The Price of Taming a Playboy

Mason Vance was an infamous player on campus. He was drop-dead gorgeous, insanely wealthy, and had courting down to a science. In less than two months, he had dated practically every type of girl at our university. The straight-A bookworms, the gorgeous campus queens, the sweet and gentle souls. I was the only one he spent two months chasing without ever catching. Everyone thought I would be the good girl to finally tame the bad boy. Only I knew the truth: he never actually loved me. So much so that much later, with bloodshot eyes and broken pride, he trapped me against a brick wall. "Elena, I really loved you. But you... you really don't have a heart, do you?" I looked up at him, my expression completely blank. "What do you mean?" Mason made waves the very day he arrived on campus as a freshman. Unfortunately, my first impression of him was terrible. My immediate thought was: Who does he think he is? He was insanely attractive, pulled decent grades, and came from an absurdly elite family. Even our academic advisor, who was notoriously ruthless and denied excused absences to everyone, treated him with sickening deference. Whenever they crossed paths, the advisor would plaster on a greasy smile. "If you ever need anything at all, Mason, just shoot me an email." What could Mason Vance possibly need? He didn't lack money, connections, or girlfriends. Everyone bent over backward to suck up to him. Everyone except me. Countless rumors circulated about why he suddenly set his sights on me. Some said he lost a bet. Others claimed it was because I was the campus legend - the untouchable, ice-cold valedictorian, the good girl who was completely out of reach - and he just wanted to drag me down from my pedestal. Others said it was precisely my unapproachable chill that made me the ultimate challenge. Whichever reason it was, I didn't care to investigate. I was far too busy. I had to maintain a 4.0 to keep my academic scholarship. I had to juggle part-time jobs to pay my tuition. And I had to rack up hours in student council and honor societies to boost my resume. Whenever I said I wasn't interested in Mason, nobody believed me. They thought I was acting aloof, playing hard to get. Whispers followed me everywhere: "Girl, that's Mason Vance. Stop playing games. Being with him means you could skip ten years of grinding." It was true. Marrying into the Vance family was a pipedream for half the girls on the East Coast. But I saw right through it. He had zero real feelings for me. Even if I caved, I would just end up being another checkmark on his long list of exes. Mason pursued me with theatrical, overwhelming aggression. I have no idea how he tracked down my address. Every Monday morning, as soon as I walked out of my crumbling, rundown apartment building, I would find him lingering by the curb. Mason usually had a private chauffeur to drive him around. For a long stretch, an ultra-luxury sports car I couldn't even name was perpetually parked at the mouth of our narrow, cracked alleyway. I quickly became the favorite gossip topic among my low-income neighbors. "Elena, sweetie, who's that guy? He looks filthy rich." Glancing at the tall, sharp silhouette leaning casually against the sleek hood, I said quietly, "No idea." "Elena, come on, I'm here to drive you to campus," he called out. I treated him like empty air and walked straight past. This went on for weeks. One afternoon, my elderly neighbor, Mr. Henderson, stopped me. "Elena, could you tell your friend to stop parking that massive car in the alley? I can't even get my delivery van through." They say if you can't beat someone, you can at least avoid them. Mason Vance proved that you couldn't even avoid him. When I told him to stop bringing his car, he showed up on a bicycle instead. An ultra-custom designer bike that probably cost more than my entire tuition. "What the hell do you actually want?" I demanded, my expression icy. "You already know," he said with an infuriating smirk. "Be my girlfriend." "Mason, I don't have time to play your games. Stop wasting your energy on me."Maybe my repeated rejections only triggered his competitive ego, because instead of backing off, he escalated. When I gave him the silent treatment, he mobilized every resource and social tie at his disposal. The very next day, our study group leader was suddenly replaced. I found myself inexplicably assigned extra tasks, stuck handling administrative duties that were never my responsibility. The following week, the student club president stepped down out of nowhere, and a mountain of extra paperwork landed squarely on my desk. Whenever these tasks were handed out, everyone else mysteriously vanished. Leaving only me and Mason. He knew exactly how to pull the strings. He knew how to trap me. Because I couldn't just walk away; I needed these club credentials to qualify for my grants. "Elena, you had top SAT scores. Why did you stay in town instead of going Ivy League?" While I was focused on crunching the club's budget spreadsheets, Mason sat beside me, propping his chin in his hand, watching me. I gave him a fleeting glance and stayed silent. I wasn't about to tell him that I had zero money, or that I had to take care of my elderly grandmother. Going out of state meant a flood of living expenses I could never afford. I had dreamed of going to a prestigious university out of state, but it was over three hundred miles away. I couldn't afford the constant train tickets back and forth. More importantly, if I left, no one would look after Grandma. Back then, she took me in against the wishes of her own relatives. She fed me, clothed me, and scrimped every penny to send me to college. I only had her, and in a very real sense, she only had me. Even now, in her seventies, she woke up at five every morning to run a small breakfast cart just to help scrape my tuition together. A guy born with a silver spoon like Mason could never understand a life like that. "If you ever need any help, you can just tell me, you know," he added softly when I didn't answer. If I didn't already know his reputation as a notorious playboy, I might have actually believed he cared. But survival didn't leave room for wishful thinking. I never took risks I couldn't afford. My background gave me zero margin for error. "I'm done with these. Hand them over to the advisor yourself. I have somewhere to be." "Where to? I'll come with you." "No need. Just submit the files." I was in my junior year and would be applying for jobs soon. An older student had advised me to get a comprehensive health screening early to rule out any underlying issues. Strangely, even though the clinic was packed that day, all my appointments went through with ridiculous speed. There were dozens of people waiting ahead of me, yet the nurses kept calling my name first. It didn't take long for me to figure out why. The moment I stepped out of the ultrasound room, I saw Mason leaning against the corridor wall. He was smiling at me playfully. "How did the checkup go?" Right. In this city, there was nothing the Vance family couldn't arrange with a single phone call. What was skipping a little line to them? For the first time in twenty years, I tasted the sweet convenience of privilege. My feelings were a tangled mess. I hadn't missed the annoyed muttering of the patients behind me. "We were here first! Why does she get called ahead of everyone?" Mason looked at me with eager anticipation, like a little boy waiting to be praised for doing a good deed. I had always despised that kind of nepotism, yet today, I was the one benefiting from it. At the end of the day, he had helped me.I forced out a stiff "Thank you." After getting my blood drawn, I felt dizzy. I hadn't eaten breakfast, and coupled with childhood malnutrition, my health had always been fragile. Mason walked over holding a warm cup of oatmeal. "Drink this first. I'll take you to get a real meal in a bit." He leaned in close, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, Elena? Are you moved yet?" I looked into his teasing eyes and said nothing. To be honest, a part of me was. It was the first time I had ever experienced how effortless life could be with someone powerful clearing the path. Over the next few days, I became the center of campus gossip wherever I went. "That's her, the law major. Mason Vance has been pursuing her for over a month and still hasn't closed the deal." "No way. That's Mason Vance! He's never chased any girl for more than a week. Is he actually falling for her?" "Totally! I think he's really down bad. Someone saw him waiting on her hand and foot at a private clinic the other day!" "Seriously? Elena looks so plain. What does Mason even see in her?" Sensing that my defenses had softened after the clinic incident, Mason doubled down on his efforts. Imported snacks, designer handbags, delicate jewelry - thanks to him, even my roommates got their hands on luxury treats. "Elena, are you really not going to say yes?" one of my roommates gushed. "I've never seen Mason treat a girl this well." No, I told myself. Every single gift he gave me, I returned completely unopened. I couldn't afford to accept them. Maybe if I worked myself to the bone, I could eventually buy a designer bag of my own. But the lifestyle attached to those labels? I could never afford that. The Vance family belonged to high society. We lived in two entirely different worlds. "Mason, stop sending me things. I don't use them, and I don't like them." Being rejected in front of so many people finally bruised his massive ego. For the first time since he started chasing me, he actually lost his temper. "Elena, you really don't know what's good for you, do you? I personally picked out every single one of those." He sneered, his tone sharp with condescension. "Tell me, do you really not want them, or are you just too terrified to take them?" Hearing his mocking edge didn't humiliate me, nor did it hurt. On the contrary, I breathed a massive sigh of relief. I had never planned on getting involved with him anyway. So I replied calmly, "You're right. I am terrified to take them. So please, leave me alone and stop bothering me." Mason let out a scoffing laugh. "Fine, Elena. You're definitely a challenge. But I'm not going to roll over and do what you want. I'm going to keep chasing you." After that day, Mason disappeared from my sight for a while. I was grateful for my own clear head. Dating wasn't on my radar. Working shifts and studying hard were what my reality was supposed to look like. The medical screening had cost nearly two hundred dollars, which severely depleted my living budget. With the long weekend coming up, I hunted for extra gigs well in advance. I landed a temporary server job at a busy family restaurant, making about fifteen dollars an hour. On the first day of the holiday weekend, the restaurant was completely packed. I navigated through the crowded dining room carrying heavy platters. Suddenly, a kid's rubber bouncy ball rolled under my shoe. I couldn't dodge in time and stepped right on it. My balance gave out, and the ceramic plates shattered all over the floor. Gasps echoed across the dining room. Another server had been walking right behind me carrying a massive metal pot of boiling soup. As I fell flat onto my back, that scalding soup was about to pour straight down onto me. Yet, the agonizing burn never came. A body lunged over me, shielding me completely. "Fuck!" It was Mason.My eyes went wide in pure shock. Before I could even process what happened, he groaned through gritted teeth, looking down at me. "Elena... are you hurt?" The boiling soup had cascaded over his broad back and splattered onto the floor, sending up clouds of white steam. Seeing him wincing in intense pain yet still prioritizing my safety, my eyes pricked with heat. Even in that state, Mason didn't miss a beat to tease me. "Elena... even after this, you're not going to be my girlfriend? You're breaking my heart." "Shut up," I snapped, my voice shaking. "We need to get you to the ER right now." At the urgent care clinic, the young nurse bandaged his burns while gossiping openly. "Why on earth would you turn down a boyfriend this handsome?" "Right?" Mason chimed in, flashing a pained, dramatic grin. "See, nurse? She's completely heartless." Having taken a hit to save my skin, Mason naturally had an unshakeable excuse to cling to me 24/7. "Elena, bring me a bagel and coffee tomorrow morning." "Elena, my arm hurts. I can't type up my assignment." "Elena, I need to use the restroom. You have to walk me there." It was endless. Predictably, campus rumors went into overdrive. Even my roommates cornered me in the dorm. "Elena, are you guys officially dating now?" "No, we're not." "Come on, you two are glued at the hip every single day." "It's not like that. He got burned because of me. Taking care of him is just my responsibility." They only registered the part where he got hurt saving me, instantly begging for all the dramatic details, but I dodged their questions with vague excuses. I was genuinely overwhelmed. With Mason recovering, I had to pick up the slack for club activities - even though he barely did any real work when he was healthy anyway. I overheard some classmates saying the campus dessert shop had just dropped a limited-edition soft-serve cone. Mason had always had a massive sweet tooth. Since I was heading past the shop anyway, I shot him a quick text: "Do you want ice cream?" "Yeah," he replied instantly. "Get two." While waiting in line, I noticed a couple of girls whispering and staring at me. It wasn't my imagination. The second I walked out the door holding the cones, a girl stepped directly in front of me, blocking the sidewalk. "So you're Mason's little girlfriend?" She wore heavy, dramatic eyeliner and a trendy streetwear set. I recognized her. She was an arts major who had been relentlessly pursuing Mason for months. I didn't want any unnecessary drama. So I answered calmly, "No, I'm not." "Not his girlfriend?" she sneered, crossing her arms. "Then why the hell have you two been acting like conjoined twins the past few days?" I didn't want to engage. I tried to sidestep her, but she lunged forward and grabbed my forearm. Before I could react, an icy splash of sticky iced tea hit my face, dripping down my jaw and soaking into my collar. "You had that coming. Do you know that because of you, Mason hasn't answered a single one of my Snapchats in weeks?" No matter how many times I told people the truth, nobody believed me. I wasn't the one clinging to Mason Vance; he was the one chasing me. "Molly, what the hell are you doing?" Mason's furious shout cut through the courtyard. An instant later, Molly was shoved roughly aside, stumbling back against an outdoor metal table. Mason stepped up, his expression terrified and gentle as he carefully used his sleeve to wipe the sticky juice from my face, pulling me firmly behind his back. "How many times do I have to tell you people?" he growled, his voice dangerously low. "Don't you ever lay a finger on what's mine. Are you deaf?" "Mason, I just don't get it!" Molly yelled back, her eyes rimmed with angry tears. "What does she have that I don't?" Mason glared at her with pure disdain. "None of your damn business." Then, he gripped my hand and pulled me away.After that public blowout, my name blew up on campus all over again. Everywhere I walked, eyes followed me. Whenever I had a quiet moment, I couldn't help but wonder: Mason, what are you really after? If this is just a game to you, pick someone else. I don't have the luxury to play along. Why have you spent all these months refusing to let me go? I originally assumed his interest would burn out in a week or two. But half the semester slipped by, and he was still hovering by my side, relentless as ever. I finally agreed to be his girlfriend on an ordinary Tuesday at noon. Classes let out at twelve, and the dining hall was a sea of people. I carried my tray around in circles, unable to find an open chair. Just as I was debating whether to box it up and head back to the dorm, Mason waved at me from across the room. "Elena! Over here!" He was beaming with pure enthusiasm. Even though he had already finished his own lunch, he had gone back to the premium hot bar, loaded a tray with expensive carved roast meats and imported vegetables, and dumped the entire thing onto my plate. Those were the dishes I never dared to order. The premium line charged by the ounce and added up fast; I usually stuck to the budget combo meal - cheap, filling, and bland. The atmosphere was completely mundane, but out of nowhere, an impulse seized me. I looked up and asked him flatly, "Mason, why have you spent so long chasing me?" Hearing such a blunt question caught him off guard. He let out a low, rakish chuckle, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Why do you think? Because I'm into you, obviously." He leaned in across the table. "After all this time... haven't you felt a single spark?" I looked at him for three seconds. "Okay. I'll go out with you." A triumphant grin broke across Mason's handsome face. "Elena, you are officially the hardest girl I've ever had to chase." Once we were official, Mason flaunted our relationship with zero restraint. And for a while, I genuinely felt loved. I desperately hoped it wasn't just my imagination playing tricks on me. Whenever it rained, he would show up at the library with an umbrella, wrapping his arm around my shoulder to walk me back. The compact umbrella was small, so he would deliberately tilt it over my head. By the time we reached my dorm, his outside shoulder would be completely soaked through. Whenever his schedule allowed, he would sit through my boring elective lectures with me. When I finished my grueling 800-meter fitness test, he was waiting at the finish line to catch me before I collapsed. When my period cramps were unbearable, he brought me warm ginger tea and heating pads. In crowded dining lines, he would pull me securely in front of him, shielding me from the shoving crowd. After class, he dragged me to the arcade to play claw machines. Growing up, I had never had the spare change for frivolous things like that. Standing beside the glowing machine, he nudged me with cocky charm. "Which plushie do you want? I'll get it for you." His words made me freeze. In my entire twenty-one years of life, no one had ever simply asked me what I wanted. Mason was actually terrible at the claw machine. He had zero technique, burning through fifty dollars only to finally snag a lopsided, hideous stuffed caterpillar. When I told him to stop, he stubbornly refused. The arcade attendant, thrilled by such a high-rolling customer, grinned at me. "Your boyfriend treats you like a queen. You're super lucky." I reached out and tugged his sleeve. "Mason, let's just go." He was in the heat of the moment, annoyed that he had wasted so much cash without winning a decent prize, so he ignored me. I immediately turned on my heel and walked away. He panicked, instantly abandoning the machine to sprint after me, grabbing my hand and falling into step beside me. A guy who had always been lazy and irresponsible started spending late nights with me in the library. Most of the time, I was buried in textbooks while he dozed off on his crossed arms, but he always walked me back to my dorm afterward. Under the shadow of the tall oak tree outside my dorm, we shared warm hugs and sweet, breathless kisses. Seeing how exhausted I was prepping for grad school entrance exams, he gently ruffled my hair one night. "Don't kill yourself over this. Even if you don't get in, who cares? I'll just take care of you for the rest of your life." He knew how hard I was studying for the exams. Words like that, whether real or empty promises, were impossible for any girl in my shoes not to fall for. For a moment, everyone on campus believed the notorious playboy had finally hung up his jersey. Mason Vance, the heir who had rotated through countless beauties, was actually settling down with an unremarkable orphan. Even I caught myself marveling at how surreal it all felt, allowing myself to briefly sink into the warmth. Yet deep down, I never knew how long his affection would last. What he felt wasn't even necessarily love. More accurately, it was just intense passion. When I submitted my initial college applications years ago, my sole priority had been staying near Grandma, so I strictly chose local state schools where I could commute home on weekends. Though I hated to think about it, Grandma wouldn't be around forever. Eventually, I would have to walk this road alone. The job market was brutal, and credential inflation was terrifying. A basic bachelor's degree barely opened any doors. I needed to fight for my own future. I had to be ready for the day when I would have to survive entirely on my own, with no safety net. Mason had originally joined the student club solely because of me. Recently, though, I noticed he was getting awfully close to an upperclassman in the club. Whenever she spoke to him, her eyes sparkled with blatant flirtation. When Mason picked up an iced latte for me, he started bringing one for her, too. We were all adults. Nobody was blind to what was happening.