Chapter 3

Ethan' s comment was direct and to the point. He posted it right under Brittany' s dramatic story.

"This is not what happened. You came to my table after your credit card was declined and demanded that I pay for your lunch. I politely refused. I was not staring at you, I was reading an article on my phone. I never raised my voice or acted aggressively. You are misrepresenting our entire interaction."

He hit "send" and felt a small sense of relief. The truth was out there now, at least his version of it.

It didn't take long for Brittany to respond directly to his comment. Her reply was dripping with condescending amusement.

"LOL, oh my god, he' s even creepier than I thought! Now he' s making up this crazy story about me asking him for money? Desperate much? You were staring, and you know it. Just admit you' re a creep and apologize."

The public forum of the comments section immediately became a battlefield. A few people started to question Brittany' s narrative.

"Wait, so he says you asked him for money? Is that true?" one person commented.

Another added, "I don't know, this is starting to sound like a 'he said, she said' thing. Maybe we should hear both sides."

But many more rushed to her defense, attacking Ethan.

"Don't listen to him, Brittany! He's just trying to gaslight you!"

"Typical male behavior. When they get called out, they lie and try to blame the victim."

Ethan felt his stomach clench. He refreshed the page again and again, watching the debate unfold. He decided to make one more statement, to be as clear as possible. He didn't reply to Brittany directly this time, but posted a new, separate comment.

"To be perfectly clear for everyone reading this:

1. I did not harass, stare at, or intimidate this person.

2. She demanded I pay for her food.

3. I refused.

4. She became angry and left.

5. Her post is a false accusation.

I will not be commenting on this further."

He hoped his clear, logical points would cut through the drama. For a moment, it seemed to work. More people started expressing skepticism about Brittany' s story. The tone of the comments began to shift slightly.

Then, Brittany posted again. This time, it wasn't a comment, but a new post on her own social media page, which she then linked to the campus group. It was a short video of her, tears welling in her eyes.

"I can't believe I'm being attacked for sharing my story," she said, her voice trembling. "This is why women are afraid to speak up. Because men like Ethan and his friends will do anything to silence them. It wasn't about the money. Even if he had offered to pay for my lunch, a real gentleman would have insisted. It's about respect. Men should know their place is to provide for and protect women. His refusal to do even a simple, kind thing like buying my lunch shows his aggressive and entitled nature. He thinks he's better than me."

The video was a masterpiece of manipulation, but her last few sentences were a step too far for many. The comment section under her new video took a wild turn.

"Hold on a minute," the top comment read. "Did she just say men's place is to 'provide for' women and that he should have insisted on paying? What century is this?"

"So you're admitting it was about him not buying you lunch?" another person wrote. "You lied in your first post. You said he was harassing you, not that he just refused to pay for your salad."

"This is absurd. You tried to shame a guy into buying your food, he said no, and now you're trying to ruin his life over it? You're the one who sounds entitled."

"Wow. Just wow. You're giving actual victims of harassment a bad name. This is disgusting."

The tide had turned, and it was turning against her with a vengeance. People were calling her out for her twisted logic and blatant lies. Ethan felt a surge of vindication. People were seeing through her. It was a small victory, but it felt huge. The truth was coming out.

He checked the time. 9:45 AM. He had fifteen minutes until his meeting with Professor Davies. He took a deep breath, grabbed his backpack, and walked out of his room, feeling slightly more prepared for the battle that lay ahead.