Secrets left untold

December 30, 2024 | 8:00 PM The New Restaurant near St. James Town – Toronto, Ontario

Sophia checked her watch for the third time, her knee bouncing nervously under the table. She was waiting for the mysterious customer—the stranger who had slid a marriage contract into her life as if it were a business card. She had called him that morning, demanding a meeting to finalize terms, but she refused to do it alone. Rosalie sat beside her, a necessary witness to whatever madness was about to unfold.

"I think I got scammed," Sophia muttered to Rosalie, her tone thick with frustration as the minutes ticked by. "I shouldn’t have trusted him. He looked suspicious from the start—"

The bell above the door chimed, cutting her off. A man walked in, but he looked completely different from the disheveled figure she remembered. He wore an oversized black hoodie and baggy beige pants, with a beanie pulled back to reveal a glimpse of dark hair. He had also added a pair of glasses to the look.

"How can I help you?" Sophia asked, her voice flat. She stood up, ready to treat him like a regular walk-in, but he looked puzzled.

"You’re the one who called me!"

As soon as he spoke, Sophia recognized the voice. It was him—the "unique" customer.

"I thought you wouldn’t come." She tried to mask her relief, but a hint of cheerfulness betrayed her.

A tiny smile played on his lips as he sat down. "I had to deal with some stuff on my way," he explained. "Besides, I was surprised you even agreed to hear me out. I thought you were planning to kidnap me or something."

"You’re the kidnapper here, mister," Rosalie interjected sternly. Realizing he was technically a guest, she awkwardly cleared her throat. "I’ll... just go to the kitchen and get things ready."

"You look different," Sophia noted. Her eyes scanned him from head to toe, impressed by how well he cleaned up. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen him somewhere before.

"Ah, that day... I had just woken up and decided to visit the nearest restaurant. I didn't really care about my appearance," he replied with a sigh. "You probably have a lot of questions, and I’m not fully prepared to answer them all, but I’ll try my best. My name is Matthew. Matthew Rays." He smiled kindly, offering his hand.

"Sophia Warner." She forced a polite smile as she shook it. "Now tell me, what do you want from me? Not gonna lie, you seem like a scammer."

"Well, I get why you feel that way, but I’m definitely not. I know my offer was sudden and doesn't make much sense, but I can transfer the money right now—even before we sign the paperwork." He seemed sincere as he pulled his phone from his pocket, but Sophia stopped him.

"I need to know your reason," she insisted. "Why me? And why marry a stranger in the first place?"

“I hit rock bottom that day and you were literally the first woman in my line of sight. I came up with the marriage plan as soon as I saw you.” He looked embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head. As he lifted his arm, Sophia noticed an elegant, expensive watch on his wrist. He clearly wasn't poor; a man doesn't offer a hundred thousand dollars for a fake marriage unless he has deep pockets.

“What plan?” Sophia narrowed her eyes. He immediately waved his hands in denial, trying to prove his innocence.

“Well, it’s a bit complicated, but here is the summary.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. This close, she couldn't help but notice his charming brown eyes through his lenses. “My dad owns a business. In order to grow it, he wants to collaborate with a friend who owns another company.”

He used two water glasses to represent the two friends. “That friend has an only daughter, and he wants her to marry someone he knows personally.” He added his keys to the table to represent the daughter.

“Let me guess—the friend wants you to marry her?”

Matthew looked impressed, as if she were a world-class detective. “You’re close.” He pinched his thumb and index finger together. “He doesn’t care who she marries, but my dad does.” His tone flattened. “I have a younger brother. I’m twenty-six, and he’s twenty-one. Since I’m the eldest and my 'social status' is better, my dad chose me.”

“Social status? Anyway, why didn’t you just refuse?”

Matthew sighed dramatically. “As if I didn’t try. But I can’t win against my father. And the real reason I won’t marry her is because my brother is already dating her. My dad doesn't know, and my brother can’t tell him without making things... explosive.”

Sophia gasped. She hadn’t expected that particular plot twist.

“But still, marrying a stranger is dangerous. What if I’m a gold digger? You should’ve just enrolled in a master’s program or something to stay busy,” she suggested after a moment of silence.

Matthew’s posture stiffened for a split second before he slumped, holding his head in his hands. “I’m already doing my second degree. I made a deal with him years ago—an agreement that if I wanted to pursue Computer Science, I’d obey him in whatever he asked of me later.”

“You’re studying Computer Science?” Suddenly, Sophia’s mind flashed back to the person who had hacked her computer. He seemed too innocent to be the culprit, but the timing was odd.

“I’m about to graduate, just like my brother,” he added, nearly collapsing onto the table in despair.

“Hey, don’t die here, please.” She tapped his shoulder. He lifted his head, looking at her with a begging expression. “Fine. But just so you know, if you pull anything with this contract, I’m ending you.”

She threatened him with a sharp, strict tone. At that moment, Rosalie reappeared from the kitchen, her face a mask of shock.

“Six months,” Matthew pleaded. “Six months until my brother graduates so he can marry her or figure it out.”

Sophia rolled her eyes, while Rosalie stood frozen, unsure if she should intervene.

“But why do you need a physical contract?” Sophia asked as he pulled a document from his pocket. “I mean, you could’ve just lied and introduced me as your wife.”

“I’ve just told you a whole K-drama’s worth of backstory and you’re asking why I need the paper? Young lady... my father is like a detective. The moment I tell him I’m married, he’ll dig until he sees if the marriage is registered with the province or not.” He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Also, I don’t want you to get deeply involved. My life is messy; the contract keeps things professional.”

“Sophia, are you sure?” Rosalie finally asked, her voice small. Sophia simply nodded and signed the paper.

“After I register this, I’ll bring you the official certificate to keep,” Matthew said, his tone shifting back to something more business-like. He picked up his phone. “Send me your bank details. I’ll transfer the funds immediately.”

Sophia pulled out her own phone and messaged him the information. A moment after he hit ‘send’ on his device, Matthew’s phone began to vibrate. He glanced at the screen.

“I have to take this. It’s the bank,” he muttered, already standing up. “Wait here.”

He stepped out of the restaurant, the bell chiming behind him. Sophia watched through the window as he paced the sidewalk, speaking quickly into the phone.

A notification soon chimed on Sophia’s phone. Her banking app displayed a staggering $100,000 balance, marked as Pending Verification. Despite this life-changing figure on her screen, a heavy weight remained in her stomach. She looked at the empty chair where Matthew had been sitting, then back at the “pending” notification. The money was there, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something complicated was about to happen to both of them.

January 1st, 2025 | 2:00 PM Apartment 303, St. James Town – Toronto, Ontario

The air in Apartment 303 was heavy. Five Computer Science students had crowded into the living room—four men and one woman, Jennifer—to discuss their graduation project. The meeting had rapidly spiraled into a crisis, and as the dread in the room became palpable, Jennifer wondered how she’d become part of this particular disaster.

“So, let me get this straight,” Matthew said, his voice dropping into a forced, brittle calm. “You accidentally launched the model publicly?”

Aiden nodded, staring at his shoes.

“And an innocent person used it, only to end up with ransomware on their device?” Matthew continued, his composure fraying at the edges. Aiden nodded again, unable to look up. “You son of a—”

Matthew lunged, but Ethan caught him by the shoulders, pinning him back before he could swing.

“Matt, calm down! He said it was an accident,” Ethan pleaded, struggling to keep the peace.

“You’re the reason this happened, Matthew!” Aiden snapped back, his guilt turning into a defensive reflex. “As the group leader, it was your job to keep the program files on your device, not mine.”

The accusation was like pouring gasoline on a fire. “Are you actually blaming me?” Matthew’s voice rose to a harsh growl. “You’ve contributed nothing to this project. The least I could do was make you responsible for the file. Now you’re telling me it’s my fault for trusting a damn idiot like you?”

Aiden didn’t respond. His face settled into a mask of indifference that only made Matthew’s blood boil further.

“Guys, stop it,” Jennifer interjected. She was tired of the constant friction between the two, even though she knew Matthew was right. As usual, Aiden had dropped the ball. “Let’s just figure out how to fix this.”

Huffing in frustration, Matthew snatched Aiden’s laptop. He intended to remotely terminate the access to the victim’s device, but as the metadata loaded, he froze. The victim’s information was displayed clearly: it was Sophia Warner.

Panic and guilt swirled in his gut. If she ever found out, it would look like he had targeted her on purpose—a twisted tactic to force her into debt so she’d accept his marriage offer.

“Matt? Is everything alright?” Jennifer asked, her voice softening with concern.

“Fine,” he clipped out. He worked quickly, severing the connection and wiping the access logs. He shoved the laptop back at Aiden. “Just so you know, if you keep up this attitude, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Without another word, Matthew walked out of the apartment to get some air. Jennifer followed at a distance, sensing his volatility. She watched him from the shadows of the hallway as he stood in front of the building, aggressively scrolling through his phone to burn off the adrenaline.

Suddenly, a familiar laugh echoed from the lobby. Matthew looked up and saw Sophia. She wasn’t alone; she was walking with a man and a small child, looking radiant and relaxed.

“So, she’s taken,” Matthew murmured to himself, a bitter taste in his mouth. He felt a wave of inexplicable disgust—not at her, but at the situation. Why would a woman with a family even entertain a stranger’s proposal?

“He was so stupid, Jay,” Sophia’s voice carried clearly through the air. “I’ve never seen someone with that level of stupidity in my life.”

Matthew stiffened, trying to stay out of her line of sight. He felt a sting of resentment, certain she was mocking his earlier proposal.

“An idiot like him doesn’t deserve your time,” Jay added. “He’s full of himself and thinks money solves everything.”

Matthew’s jaw tightened. That confirmed it. He sighed deeply, ducking his head and walking briskly past them toward the dorm. Sophia didn't catch his face, but as he passed, a familiar scent stopped her mid-sentence. She frowned, shaking the thought away. Why would a man like him be here? It couldn't be.

“Screw you, Larry,” Sophia added, referring to a completely different person. “You and your father.”

Jay’s laughter trailed off as they walked on, both of them oblivious to the internal wreckage they had left in Matthew’s wake.

Back at the dorm, Matthew sank into the couch and stared blankly at the wall. A strange sense of betrayal took hold—a cold, heavy weight for a woman he barely knew, yet couldn't seem to purge from his mind.

Jennifer sat beside him, having followed him back into the apartment. To her, his brooding silence was a natural reaction to the day's disaster: Aiden’s incompetence and the suffocating pressure of their looming graduation. She had no idea the "crisis" had just become personal.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Jennifer said softly, trying to bridge the distance. “Mistakes happen. We’re all a bit impulsive lately—the pressure to graduate is getting to everyone.”

Matthew leaned his head back against the couch, eyes tracing the ceiling. He didn’t reply immediately; he needed a moment to untangle the knot of thoughts in his mind.

“I know. Don’t worry about it,” he finally said, forcing a small, tight smile. He wasn’t trying to be cold toward her, but his internal world was in total chaos. He closed his eyes, wondering if the marriage proposal had been a massive lapse in judgment. It was likely too late to retreat now; the paperwork had been filed, and he was simply waiting for the official certificate to process.

As he sank deeper into his thoughts, he felt a warm touch on his hand. He opened his eyes slightly, shifting his gaze to where Jennifer’s hand rested firmly over his.

“Hey,” he said, his voice laced with a subtle, judgmental edge.

Jennifer didn’t pull away. Instead, she locked eyes with him, her expression raw. “Why are you ignoring me, Matt? You know exactly how I feel about you, yet you choose to act like my feelings don't even exist.”

Her tone was thick with hurt. Matthew pulled his hand back sharply and sat up straight, creating a physical barrier between them.

“I’m not ignoring them. I clearly rejected you years ago, Jennifer,” he replied firmly. “Love isn’t something you can force someone into. Besides, this is neither the time nor the place to dig this up again.”

“But you never gave me a real reason!” she countered, her voice rising. “You aren’t dating anyone else. Why won’t you just give me a chance?”

Matthew took a deep, weary breath. “My reason is that I don’t feel that way about you. Why would I start a relationship just to end up hurting you later?”

The room went quiet for a beat before Jennifer spoke again, her voice dropping to a shameful whisper. “Is it because of what I did at the orientation?”

Matthew stiffened. He hadn’t wanted to revisit that memory, but her question forced the images back into his mind—the way she had overstepped his boundaries and the discomfort of that day. He stood up abruptly, his face hardening into a mask of cold authority.

“Why are you bringing that up now?” He didn’t wait for her to answer as he headed for the exit. “Your apology was accepted back then, Jennifer. But being together? That’s never going to happen.”

January 1st, 2025 | 7:00 PM Matthew’s House — Lawrence Park, Toronto, Ontario

Despite what Matthew often said about his family issues, he lived alone in a large house in the prestigious neighborhood of Lawrence Park. Based on his actual personality, he would have preferred a quiet apartment in a rural town, but because of his father’s demands and the proximity to his university, he was trapped in this high-end prison.

He stepped inside, his expression blank and drained. He had spent the last few hours killing time by wandering through grocery aisles, trying to delay his return to an empty house. After dropping the bags on the kitchen table and kicking off his shoes, he headed straight for the dressing room. The space was unnervingly organized, filled with rows of designer labels that felt more like costumes than clothes.

He sat in front of the mirror and stared at his reflection, feeling nothing but unease.

“Is this the life I fought for?” he muttered, a sarcastic laugh escaping his lips.

He wiped his hands clean, then reached up to remove his glasses and the brown contact lenses that masked his natural dark blue eyes. Next came the hat, followed by a cotton pad soaked in makeup remover. As he wiped away the heavy foundation used to hide two distinct moles on his cheek, the “Matthew” persona began to fade, replaced by the face the world knew as Ray Wong.

Matthew was his real name, but “Ray” was the brand. People often pointed out his uncanny resemblance to the famous actor, but he always brushed it off, citing minor differences in their features. It was the main reason he kept his hair hidden whenever possible—Ray Wong was famous for his long, flowing locks.

Matthew’s POV

It’s dark humor at its finest: my real face belongs to a person I never chose to be. Sometimes I wonder if I’m actually a brilliant actor or if I’ve simply lost my identity entirely. I don’t have time to overthink it, though. I’m always too busy. It’s ironic—I’m so occupied with being someone else that I don’t have a spare second to be sad about it.

Right on cue, my phone began to vibrate. It was the architect of my identity crisis: my father. Or, more accurately, the CEO of the production company that owns me.

My father chose this career for me when I was just a kid. It started because the company was hemorrhaging money and couldn’t afford a child actor for a major ad campaign. He volunteered me, gave me a stage name, and turned me into the face of the brand. He promised it was a one-time thing, but as the offers rolled in, his greed won out. He signed me up for project after project without ever asking if I wanted it. He even forced me into a Drama and Theatre major, even though my heart was in Computer Science.

I finally picked up the phone. His tone was already sharp, vibrating with a familiar, low-level threat.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve called you today?”

I did. I had ignored every single one of them. I almost ignored this one, too, but I knew if I didn’t answer, he’d show up at my front door.

“I was busy with my project group, so—”

“I don’t care about your stupid group or your degree,” he snapped. “We agreed that your little hobby wouldn’t interfere with your career.”

I tuned him out, letting the “blah, blah, blah” of his lecture wash over me. I’d been the scapegoat ever since my mom filed for divorce and moved back to China. It’s funny how I’m the “problem” child when my face is the only reason his business is still standing.

“Whatever,” I interrupted. “I don't want a lecture over the phone. Get to the point. What do you want?”

I was praying he wasn’t calling to book me for a late-night shoot. I just wanted to sleep.

“Have you already forgotten? Director David is waiting for an answer.”

Ah, Director David. And by extension, his daughter. Since I’m the company puppet, the plan was for me to marry into his family to secure a strategic alliance.

“I’m afraid I can’t be the one to accept that honor,” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m already married.”

There. I said it.

“Is this one of your jokes?” The silence on the other end was heavy, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. I realized I no longer cared.

“Nope.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Why didn’t you tell me something this important?”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and set it on the desk; he was shouting loud enough that I didn’t need to hold it.

“You didn’t ask,” I said, using the most annoying, nonchalant tone I could muster.

The line went dead. He’d hung up. I sat there in the silence of the massive house and started laughing like a complete idiot.

“I guess I’m screwed.”