Chapter 3

Looking at Serena's cold, angry eyes, I walked out of the venue.

With Serena's testimony, the game now belonged to Tristan. It was no longer mine.

At least for now, in the eyes of the public, Tristan was the genius creator.

The committee wouldn't give the prize to me.

Only a court of law could clear my name.

But right now, this venue didn't belong to me anymore.

I was a senior. This was my last chance to participate in the Collegiate Game Awards.

I had made a bet with my family. If I could make a name for myself this time, they would support my gaming career.

If I failed, I would have to go back and run my family's multi-billion dollar tech empire. No arguments.

But Tristan was only a junior. He still had another year. He still had another chance.

If Serena had just come to me and asked nicely, I might have actually written a decent GDD for Tristan so he could find a good team next year.

But they said nothing. Instead, they threw all their garbage at me.

They stepped on my innocence and my dream to walk into that hall.

Soon, Tristan and Serena walked out of the building arm-in-arm, wearing smug smiles.

As I sat on the curb outside, I heard the announcer inside. My GDD had won first place.

In this tournament, when the graphics and music of college games were all mediocre, the GDD was the absolute key to winning.

Serena's voice was no longer cold. It was sweet and clingy as she spoke to Tristan:

"Tristan, you really are a genius! Your first GDD, and it’s a masterpiece!"

Tristan scratched his head and smirked. "I had a great mentor, Serena."

The sweetness of victory seemed to surround them as their faces drew closer and closer.

Just as they were about to kiss, I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up.

When Serena saw me, her romantic smile instantly vanished, replaced by an expression of pure disgust.

She didn't look at me like a boyfriend of three years. She looked at me like a mortal enemy.

I stared at them, my heart burning with anger.

"Serena, what is the meaning of this?"

"I am your boyfriend! He stole from me, not the other way around!"

"Why are you still defending him?"

"He's a gamer who sits in his room all day. He hasn't read a single book on game design. Ask him if he even knows what flow design or numerical balance means!"

I roared at them, but a part of me was still desperate.

I just wanted Serena to ask him a single question. Just ask him about the mechanics, the pacing, the balancing.

Any basic professional question would expose Tristan instantly.

But Serena would never give me what I wanted. She acted as if she didn't hear a word.

She just stared at me, her anger rising.

She said, word by word:

"I said, Tristan is a genius. He is the best!"

Looking at the furious Serena, pain washed over me like a tidal wave, slamming into my chest.

The pain was relentless.

I had always known she had a childhood friend named Tristan. Since the day I met her, his name was constantly on her lips.

I knew he was a sensitive topic, but I had still hoped.

I thought if I was good enough, she would eventually forget about him.

They were childhood sweethearts who promised to go to the same college.

But Tristan was addicted to games in high school, failed his exams, and had to repeat a year.

After Serena and I started dating, she told me she saw Tristan as a little brother and asked me to help him.

At the time, my friends warned me to stay away from her. But I was blinded by love.

The very next day, I made up an excuse to get $30,000 from my parents and used the money to pull strings to get Tristan, who had terrible grades, into our university's associate program.

I thought that would make Serena love me more.

But I was wrong. Ever since Tristan arrived, they were inseparable.

No matter what I did, I couldn't pull them apart.

When I was sick, she was with Tristan. When I got into trouble, she was with Tristan. On my birthday, she was with Tristan. Even when I tried to plan a romantic surprise for her, she was with Tristan.

I kept telling myself it was just a phase, that things would get better.

But time passed, and here we were, still stuck in the same nightmare.

I had treated her like a goddess. I felt honored that she chose to be with me. I did everything to make her happy, never arguing, never questioning.

But today, I had to ask.

I stared into her beautiful eyes and demanded:

"If you hate me so much, why are you even with me?"

"It’s either me or Tristan. Choose!"