taunt sparked snickers from those nearby.

"I was abroad for a few years. Just got back," I replied curtly, uninterested in elaborating.

"Abroad, eh?" Liam Grant interjected with exaggerated pity.