Chapter 1

My fiancé's first love is the internet's biggest prankster—and for three years, I've been her favorite target.

Every video she posts with me in it goes viral.

"Real love can take a joke," she always says.

So Ryan never stops her. He plays along. Every single time.

I'm their clown. Their content. The internet's favorite punching bag.

"Love means being open to surprises," she says.

So on my birthday, at my own engagement party, they humiliate me on camera. I cry. Ryan just stands there, smiling, taking photos.

"I need to test how much you can take," she says.

So the whole internet calls me a homewrecker. A side chick. Trash chasing a taken man.

Ryan never corrects them. When I break down, he just pats my hand.

"You're my girlfriend. That's the truth. You don't need strangers' approval."

Three years. Every ugly, humiliating second of my life—cut into TikToks that rack up millions of views.

Then comes the wedding.

In front of everyone, Ryan takes my hand so gently. He slides the ring onto my finger.

My eyes fill up. I really think I've finally made it. I really think I finally have him.

Then Lindsay walks up, laughing, holding an empty ring box up to the camera. She claps her hands.

"Congrats to me—my latest prank worked perfectly!"

"Nora never noticed. The box Ryan used tonight? Fake. The ring inside? Fake, too. I swapped them both out last night."

The whole room explodes with laughter. The livestream blows up in seconds.

I stare at the ring. The diamond on my finger burns like a slap.

And now I get it.

This whole wedding? Start to finish? Just their grand finale prank.

I don't scream. I don't ask questions.

I slide the ring off. I turn around. I walk out.

...

"Ry! I killed it again!"

Lindsay high-fives Ryan, cackling like she just won the lottery.

"Told you — I'm built for this influencer life! This one's hitting a hundred million easy!!!"

"Yeah. You crushed it."

Ryan smiles at her like she hung the moon. His eyes never leave her face.

Me walking out? He doesn't even notice.

I curl my fingers into fists and drag myself home.

Strangers stare at me the whole way. Whispering. Filming.

The second I close my door, my legs give out. I hit the floor.

My wedding dress scratches at my skin. My arms are already raw and red.

I laugh. Bitter. Ugly.

Because this isn't the dress I picked out. The one I spent two weeks choosing.

This is a cheap knockoff. Swapped without me knowing.

Another prank.

I exhale. My chest feels hollow.

I check my phone. Seven missed calls. All from Mom.

I call back. No answer.

My stomach drops. "Please, God, don't let her have seen it."

Her nurse usually keeps her phone away. She couldn't have watched the livestream. Right?

I breathe out slowly.

Then Ryan's text lights up my screen.

"Lindsay's right. You're getting bratty. Walking out on our wedding? Did you even think about how we felt?"

No apology. No "are you okay?" Just blame.

Same story. I'm the one bleeding. But somehow I'm always the villain.

I grip the phone tight.

For the first time in three years, I don't text back.

I open the trending page. It's all me.

Me, standing there like an idiot in slow motion. Zoomed in. Replayed. Ripped to shreds in the comments.

"Dying — Nora looks like a literal clown 😂"

"Lindsay's finale is UNMATCHED. Empty ring box?? Iconic."

"OMG Ryan is SO in love with her. First loves hit different 💕"

"My brain hurts. Who lets themselves get punked for THREE YEARS and still marries the guy??"

"Ban this cheap content!! ✋"

...

"Guys, it's her wedding tho. Isn't this a bit much?"

"Nora, log in on your MAIN and defend yourself. Oh wait — you can't. You know you're the side chick."

The few sane comments get buried in seconds.

Someone photoshops my face onto a black-and-white funeral photo. It spreads everywhere.

Three years I waited for this wedding.

And I ended up the biggest joke on the internet.