Back in the dormitory, Jake set the bouquet of roses gently on the desk.
His three roommates were sprawled around the small room, counting money with smug grins.
The quiet, bookish Matt handed over two $100 bills—one to Chris, who was tall and burly, and one to Sean, the wiry one with thick glasses and a sarcastic mouth.
"Man, money comes so easy when it's Jake's heartbreak on the line," Chris laughed.
"Jake, you're the MVP tonight. I'm ordering steak," Sean grinned, folding the bill into his wallet.
Somehow, Jake's public confessions to Emma had become their twisted form of entertainment. Each time, they bet on the result, alternating between winners and losers, and ending the night at a bar, funded by whoever lost the bet. Even Jake joined in the jokes now. He smiled and said:
"If she says yes next time, I'll take you guys on a cruise."
Matt, who'd lost today's round, sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Jake, man… it's been ninety-nine times. She didn't even bother coming to the window this time. Why do you keep doing this?"
Jake just smiled faintly. "You don't understand."
Chris and Sean exchanged a look but didn't argue. They'd tried before, but Jake was unshakable—like the earth itself beneath their feet.
People on campus had called him a fool, a simp, a love-struck idiot who was just humiliating himself. But they didn't know the whole story.
Because Jake wasn't just doing this for love.
He had a system—a strange, inexplicable voice that had appeared in his mind three months ago:
> [System: Target locked – Emma Blake. Personality trait: Cold and untouchable. Objective: Collapse the persona.]
The system rewarded Jake every time Emma did something out of character because of him. The more she cracked, the greater his reward. But despite his tireless efforts—confessing every single day for three months—he'd received nothing.
Not a single glitch in her perfect ice queen act.
Until recently.
Lately, Jake had started noticing changes. Small, delicate cracks in her mask. The way she lingered at the window. The hesitation in her eyes. He knew she was wavering.
And tomorrow—the hundredth confession—might just be the moment she breaks.
---
The Next Morning
Jake had no classes. He slept in late, the exhaustion of routine and hope pressing heavily on him. His dreams were fragmented—some sweet, some bitter.
When he finally stirred, it was past noon. Matt nudged him with a takeout box.
"Lunch. Eat up. Then it's time for your daily confession quest, Romeo."
Jake sat up, yawning. "What quest?"
Chris smirked. "The daily soap opera outside Willow Hall. You skipping today or do we place our bets again?"
Jake stretched, stood up, and said calmly:
"Screw it. I'm not going."
The room went silent.
"Wait—what?" Sean blinked, halfway through unzipping his wallet.
"I said I'm not going." Jake grabbed his towel and headed toward the bathroom.
Matt stood there frozen. Chris nearly dropped his phone. Sean looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"Did he just say he's not confessing today?"
"Jake? The guy who swore to propose 100 times?"
"Dude… that's it. He's broken."
They stared at the closed bathroom door, stunned. Then, all three grinned.
"He's finally come to his senses!"
"It's her loss, man. Emma had her chance."
"To our boy Jake—free at last! We party tonight!"
When Jake returned, his roommates clapped him on the back like he had just been rescued from a burning building. He just chuckled, said nothing, and let them believe whatever they wanted.
He didn't tell them the truth.
That this wasn't defeat.
This was the final move.
---
Meanwhile, outside Willow Hall...
It was almost 1:00 PM. Students paused as they passed the front gate, checking their phones and looking around.
"Weird. Jake's usually here by now."
"Maybe he's running late?"
"No way. That guy showed up during a thunderstorm once with soggy flowers. He's never missed a day."
"It's his hundredth confession today. I thought for sure she'd say yes."
More students gathered out of curiosity. Some brought popcorn. A few livestreamed it. The whole campus had been quietly rooting for Jake.
Tick. Tick. 1:00 PM.
But no one showed up.
No footsteps. No flowers. No Jake.
Just silence.
People began murmuring.
Up on the fourth floor, Emma stood frozen by her window, clutching the curtain in her hand.
Her roommates watched her, silent.
Her eyes scanned the crowd below, searching for that familiar figure. The boy with the silly smile and endless hope. The boy who made her heart flutter even when she told herself it couldn't.
But he wasn't there.
Not today.
Her heart dropped.
"…Why didn't he come?" she whispered.
No one answered.
Because no one knew.
But everyone could feel it:
Something had changed.