Love Is Like A Star, Showing Me the Way Forward

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.

Tears of pain fell from my cheeks.

"Now you know fear, stalking him, doing those petty thefts, weren't you scared then?" The square-faced woman slapped me twice.

She was strong, the pain spread from my face, I felt a ringing in my ears. Everything was dark, but I was forced to listen to her.

"I know you went to his house. Did you sneak into his bed, his bathtub, sniff his clothes? I've never been there, and you dare to?" She gritted her teeth fiercely and slapped me again. I shook my head frantically, struggling to bite her hand.

Her slaps kept landing on my head.

While resisting, I kept crying and explaining, "I'm not a fan, I'm his girlfriend."

But it was no use, another woman, who looked quite literary in her glasses, swore angrily.

"You're his girlfriend, and I'm his girlfriend too? You did what we couldn't do. You're really asking for it." She picked up an iron rod from the side and swung it at my face.

At the same time, the two feet on my hand were released. But I didn't have time to block it and took the hit.

A sticky liquid flowed down from my forehead, the taste of blood filled my mouth.

The pain made me stiffen.

But it seemed like I had lost sensation, I shook my head several times forcing myself to stay awake.

Then I tried to find my phone in my pocket, "I can prove that I'm his girlfriend, I'm not a fan, I have pictures."

But as soon as I touched it, before I could unlock it.

It was snatched by the square-faced woman and shattered into pieces.

"You're even more stubborn than us." She kicked me hard in the stomach.

The pain made me break out in a cold sweat instantly, I curled up clutching my stomach.

I didn't even have the strength to cry out anymore.

Perhaps it didn't matter whether I proved I was a fan or not.

Because they were simply crazy!!

"You love to write, don't you?" The woman in glasses looked at me sinisterly, then she and the square-faced woman exchanged a look.

They signaled to the burly men.

They dragged me up and forcefully pressed my right arm to the ground.

One of them picked up an iron rod from the ground and held it over my hand.

The woman in glasses laughed wildly, she asked me, "You love to write stories about Eli, what will you do if we ruin your hand?"

When I heard her words, the tension in my brain snapped, I completely broke down.

I screamed in despair, desperately twisting my body.

But how could it help?