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The First, But Not the Last Lie

Xierinel
7
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The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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Synopsis
"How could you forget only me? Are you lying?" This harsh reality is something Rava Swift, at the tender age of twenty-two, understands deeply. During daylight hours, he's a picture-perfect barista at the exclusive Bloom Café. Come nightfall, he transforms into SB23, a successful streamer who trades on the illusion of connection, offering simulated intimacy to legions of unseen followers. His existence is a meticulously crafted equation, where every element has its assigned value. That is, until Blaine Crosby enters the scene. With the arrival of the new barista, Rava's perfectly balanced universe starts to unravel. Blaine's gaze lingers. His touch is unlike any other. His words… they are foreign, unheard by Rava until now. But fate, or perhaps something more sinister, may intervene. Will they find their way to each other, or will the iron grip of Hades Aven, the creator of the MYR platform, with his unwavering policy of absolute transparency, tear them apart?
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Chapter 1 - Prologue

[WARNING

This book contains mature and potentially disturbing themes, including explicit sexual content, violence, coercion, and suicide.

These scenes are fictional and exist solely within the author's imagination. Do not attempt to recreate or imitate any actions described.

The setting, characters, and events are entirely works of fiction and not based on real-life occurrences.

This material is intended for adult readers only. If you are sensitive to such topics, please consider whether this book is right for you.

Thank you. ]

The school was buzzing like a beehive.

Screams, excited voices, the tramp of many feet... everything merged into one dull noise. Security, teachers, students, cleaners - they crowded into a tight circle in the middle of the corridor, their faces pale from fear and incomprehension.

He ran.

The young trainee teacher, always impeccably collected, now looked as if he himself had survived a catastrophe. His tie was hanging around his neck, the buttons of his jacket were unbuttoned. He almost did not feel his legs, jumping over the steps, pushing onlookers, not paying attention to the shouts and pain from the collisions.

"I was too late"

"I was late."

These words hit his temples harder than his heart.

The crowd in front of him became a wall. He was suffocating. His dry throat couldn't force out a word, but his body moved on its own, pushing its way through tightly closed backs and shoulders.

"Move aside!" a muffled cry escaped his lips.

But he barely had to push: people were moving away on their own, hoping that it was a doctor.

When the last person moved away, revealing his view, he fell to his knees.

Directly in front of him, on the cold tiled floor, lay a teenager - dark hair, like pitch, tangled and disheveled. His thin body seemed almost broken, his clothes were torn and dirty from feet, spit and whitish liquid.

The boy was barely breathing. His lips were blue.

He reached out, wanted to touch him, but his fingers trembled traitorously. He knew that he shouldn't touch, he knew that it was too late... but he couldn't help himself.

Tears poured from his eyes before he could stop them.

"I'm sorry..." he breathed out, bending so low that his forehead almost touched the floor next to the stranger's cold body.

"Forgive me... I was too late.. Forgive me..."