The internet moved on faster than anyone thought it would.
For three days, Eliot's name was trending. Memes everywhere. Clips of the confrontation, re-edited like bad reality TV. Someone even set Rina's "Girls Who Love the Same Disaster Boy" line to a remix, and it charted on TikTok for a hot second.
Then the next scandal hit.And the views dropped.And the comments slowed.And life — weirdly, impossibly — kept going.
But for them? The people in that coffee shop? Things didn't reset. Not really. You don't come back from going viral with your feelings in HD and your heartbreak screen-recorded by strangers.
They each handled it differently.
Dahlia went quiet for a while. Started posting poetry again a month later, under a different username this time. The work was sharper. Stronger. And the people who followed didn't know her heartbreak by name, only by metaphor.
Rina got angrier before she got better. Started boxing again. Joined a rec league soccer team where she could kick something real for a change. Occasionally still liked posts on Eliot's account just to be petty, but less often now. Healing was weird like that.
Scarlett didn't cry, at least not where anyone could see. She pivoted. Became the face of a new fashion brand. The girl who survived "Main Charactergate" with flawless eyeliner and undefeated charisma. But sometimes, late at night, she'd catch herself scrolling through photos of that burger place parking lot, and she hated how much she missed something no one else ever saw.
And Zoe?
Zoe stayed.Not because Eliot chose her — but because she chose him back. Slowly. Carefully. No cinematic kisses on campus, no linked hands on Instagram. Just long walks, bad late-night pizza, soft apologies, and the kind of laughter that doesn't need an audience.
And Eliot?
He finally realized something:
He was never the main character because the internet said so.
He was the main character because he finally decided to show up for his own life.
Not perfect. Not heroic. Just real.
And sometimes? That was enough.