Mission Failed: I Stopped Loving Him

I failed the mission.

The Unit made it clear. I am going to be erased.

One month.

That is all I have left before the original owner reclaims this body.

So I stopped. No more chasing Silas. No more begging for scraps of his attention.

But of course, that is when he decided to notice me.

Silas stepped in front of me, blocking my way. His jaw was tight, his patience clearly wearing thin. "I only missed our date because I had to save her," he snapped. "Believe me or don't. It is up to you."

He thought I was sulking. He thought I was just acting out.

The crowd watching us whispered, waiting for my usual desperate reaction.

They didn't get it.

I honestly just didn't care.

It doesn't matter anymore.

Chapter 1

The staff warned me for the third time. The park was closing.

Inside my head, Unit let out a heavy sigh. "Go home, Kennedy. Silas isn't coming. He's with Hazel. He forgot about the amusement park. He forgot about you."

I stamped my feet, trying to shake off the dull, rhythmic ache. I gripped the ribbon of the cake box tight and turned around. "Okay."

The anticipation I felt this morning hadn't just faded. It was scraped out of me.

Hollowed out.

All that was left was a terrifying, flatline calm.

Even when Unit delivered my death sentence. "One month. You will be in a car accident. The penalty for a failed conquest. When your body is crushed and you drift into the dark, I will send you back to the real world. This vessel will return to the original owner."

Unit went silent. Disconnected.

I pulled out my phone to call a ride. The battery icon flashed red. Black screen. Dead.

Pockets empty. No cash.

I looked down the long stretch of asphalt and started walking.

I knew the mission was over. I accepted it. But the exhaustion wasn't just a thought. It was a physical weight. Lead in my veins. Suffocating.

Every step felt like dragging my body through deep water.

The route home passed the school. Saturday. The campus should have been a graveyard.

It wasn't.

Near the gate. The bench.

Two figures I knew better than my own reflection.

Hazel.

She was cupping a cheap, packaged snack cake in her hands. A single matchstick stuck out of the center like a sad candle. "I'm so sorry, Silas I just found out it was your birthday. I didn't have time to get a real cake. This is all I have. Please don't hate it"

Silas sat across from her. Fresh cuts on his jawline. A strip of white gauze wrapped around his forehead. Messy black hair fell over his eyes, half-hiding the bandage.

He had a lazy, boyish air about him.

Chapter 2

He didn't find the pathetic little snack funny. He didn't mock it. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver lighter.

Flick.

The flame danced to life, lighting the single matchstick sticking out of the sponge cake.

"No." He cupped his hand around the flame to protect it. "I think it's perfect."

His voice carried that familiar, arctic chill. But underneath the ice? A thread of warmth. A tone of coaxing I had never heard before.

It forced a memory to surface.

Last night. The school's home ec kitchen.

I was holding a cake. It took me several attempts to get it right, but I was finally satisfied. I presented it to him like an offering. "Do you like it?"

Silas leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He didn't look at the cake. His gaze dropped to my hands. Red. Blistered. Angry burns from the oven rack.

His lip curled. "Looking at your hands makes me lose my appetite."

I flinched. Embarrassment flooded my veins. I tried to tuck my hands into the long sleeves of my uniform, hiding the damage.

Silas's eyes darkened. He pushed off the doorframe. He closed the distance in two strides, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me out of the school. Straight to the nearest pharmacy.

"Stop hiding." He threw a box of burn ointment on the counter. "You burn yourself and don't treat it? Is your brain just for decoration?"

He looked furious. Impatience radiated off him in waves. But his hands told a different story.

He unscrewed the cap, squeezed the cool, clear gel onto his fingertip, and applied it to the blisters. The touch was feather-light. Careful. A steady anchor in the storm of his anger.

I felt the heat leave the skin, replaced by his cool, steady pressure. He treated my hand like it was something fragile. Something worth saving.

I gathered every ounce of courage I had left. "Silas do you like the cake?"

He didn't look up. His brow furrowed as he focused intently on my skin, making sure the coverage was even. "It's ugly as hell."

Unit tried to spin it back then. "Don't listen to him, Kennedy. He's lashing out because he's worried about your injury. He says one thing but means another. It's his way of caring."

Reality snapped back into place.

I stood across the street. Silent. Watching.

I watched him comfort Hazel in low tones. I watched him accept a cheap convenience store snack like it was a Michelin-star dessert.

The realization hit me.

Slow and heavy.

Even Silastwisted, difficult, sharp-edged Silascould be soft. When he actually liked someone, the thorns retracted. He protected their pride. He couldn't bear to see them disappointed.

I didn't know what Silas felt for me. But I knew what it wasn't.

It wasn't love.

I looked away. I turned to leave.

"Kennedy?"

Hazel's voice cut through the air. "What are you doing here?"

Silas whipped his head around. His eyes locked onto me. Then they slid down to the ribbon-wrapped box in my hand.

He froze.

A flicker of recognition. He just remembered. Today. The amusement park. Us.

Hazel followed his gaze. Saw the cake. The realization dawned on her face. "Oh. You're here for Silas, aren't you?"

She tilted her head, innocent. "I heard you were planning to celebrate his birthday at the park today." She pressed a hand to her chest. "I'm so sorry. Because of me, you got stood up."

The apology was thin. Paper-thin. Like she was used to Silas ditching me for her. Like it was the natural order of things.

And me? I was the doormat. I'd sulk for a day, then go right back to chasing him like a puppy with no self-respect.

I shook my head. "No."

I lied.

"I was just passing by."

Silas didn't blink. His jaw tightened. He looked tense.

Hazel just smiled.

Chapter 3

Obviously, she thought I was making a pathetic excuse to save face. She didn't even pretend to buy it.

"Well, since you brought the cake anyway" She reached out. "We can still celebrate."

I avoided her hand and shook my head. "It's spoiled. Inedible."

I pressed my lips together. "It's late. I'm going home. Bye."

Hazel blinked, stunned.

Usually, I was a barnacle. If there was a crack of space next to Silas, I wedged myself in. Now? I was actively clearing the room for them.

I walked a few steps. Stopped. Turning back, I looked straight at Hazel, ignoring the shadow standing next to her. "Can I borrow twenty bucks? My phone died. I can't call an Uber."

"I'll take you."

Silas.

His voice was a whip-crack. Fast. Tight.

I didn't flinch. I didn't turn my head. I didn't even pause.

It was like he didn't exist.

I kept my eyes locked on Hazel.

Hazel stammered, caught off guard. "Uh sure"

She dug into her purse and handed me a bill.

"Thanks. I'll pay you back Monday."

I took the cash. Turned my heel. Walked away.

I never looked at Silas. Not once.

Maybe it was because I knew the end was coming.

That night, I dreamed of the Before. The real world.

A school break.

I was hugging a paperback novel, sobbing my eyes out.

Tessa, my desk mate, looked at me like I was crazy. "Isn't that a rom-com?"

I hiccuped, wiping snot with my sleeve. "Not for the second male lead. Not for Silas. His life is a tragedy."

"He's loved Hazel since freshman year. But he's poor. He's insecure. Even when he becomes a billionaire in the finale, he never tells her. He just watches over her from the shadows."

"And the worst part? That rich witch, Kennedy. She bullies him relentlessly in high school."

Tessa handed me a tissue. "You know your name is Kennedy, right? And the villain's name is Kennedy?"

I slammed my hand on the desk. "It's an insult to the name."

That same night, I woke up inside the book. In the body of the person I hated most. Kennedy.

The System pinged:

Mission: Conquer Silas.

Timeline: Senior year.

Current Status: You are his worst nightmare.

Difficulty: SSS.

The System watched me jumping around the room, grinning like an idiot. It's hell mode. Why are you happy?

"Because I can change his backstory."

I flipped my hair, practically vibrating with energy. "I'm going to give him the best of everything. I'm never letting him suffer again."

Chapter 4

Unit never really believed in me. It said from the start: Just wait out the clock. I'll send you home.

I spent two years trying to thaw Silas. Two years of rewriting his trauma.

Toward the end, his affection stats were climbing. Unit actually thought we might pull off a miracle.

But we crashed and burned.

Honestly? I couldn't even blame Silas. His factory setting is "Love Hazel." Sacrificing everything for her? Putting her first? That's his code. It's not a glitch.

I only realized that recently.

Because I finally stopped liking him.

The rose-colored glasses didn't just crack; they shattered.

Yesterday's wind did its job. I woke up with a head full of cotton and a throat like sandpaper.

I popped a couple of Tylenol. Then my phone buzzed.

Tyler. Silas's shadow.

"Kennedy. Silas wants a do-over for the birthday thing. He's at the amusement park. The spot you guys picked. You coming?"

Silas didn't give a damn about birthdays. This was his version of an apology. He was compensating me for yesterday.

I sniffled, my voice thick with congestion. "You guys have fun. I'm going to the library."

Tyler pulled the phone away. I heard his muffled voice. "Silas, she says she's not coming."

A few seconds of silence. Then, a short, sharp laugh. Mocking.

"Suit herself."

It didn't sting. It was just expected.

Silas had zero patience. This was him "lowering himself" to offer a truce. My rejection was an insult to his ego.

I couldn't hold back a cough. It rattled in my chest.

Tyler heard it. "Whoa, Kennedy. You sick?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, then stay home. Rest up."

Right before he hung up, I heard him ask, "Hey, where's Silas? Where did he go?"

Someone answered, "Seems like he went to the pharmacy."

"What for? Didn't he just get his dressing changed?"

"Don't know."

I ended the call.

I didn't go to the library alone. I went with Davis.

Davis. The original Kennedy's childhood best friend. The guy who grew up in the mansion next door. He was the only person in this entire universe who knew my secret.

He figured it out a month after I arrived. He had cornered me, looking at me with those sharp, analytical eyes. "Stop lying. You can't fool me. Nobody knows Kennedy better than I do. And you? You're not her."

When I confessed about the mission, he didn't freak out. He was surprised for maybe five minutes. Then he just accepted it. Maybe because I still looked like his friend.

For two years, he covered for me. He was my anchor in this chaotic world.

On the walk to the library, I dropped the bomb. "Mission failed."

Davis didn't break stride. "So that means you're leaving in a month?"

"Yeah."

I tried to sound cheerful. "The real Kennedy will be back soon. You'll get your actual best friend back. No more imposter."

Davis's leather messenger bag tapped against his hip with a steady, rhythmic thud.

He smiled. But it didn't reach his eyes. His gaze was flat. Diluted.

He didn't say a word.

Chapter 5

We didn't leave the library until the lights flickered off.

Davis's mansion sat right next to mine. He stopped dead at his gate. His gaze was fixed on my front porch.

I followed his line of sight.

Silas.

He was a dark smear against the night, wrapped in a black windbreaker that made his pale skin look translucent. The cuts on his cheekbones and jawline were stark. Angry.

He looked volatile. Like a wire pulled until it snaps.

A white pharmacy bag hung from his hand.

I snapped back to reality. Turned to Davis. "You're home. Go inside. Bye."

He saw the tension. He felt it. But he respected the line I drew. He nodded. "Call me if you need anything."

Click.

Davis's front door closed.

Silas's eyes shifted. Slow. Predatory. He watched me walk up the driveway, gripping my backpack strap like a lifeline.

I stopped a safe distance away. "Do you need something?"

He ignored the question. His eyes narrowed. "I thought you were sick."

His voice was low. Scratchy. "You looked healthy enough laughing with him."

As if to refute his words, my throat tickled, and I couldn't help coughing twice. The mockery in Silas's eyes receded. Replaced by a flicker of something else.

I sniffled. "If that's all, I'm going inside."

I tried to step around him.

He stepped in front of me. Blocked. A wall of black nylon and cold air.

He was close. Too close. I could feel the chill radiating off his jacket. He must have been standing here for hours.

"Why are you running around with him when you're sick?"

It wasn't a question. It was an accusation.

He shoved the pharmacy bag into my arms. His expression was ice. "And about yesterday. I'm only going to say this once. Believe it or not."

Apologies weren't in his vocabulary. This was as close as he got.

"Hazel got cornered by a drunk. I had to step in. I forgot to text you. I let you wait. That's on me."

In the past, Silas wouldn't have bothered to explain. He would have let me rot in uncertainty. The fact that he was here, explaining, was a shock.

But that was it. Just a shock. No flutter. No hope.

I pushed the bag back against his chest. "Thanks."

I looked up at him. Cold. "But I can buy my own meds. I can't take this. And yesterday? Apology accepted."

I paused. "Anything else? I really need to go home."

Silas's lips pressed into a thin white line. His gaze locked onto mine. Searching. He was waiting for the crack. The tantrum. The tears.

What is wrong with you? his eyes asked silently.

I didn't give him an answer. I stepped around him. "Goodbye."

I walked into the house. Closed the door.

I went upstairs to my room and peered through the curtains.

He was still there. Frozen in the dark.

Then, a realization seemed to hit him. He let out a short, dark laugh.

He tossed the bag of medicine into the trash can by the curb.

He turned and walked away. No expression. No backward glance.

He finally got it.

I wasn't playing hard to get. I wasn't mad.

I was gone.

Chapter 6