Episode 1

"If you're not that pretty, just edit it. It's not that deep."

That's my life motto. My name's Rena. Nothing special, really. My nose isn't sharp, my skin isn't fair, and I'm not that tall either. But if you looked at my Instagram, you'd probably think I’m the school’s mini-celebrity. The feed is super neat, filters are aesthetic, and everyone thinks I live this exciting life. But actually...

“Ren, go buy two fried tofu, okay,” Mom's voice from the kitchen slips into my room. I’m lying down holding my phone.

“Yeah, Ma, just a sec!”

I opened my IG story. I’d just posted a boba drink I bought last week—I saved it as backup content. Truth is, today I only drank sweet tea from a thermos.

My life? Simple. Sometimes I eat nothing but tempeh. But on social media? Different story.

I like being that ‘other version’ of me. The prettier one, cooler, more... likable.

Every evening before Maghrib, I sit on the second floor of my house, by the window. That golden sunlight is the best lighting for selfies. I know my best angles, which filters make my skin glow. It’s all like a routine by now.

Friends at school often say, “Rena, your feed looks so good,” or “Your face is so smooth on your story. What skincare do you use?”

I just smile. Saying “It’s Snapseed and Lightroom” doesn’t sound cool.

In real life, I don’t have many friends. I’m not like those who hang out every weekend or have big, noisy squads. I’m more comfortable alone—or maybe just with Lala, my only friend who doesn’t even have an Instagram account.

“You’re editing photos again, huh?” Lala asked one day during lunch break.

I gave a small smile and closed my phone screen. “Just tidying up my feed.”

“You’re pretty, Ren. You don’t need to keep doing that.”

I only nodded, though I didn’t believe it. Because I know, if I post an unedited photo, no one would like it.

One night, I was scrolling through IG’s explore page. Tons of handsome guys flashing by. But I wasn’t interested. They all looked... fake. Until I found this one account.

@dark.boy.__

Only 3 photos. But the captions hit different. Not the usual guy flexing abs or bikes.

“Sometimes, the ones who look the happiest... are the emptiest inside.”

I don’t know why, but I got curious. My account isn’t private, and I noticed he viewed my story after I viewed his.

That night, the first DM came.

dark.boy.__: “You look happy all the time. But your eyes seem like they’re holding something.”

My heart skipped a beat.

That was the beginning.

But not really. This was just the start. Because I didn’t know who he was yet. I didn’t know my life was about to change after that.

What I did know was that, that night, I smiled at my screen.

Even though just a few hours before, I cried because I felt... so empty.

And no one knew.

Except him.

Who is he? Wait. The story's just beginning.

---

“Thank you for reading the first chapter!

If you enjoyed it, don’t forget to follow, like, and leave a comment.

Your support gives me the strength to keep writing and growing.

See you in the next chapter!”

Episode 2

Since that first DM from @dark.boy.__ came in, I started getting curious. Not because he was handsome or anything, but because he was different. Not like other guys who usually act all cool or just comment flame emojis on stories.

> “You always look happy. But your eyes seem to be hiding something.”

I didn’t really get what he meant. But I replied anyway, just because… well, I was bored and wanted to chat.

> “Maybe it’s just good lighting.”

He replied fast:

> “Or maybe you’re just really good at hiding everything.”

From there, we started DM-ing often. The convo flowed, though sometimes super random. He said he liked reading books, writing poetry, and hated crowds. Totally matched the vibe I gave off on IG. But what made me even more suspicious—he never posted his face.

I once teased, “Send a selfie!”

He replied, “I’m shy in photos. Not photogenic.”

Hmm… weird. But whatever. I wasn’t exactly honest about my looks either.

At school, Lala started getting suspicious. She sat beside me during lunch break and peeked at my phone.

> “Who are you chatting with? You’re smiling way too much.”

I quickly locked my screen. “Just an IG friend.”

> “What’s his name? Is he cute?”

I shrugged. “Dunno… he’s mysterious.”

Lala stared at me for a while. “Be careful, okay? People on IG can be anyone.”

I just grinned, but honestly… I was thinking the same.

That night, I checked his account again. Still just three photos. All artsy. But when I searched one using Google Lens… one of them showed up on Pinterest. Exactly the same. Not even edited.

I froze. Maybe… he’s not the guy in the photos.

But weirdly, I still wanted to talk to him. I don’t know why. Maybe because… I wasn’t the girl he thought I was either. So, fair game, right?

A few days later, a fake account commented on one of my posts:

> “Thick filters, huh, Miss?”

> “Bet you look totally different in real life.”

I deleted the comments, but it stung. That night, I stared at the mirror for a long time. Looking at my face without filters, without the golden-hour lighting I always relied on for selfies.

But I didn’t cry. I was used to it. As long as everything looked fine on IG, I was fine.

Then @dark.boy.__ started replying less. Sometimes he’d reply, but only short stuff. “Hehe,” or “Okay,” or just leave me on read.

I started getting annoyed.

> “Busy lately?”

He said, “Sorry, a lot going on.”

Going on with what? He never shared. Even when I tried talking about personal stuff, he changed the subject. It started to feel like I was chatting with a bot.

I started wondering… did he really enjoy talking to me, or was he just playing around?

One night, I sent a voice note. Just me saying, “Hey. Are you listening?”

But he didn’t reply. Didn’t even listen to it. Just ignored it.

I got upset. But still, I waited. Every time I opened my phone, I’d check DMs. Still hoping he’d reply.

And that night, he finally did.

> “Rena, I’m sorry. I don’t think I can keep chatting like before.”

> “I just wanted someone to talk to back then. Things are different now.”

I read the message over and over again. It felt like being left out of nowhere, when I didn’t even know who he was.

But I didn’t reply. I just stared at the screen for so long. And somehow, I couldn’t even be mad.

Because I realized… I lied to him too. I wasn’t honest about myself either.

But that didn’t mean I could just accept all this.

The next day at school, I couldn’t focus. Lala kept asking, but I just said, “I’m tired.”

That night, I opened IG. The @dark.boy.__ account was still there. But he changed his profile picture. Just some random image, not a person.

I hit unfollow.

But my heart still wondered.

Who is he, really?

And… was I the only one who got played?

To be continued…

Episode 3

Since that night, I never replied to @dark.boy.__’s DM. But that didn’t mean I could stop thinking about him. His words kept replaying in my head—annoying, confusing, but also… intriguing.

I kept wondering, who exactly was behind that account? How could someone send messages that felt so deep, only for it all to turn out fake? Did he think it was funny?

Eventually, I went full detective mode. I scrolled through all our DMs again, checked every caption, zoomed into his photos hoping to find some tiny clue. But nothing. That account was completely empty—like it was made just to mess with people.

Still, I didn’t give up.

Over the next few days, I spent more time glued to my phone. In class, I pretended to take notes while actually searching for names that might be linked to that account. Sometimes I’d try to guess which guys at school were bored enough to make such a fake account.

But while I was busy hunting for clues, the real world decided to hit harder.

“Hey, Filter Princess is passing by!”

I had just stepped into the hallway when that voice came from a group of girls nearby.

“Ren, is that really your face? I thought you used the ‘golden hour angel’ preset,” another one laughed out loud.

I pretended not to hear. But honestly, it felt like getting slapped again and again.

The day got even worse during break. I was buying a drink at the canteen when a guy from the class next door suddenly tapped me on the shoulder.

“Hey you, you look like a model on IG. But in real life… pretty unique, huh?”

I rushed away. Hands shaking, face burning.

I ended up sitting alone in the school garden. No Lala, no one else. Just me, my phone, and my completely messed-up thoughts.

I opened Instagram again. Scrolled. Looked at my old photos—the ones where I looked glowing. The ones that probably made people admire me. But now, all of them felt like weapons used to mock me.

And in the middle of that hopelessness, I sat on the farthest bench. It’s usually empty. But today, someone else was there too.

A guy.

He wasn’t very tall, wore a grey hoodie, cap pulled down just enough to cover his eyes. But I could see he was on his phone. I didn’t want to snoop, but when he scrolled… I caught a glimpse of the screen.

The Instagram logo. And… the account name.

@dark.boy.__

I held my breath. Too scared to move. My eyes widened, heart pounding like crazy.

Was he the one?

Slowly, I shifted my seat, pretending to open a book. But really, I was watching. He opened the account. Scrolled. Typed something. It looked like he was about to post a story.

I grabbed my phone, hands trembling. I wanted to get proof. I wanted to confront him. But before I could do anything...

“RENAAA!!” Tati’s voice echoed from a distance, making me jump.

I turned in panic. And when I looked beside me again...

He was gone.

The bench was empty. Only footprints left on the dirt.

I stood up, looked around. But he had disappeared.

I bit my lip. This time, I couldn’t fail.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll follow him. I’ll prove everything. I need to know who he really is—and why he made me feel happy… only to tear me down.

To be continued...