Through the crack in the door, I saw Jimmy lounging casually against the hospital bed, swirling a glass of liquor in his hand. His cheeks were flushed, looking nothing like a sick man. A few rich, preppy guys surrounded him, their faces twisted in smug, disgusting grins.
I rubbed my eyes hard, convinced I must be seeing things.
"Man, Jimmy should’ve gone into acting," said one guy with bleached blond hair, clapping Jimmy on the shoulder. "She was totally fooled—selling her blood, even selling herself. Unreal!"
"Ha! You pulled it off for just $7,500? Hell, even that Tibetan mastiff you own cost more than that!" the blond guy laughed, slapping his thigh.
"Our boy Jimmy really went all in—pretending to be poor, pretending to be in love, pretending to be dying," another chimed in, laughing even harder.
"So, Jimmy, when are you dropping that video? She’s probably gonna throw herself off a building when it hits the net."
Jimmy glanced down at his phone and said nothing.
"Hey, don’t tell me you actually caught feelings for her?" someone nudged him, half-joking. "Don’t forget—if she hadn’t snatched Gina’s scholarship, Gina wouldn’t have been sent abroad by her family."