Done Hiding as Your Backup Plaything I'm Shining Golden as a Queen - Chapter 129: Chapter 129

I closed my eyes, took a breath, and walked away.
The second Travis got off stage, my phone started buzzing. I blocked his number without hesitation and pulled on my backup dress—plain black, nothing special, but it would have to do.
When the spotlight hit me, I sat down at the piano and straightened my spine. I poured everything I had into "Your Name Engraved Herein"—every ounce of heartbreak, every shattered dream, every moment of betrayal.
The music flowed through me like a river breaking through a dam.
"Clap, clap, clap—"
The applause erupted from the audience, and when I turned around, I saw people wiping their eyes. My raw emotion had somehow reached them through the keys.
I smiled and took my bow.
The moment I stepped off stage, Travis came running over, trying to wrap me in a hug. "Gabby! That was incredible! You were amazing up there!"
I pushed him away, my voice ice cold. "Keep your distance, Russell."
He ruffled my hair like I was a child and handed me a shopping bag, wearing that familiar look of exasperated patience.
"Still mad, huh? You have no idea how much I've done for you tonight."
He kept talking like I hadn't spoken. "After your little allergic reaction drama got Camila fired from Murphy's, the poor girl was devastated. She'd been counting on that job to buy a dress for tonight."
"She was crying for days. So when your package arrived, I figured—why not let her borrow it for her performance, then she could change and give it back for yours? Win-win situation. Pretty clever, right?"
I ignored his self-congratulatory rambling and grabbed the bag, immediately checking inside.
The dress was destroyed. The hem was torn, beads scattered everywhere, delicate silk ripped beyond repair.
My hands shook as I held up the ruined fabric.
Travis saw it too, his voice shifting to panic mode. "Gabby, I... I had no idea this would happen. Camila didn't mean to—I'll buy you a new one, I promise..."
Tears burned my eyes as I exploded. "What do you mean 'she wears it first, then I wear it'?! Are you fucking insane?!"
"And get this straight—my mom made this dress. It's the only thing I have left of her. It's irreplaceable! What gives you the right to let that girl wear it? What could you possibly buy that would replace this?"
"Taking something without permission is stealing, Travis! How do you not understand that?!"
"You've disappointed me for the last time."
Suddenly Camila appeared out of nowhere and snatched the dress from my hands.
Her eyes filled with crocodile tears. "Gabby, please don't blame Travis. This is all my fault. Let me fix it for you, okay? I promise I'll make it good as new!"
My face went stone cold. "Give it back. Now."
Travis saw his opening and grabbed me in what probably looked like a romantic embrace to bystanders.
"Baby, just trust me one more time. I swear I'll get your dress fixed perfectly."
Camila caught Travis's subtle nod and ran off with my dress.
My vision went red with rage, but Travis leaned down and kissed the corner of my eye.
"I promise I'll return it exactly like it was. Don't be mad anymore."
The gesture that used to make my heart flutter now made my skin crawl.
When I got back to my dorm, there was an email waiting from the Business School:
Congratulations! You've been accepted into the Honors Program. Please report to the business campus after fall break.
For the first time in days, I could breathe again. I started packing immediately.
Three days later, Travis texted:
Gabby, got your dress fixed. Good as new! ?
Me: Fine. Where and when can I pick it up?
There's this place called Lovers' Peak about an hour outside the city. Meet me at the summit tomorrow and I'll give it back! ?
You have to come all the way up though—no shortcuts! ?
I didn't want to play his games, but that dress was my mother's final gift to me—made for my senior year piano competition, sewn with all her love and hopes for my future.
I couldn't let it go.
The next day I drove out to Lovers' Peak, but when I got to the base of the trail, only Camila was waiting.
I called Travis fifteen times. Straight to voicemail every single call.
Camila smirked and pulled out her phone, showing me a photo of Travis at the summit, setting up some elaborate display with balloons and pink ribbons tied to the trees.
"Stop calling. Travis is busy setting up my confession scene. He doesn't have time for your drama."
I realized I'd been played and turned to leave.
But Camila's voice stopped me cold: "Leaving so soon? That's fine—I was really looking forward to wearing your mom's dress when I accept his proposal anyway."
I whirled around and slapped her across the face. "You disgusting piece of shit."
She laughed like she'd won the lottery. "So what if I am? Travis still likes me best."
"If Travis sees this handprint on my face, what do you think he'll do to your precious dress? I heard it's pretty important to you."
Her threat was crystal clear. My hands shook with rage, but I couldn't risk it. I started running up the mountain trail.
Camila followed behind me, humming like she was on a pleasant hike.
Halfway up the trail, searing pain shot through my ankle. I looked down to see a rusty bear trap clamped around my foot, blood immediately soaking through my sneaker.
Camila sauntered over, not even pretending to be surprised. "Oops! How clumsy of you. Looks like you won't make it to the top after all. Guess I'll have to wear that dress instead."
I knew this was her doing. Every instinct screamed it. I could taste blood from biting my tongue to keep from screaming.
The pain made my vision blur as I fumbled for my phone to call for help.
Camila snatched it and hurled it down the mountainside. "Want to call for rescue? In your dreams."
I lunged for her, but she skipped away, laughing.
Lovers' Peak was in the middle of nowhere—barely anyone came up here, especially on weekdays.
I tried desperately to pry open the trap with my bare hands, but it was useless. The metal teeth had bitten deep.
I collapsed onto the dirt and started crawling down the trail one agonizing inch at a time.
The pain, the fear, the betrayal—everything came pouring out in broken sobs.
The sun climbed higher, and I could feel myself getting dehydrated and dizzy from heat stroke.
I slumped against a tree, genuinely wondering if I was going to die here alone.
My cries echoed off the empty mountainside.
Then a shadow fell across my face, and a deep voice said,
"Why is it that every time I see you, you're in some kind of trouble, little crybaby?"