Chapter 7: The Point of No Return

Lexie stood in front of her closet, her hand hovering over the hangers. The clothes she once loved—the conservative dresses, the cardigans, the jeans that hugged her in all the right ways—were gone. Wildcard4U had instructed her to throw them all away, to burn them or donate them to the nearest shelter.

“Only the provocative clothes from now on, Lexie,” the message had read. “You don’t need anything else. You’ll wear what I say, and nothing more. It’s time you accepted who you are.”

What she was now, Lexie could no longer deny. The clothes she had left were tight, revealing, and far from what she had once considered “appropriate.” She had no choice but to wear them, each outfit a further symbol of her fall. Tight skirts that barely covered her, shirts with deep plunging necklines, and tiny tank tops that left little to the imagination. They were the clothes of a woman who had lost her dignity, who had been reduced to something else—someone else’s toy.

As the days passed, she could feel the shift in how others saw her. Lexie had gone from the school’s “perfect” cheerleader to the girl everyone whispered about behind her back. Her reputation had cemented as the school slut, the girl willing to do anything for attention or validation. Every day, her inbox was flooded with text messages from random numbers—students wanting to hook up with her, to use her as a status symbol or simply for the thrill of conquest.

The worst part was that she couldn’t escape it. Even walking through the campus, she saw students whispering when she passed. Some of them even smiled at her like they knew exactly what she was now. A joke. A sad joke they could all laugh about.

Then came the bathroom stall.

She’d gone in after practice one night, wiping the sweat off her forehead, trying to collect herself for what was left of her day. As she stepped out of the stall, she saw the familiar scrawl on the wall.

“Call for a good time! 435-XXX-XXXX”

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and her stomach churned as she read the message from Wildcard4U.

Wildcard4U: “Looks like you’re popular now, huh? Maybe you should start charging. You could make a lot of money if you’re willing to play the part I’ve created for you. I think you owe me a cut, don’t you?”

Lexie’s heart sank as she realized what the message meant. Wildcard4U was no longer just controlling her actions. He was shaping her entire life, turning her into something unrecognizable. She was nothing more than an object to him now—a commodity, something to be used and discarded at will. And he was profiting from it.

Her body trembled, but she couldn’t make herself respond. She couldn’t stop the inevitable collapse that was happening around her.

Days passed, and Lexie sank lower and lower into despair. Her public humiliation was a constant ache in her chest, but nothing hit as hard as the message she received late one night from Wildcard4U.

Wildcard4U: “Jake’s been busy, Lexie. He’s been with someone else. I think you’ll want to see this.”