After hesitating for a long time, I still pressed the send button.
After saying goodbye to the old senior, I quietly turned around and left.
What I didn't know was that on this day, the novel I wrote based on Eli and me was exposed.
They had confirmed that the male lead in my novel was modeled after Eli.
And many timelines matched Eli's activities.
Things escalated, and I was exposed for frequently appearing at Eli's locations, stalking him.
The comment section of my novel was bombed by Eli's fans.
I was also labeled as a stalker fans.
The speed of the internet is truly astonishing.
Almost at the same time I found out about the news, I was dragged by my hair into an alley.
I was almost home, just a few hundred meters away.
The cold air in the alley made me shiver.
But I realized that what was more terrifying was the person in front of me.
My scalp was being pulled so hard that I felt a small bump forming at the root of my hair.
I gasped in pain.
I struggled to resist, pulling at my own hair.
But to them, this seemed like a silent provocation, triggering their desire to win.
"Ah!" The person pulling me suddenly exerted force and threw me off, I screamed.
I fell into the undried, smelly water.
The smell of mildew mixed with the stench of the stagnant water.
But I couldn't think about that now, I was desperately trying to get up.
But my hand was firmly stepped on by someone. He ground his teeth and asked me, "Erika, it's you, right?"
The newcomers were several burly men, exuding a strong societal vibe.
I tried to stay calm, staring at the man in front of me and counter-questioning, "What do you want?"
I looked around in fear and noticed that the instigators were two women next to them.
Finally, my gaze settled on the iron rods in their hands, and I was so scared that my back teeth chattered.
And these two women, I knew them.
They were Eli's real fans, both of them were quite extreme fan leaders.
They had even been jailed for a few days for doing some excessive things.
One of the women looked at me with disgust and then stepped on my other hand.
I didn't have the strength to scream anymore, I struggled to pull my hand out.
But the more I struggled, the harder she stepped.
The friction between my skin and the ground was burning, but she didn't let go even when bloodstains appeared on the ground.
Instead, she squatted down and pulled my hair. I was forced to look up at her, shaking badly.