Campus Belle’s Stolen Videos - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
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My stomach twisted as I kept scrolling through the messages.
Martin: Still striking out?
Reginald: Like a rookie batter. Won't even let me get to first base. No clue what her game is.
Martin: Total hypocrite. Mine's practically eating out of my hand.
Reginald: This dry spell's killing me. Let me borrow your plaything sometime.
Martin: Anytime, bro.
I gripped my phone tighter. Jessica was just some shared conquest to them?
Martin: Quarantine's almost up. We really letting her walk away clean?
Reginald: Hell no. These sorority types live and die by their rep. Slap "campus mattress" on her and she'll beg us to take her back.
Martin: Genius!
The screen went dark, but my rage burned brighter.
So Reginald's bruised ego couldn't handle rejection. Now he and Martin wanted to drag Jessica and me through the mud to force our compliance.
For the first time, I felt proud of that knee to his groin last semester.
As for those human dumpster fires? Their reckoning was coming.
I assembled a digital war chest—screenshots, timestamps, voice memos—and nuked it to the Dean's office under my real name. The cover email read like a legal brief: "Act within 48 hours or I escalate to law enforcement."
Then I weaponized their own playbook. The campus forum lit up with my meticulously sourced exposé.
The detonation was instant.
Comments poured in by the hundreds—former trolls now leading the charge with pitchforks. By lunchtime, #PredatorPrey trended statewide.
The administration, smelling liability, moved faster than a frat boy at last call.
Sunset brought the sweetest email of my life: "Effective immediately, Reginald Whitmore and Martin Cho have been expelled."
My DMs became an avalanche of solidarity—sisterhood notes from survivors, apology cupcakes from reformed gossipers, even a professor's offer to chair my grad school recommendation committee.
I'd debated staying anonymous—avoiding the inevitable "she's just bitter" backlash.
But when that official notice dropped with my name in the "complainant" field? That's when I finally slept through the night.
Martin: Still striking out?
Reginald: Like a rookie batter. Won't even let me get to first base. No clue what her game is.
Martin: Total hypocrite. Mine's practically eating out of my hand.
Reginald: This dry spell's killing me. Let me borrow your plaything sometime.
Martin: Anytime, bro.
I gripped my phone tighter. Jessica was just some shared conquest to them?
Martin: Quarantine's almost up. We really letting her walk away clean?
Reginald: Hell no. These sorority types live and die by their rep. Slap "campus mattress" on her and she'll beg us to take her back.
Martin: Genius!
The screen went dark, but my rage burned brighter.
So Reginald's bruised ego couldn't handle rejection. Now he and Martin wanted to drag Jessica and me through the mud to force our compliance.
For the first time, I felt proud of that knee to his groin last semester.
As for those human dumpster fires? Their reckoning was coming.
I assembled a digital war chest—screenshots, timestamps, voice memos—and nuked it to the Dean's office under my real name. The cover email read like a legal brief: "Act within 48 hours or I escalate to law enforcement."
Then I weaponized their own playbook. The campus forum lit up with my meticulously sourced exposé.
The detonation was instant.
Comments poured in by the hundreds—former trolls now leading the charge with pitchforks. By lunchtime, #PredatorPrey trended statewide.
The administration, smelling liability, moved faster than a frat boy at last call.
Sunset brought the sweetest email of my life: "Effective immediately, Reginald Whitmore and Martin Cho have been expelled."
My DMs became an avalanche of solidarity—sisterhood notes from survivors, apology cupcakes from reformed gossipers, even a professor's offer to chair my grad school recommendation committee.
I'd debated staying anonymous—avoiding the inevitable "she's just bitter" backlash.
But when that official notice dropped with my name in the "complainant" field? That's when I finally slept through the night.
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