When the Smiles Faded

In my previous life, my boyfriend's female best friend, Yvette Larson, decided to play a cruel prank on the firefighters with a few of her friends. They deliberately set off the fire alarm in our apartment complex and filled one of the rooms with smoke. "When the fire trucks get here, we'll hide and film them scrambling around trying to rescue everyone. This is going to go viral!" I did everything I could to stop them. I warned Yvette that they were wasting emergency resources and could even cause a stampede. However, she called me a buzzkill, and my boyfriend accused me of sticking my nose where it did not belong. Hence, I secretly called the property management office and tipped them off. Yvette's prank was exposed, and she became the laughingstock of the entire apartment complex. Unable to bear the humiliation, she eventually jumped from the building and died. Her family and my boyfriend blamed me for everything. They called me the murderer who had driven her to her death. Under the constant harassment and pressure, I fell into depression. In the end, my boyfriend pushed me off the rooftop. When I opened my eyes again, I had gone back to the beginning. Yvette was in the group chat, excitedly laying out her prank plan, while everyone else eagerly chimed in. This time, I said nothing. I wanted to see how much they would still be laughing when the fire trucks actually pulled up outside. Chapter 1 Yvette Larson's profile picture was practically vibrating in the group chat. She had dropped a three-page document into the chat titled 'Prank Plan'. Even through the text, I could hear the barely contained excitement in her voice. "I bought two stage smoke bombs. We'll set one off in the main bedroom and one in the living room at the same time. In five minutes, smoke will be pouring out through the cracks under the doors, and every smoke alarm on the floor will go off! "Once the fire alarm starts screaming, everyone in the building will run outside. "Then when the fire trucks show up, we hide in the stairwell, set up our cameras, and film the firefighters breaking down the door and searching the apartment. This is going to go viral. Guaranteed!" The chat stayed quiet for less than three seconds. Then it exploded. [Holy crap, Yvette. You're a genius.] [My mom used to work in stage lighting. I'll steal two smoke bombs tomorrow and keep them ready.] [We have to get a close-up when the firefighters break the door down! Their helmet lights cutting through the smoke? The atmosphere will be insane.] [I already have the headline, 'Graduates Prank Firefighters, First-Ever Reverse-Prank Documentary on the Internet.'] Shane Zeller sent a voice message, his voice full of its usual swagger. "Let's do it at three in the morning. Everyone will be asleep. The second the alarm goes off, the whole building will come running out. It's gonna be spectacular." Yvette immediately tagged everyone in the group. [3:00 am tonight. Nobody is allowed to be late. I'm serious. Anyone who backs out at the last second is a coward.] A whole row of replies appeared. [Got it.] Then she tagged me separately: [@Janet, you're Shane's girlfriend, so you're basically one of us. You're on lookout duty downstairs. If any neighbors wake up early, you can handle them.] Then she sent another message: [If you're willing to be on camera, I'll put down both our names as the prank leaders.] In my previous life, my first reaction had been to talk them out of it. I told them they were wasting emergency resources and could cause a stampede. Yvette called me a buzzkill. Shane accused me of sticking my nose into things that were not my business. I still refused to give up. I secretly called the building management and warned them. They rushed over and stopped the whole stunt before it could get any worse. Yvette's video was ruined, and the entire apartment complex became a chorus of laughter at her expense. Unable to bear the humiliation, she eventually climbed to the roof and jumped. Afterward, Shane and his friends turned their grief and anger on me, insisting that I was the reason Yvette was dead. Their hatred followed me all the way to the roof, where, in the end, Shane pushed me over the edge too. When I opened my eyes again, I was sitting on my bed. My phone was still in my hand. Messages were still popping up in the group chat. This time, I typed three words into the text box: [I'm not participating.] The group chat froze for three seconds, then Yvette's voice message appeared. The excitement in her voice had dropped straight into disbelief. "Janet, what do you mean? Everyone's having such a great time, and you show up just to kill the mood?" The messages started flooding in. [Wait, is Janet actually scared?] [Janet, smoke bombs aren't illegal. What are you so afraid of?] [Some people just aren't good at having fun. Don't force her.] [She wasn't like this before. Why is she suddenly such a buzzkill?] Shane did not say anything in the group. Instead, he messaged me privately: [Janet, don't start this. Yvette and I have been friends since high school. She just wants to do one thing before graduation that everyone will remember. Don't embarrass her in front of everyone, okay?] I did not answer. A minute later, his messages took on a cold, distant edge. [You really aren't joining? What are people going to think of me?] [My own girlfriend won't even show up to support me. How am I supposed to face my friends?] I stared at the messages. A wave of disgust rose from the pit of my stomach. He had done the exact same thing in my previous life. First, he tried to sweet-talk me. Then, he turned cold. Little by little, he pushed me until giving in seemed easier than fighting back. After I made that call to building management, he was the first person to confront me. He did not say, "You did the right thing." He said, "Do you have any idea that you just destroyed Yvette?" I did not reply. Instead, I tapped the record button and carefully scrolled through the chat, capturing the entire conversation history, every timestamp, and everyone's profile picture. I made sure to record everything clearly, leaving no detail behind. This time, I was not playing their game. Chapter 2 Yvette posted her prank announcement on a public social media account. At 10:30 that night, I came across the post while scrolling. The caption read: [The internet's first firefighter prank video. Tonight at 7:00. Don't miss it. Everyone involved is already in position.] The photos showed a full view of the equipment they had set up inside the apartment, along with a photoshopped 'cast and crew' list. Everyone's name was there, along with their assigned role. My name, Janet Chapman, was listed under: [Special thanks: location coordination] The comments were already blowing up. [Seriously? Aren't you guys afraid this could get out of hand? You could even get arrested!] Yvette replied almost instantly: [Come on, we're just having fun. Besides, maybe the firefighters will think it's funny too.] [Where exactly is this happening? I want to come watch the livestream.] One of our friends who had grown up with us posted the apartment complex and building location without a second thought: [Near Kensington Road. If you want to come watch the chaos, find your own way here.] [Isn't this going too far? You're messing with emergency services…] Yoel Harris jumped in to defend themselves: [We're graduating soon. We're not little kids and we know where the line is. And besides, we're helping the firefighters make content. Free publicity for a good cause. Get it?] My eyes locked on the screenshot of the 'cast and crew' list. Janet Chapman. Yet I had not taken part in a single part of the planning. I took a screenshot of every post, every photo, and every interaction in the comments. Then I saved everything into a folder labeled 'Evidence'. After that, I called the apartment management office. "Hi. Someone is planning to set off stage smoke bombs inside the apartment around three this morning to trigger the fire alarm as a prank on the firefighters." The property manager on duty sounded completely unconcerned. "Oh, you mean that? Ms. Larson already told me about it this afternoon. She said they were filming a short video and just wanted to trigger the hallway smoke detectors. The smoke bombs don't produce actual flames, so there's no risk of a real fire." I frowned. "She told you about it, and you approved it? Do you understand that triggering a fire alarm means evacuating the entire building?" His lazy tone immediately turned irritated. "Oh, come on. You young people just like fooling around. There isn't a real fire. Once the firefighters get here, they'll take one look and know what's going on." Then his tone shifted. There was something almost mocking in his voice. "I heard from Ms. Larson that you had a fight with your boyfriend? You two are having relationship problems. Can you please leave the property management office out of it? We're busy enough as it is." He emphasized the words 'relationship problems' like he was enjoying himself. I closed my eyes for a moment. Then, I looked at my phone, which was still recording. My voice turned icy. "So, you're saying that you know someone is deliberately triggering the fire alarm in this apartment complex, and as the manager on duty, you're choosing not to intervene, report it, or stop it?" "Hey, young lady, watch your tone…" "Okay. I understand." I hung up and saved the recording. My second call was to the fire department's public information line. The operator sounded much more serious. She carefully recorded everything I told her: the address, the estimated time, the number of people involved, and the items they planned to use. In the end, she advised me to preserve my evidence and stay away from the scene. She also said she would pass the information along to the local fire station. "If the situation actually gets out of control, call 911 immediately. However, please don't call repeatedly just to check whether anything has happened, and don't tie up an emergency line." "Understood. Thank you." Two phone calls, and I had recorded both from start to finish. In my previous life, I had done everything I could to get the property management office involved. This time, I was only collecting evidence. When I was done, I turned off the lights and sat alone in the darkness. The group chat started buzzing again. Shane tagged me: [@Janet, you don't want to participate, whatever. But you actually reported us to management?] The chat erupted instantly. [Janet, seriously? Was that necessary?] [Yvette just wanted a graduation memory. How can Janet be so cruel?] [She's too scared to join in, so now she wants to ruin it for everyone else.] I stared at those messages. Little by little, my chest grew colder. A moment later, Yvette sent a voice message. She was crying so hard that she could barely catch her breath. "Janet, what did I ever do to you? Why do you have to target me like this? I just want to give everyone a special memory before graduation. Why do you wanna ruin it? "I stayed up for several nights working on this plan. I already paid for the equipment rental, and I spent money on the promotion too. And now, just because you reported us, everything we worked on is wasted!" The group immediately filled with messages comforting her. [Yvette, don't cry. You didn't do anything wrong. We're with you!] The final message in the group came from Shane. [No matter what happens, we're going ahead at 3:00 am. Anyone who wants to come, come. Anyone who doesn't, don't bother showing your face around us again.] Seven people replied in a neat row. [Got it.] I did not reply. I turned off my phone. Outside my window, the city sat silent beneath the darkness. In three hours, the fire alarm in this building would scream into the night. This time, I was only going to watch. Chapter 3 At midnight, my phone suddenly buzzed. It was a message from Larisse Payne, the neighbor next door. [Janet, what are you guys doing over there? I keep hearing banging and clattering. My kids have school tomorrow.] I typed back: [Larisse, it's not me making all that noise. A group of people is planning a prank livestream in the apartment tonight. They might trigger the fire alarm. Please lock your door tonight, and don't panic if you hear anything.] Larisse immediately sent three question marks and replied: [What kind of prank? Trigger the fire alarm? Are you young people completely crazy? Mrs. Brooks upstairs is 80 years old and lives alone. She has a heart condition too. Did any of you even think about other people before pulling something like this?] My fingers froze above the screen. Melanie Brooks. She lived alone on the eighth floor. All three of her sons lived out of town. A scene from my previous life slammed into my mind. After the fire alarm went off, Melanie was so terrified that she fell down the stairs. She spent the entire night in the hospital fighting for her life. I was there that night, desperately trying to keep people from rushing down the stairs, but no one listened. In the end, management announced that I was the one who had made the call. Yvette became the laughingstock of the whole building. However, not a single person mentioned Melanie getting hurt. I grabbed a jacket and rushed out. The night wind hit me the second I stepped outside. The elevator stopped on the eighth floor, and I knocked on Melanie's door. She opened it wearing an old sweater. When she saw me, a smile spread across her face. "Janet? What brings you here so late?" "Mrs. Brooks, there's going to be a fire drill in the building around 3:00 am later. Please don't be scared. If you hear the alarm, don't rush downstairs. Just lock your door and stay inside." "A fire drill? Oh, okay, okay. I understand." I added quickly, "No matter how loud it gets outside, please don't panic. I'll come check on you tomorrow morning." She smiled and nodded, then gently patted the back of my hand. Her palm was thin and warm. It reminded me so much of my grandmother. Once I knew Melanie was settled, I headed back toward the apartment. Several lights were already on downstairs. The door to the apartment Yvette had rented was wide open. Voices filled the place, and I could smell the sharp, sulfurous stink of the smoke bombs all the way from the hallway. Yvette turned around and saw me. A slow smile spread across her face, but there was no surprise in it. Instead, she looked almost satisfied. It was the kind of smile worn by someone who had just gotten exactly what she wanted. "I knew you wouldn't let me down." She held out a walkie-talkie. "You're in charge of watching the hallway. If any neighbors come out, calm them down." I did not take it. The plastic casing of the walkie-talkie caught the cold light in her hand. I reached into my bag and pulled out two printed statements. The paper made a soft rustling sound as I unfolded it. It read: [I, Janet Chapman, will not participate in any activity involving the creation of smoke, the triggering of a fire alarm, or the filming of prank videos.] I had already signed both copies and stamped my fingerprint. I placed one on the table in front of Yvette. Then, I walked outside and taped the other one to the bulletin board. The entire room went silent for a moment before it exploded. Shane slammed the roll of tape in his hand onto the floor. "Janet, what the hell is this? You think we're in a courtroom?" Yoel leaned over to read the statement and let out a harsh laugh. "Seriously? Is this necessary? You're making it sound like we're committing a crime." Yvette's eyes turned red. She snatched the statement off the table. Without even reading it, she crumpled it into a ball and threw it hard onto the floor. The paper rolled twice before stopping right in front of my shoes. When Yvette spoke, her voice was low and trembling with hurt. "Janet, I've included you in everything since high school. Parties, trips, videos. I've always saved you a spot. And this is how you embarrass me in front of everyone?" I bent down, picked up the crumpled paper, smoothed it flat, folded it neatly, and put it back in my bag. "I just don't want to participate." Yvette raised her phone and pointed the camera at me. The livestream was already running. "Hey, everyone. We've got a little situation. The Ms. Chapman listed on our cast and crew sheet just showed up and posted a statement saying she won't participate because she's afraid something might happen." The comments started flying across the screen. [Her again?] [She was the first one rushing in when she thought she could get attention. Now that something might go wrong, she's pretending she has nothing to do with it?] [She's so fake.] Yvette wiped the corner of her eye for the camera. The movement was exactly the same as in the voice message she had sent earlier, right down to the little sob. "It's okay. Everyone, let's keep going. We're not changing our plans because of one person. She's probably just nervous, so don't attack her." Shane stood up and walked over to Yvette. Right in front of the camera, he put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her closer. The movement was so natural, so practiced. Then he looked at me. "You're standing here tonight. Either take the walkie-talkie and do your job, or hold up your phone and film me the whole time. Your choice." I stared at the hand resting on Yvette's shoulder. It was the same hand that had pushed me off the roof in my previous life. A smile suddenly spread across my face. "Okay. I'll stand right here." Chapter 4 Shane let out a mocking laugh and pulled his hand off Yvette's shoulder. He gave me a thumbs-up, his eyes filled with undisguised contempt. "Fine. Stand over there and keep your eyes wide open. You'll see what being young is all about." Yoel chuckled behind him. "She just wants to act all high and mighty. Once the video goes viral, don't let her come crawling back to steal the spotlight." Yvette wiped away her tears. Her expression had already returned to the excitement she had shown before, as if the person who had just crumpled up the statement and thrown it on the floor had not been her. I took two steps toward the corner when someone suddenly grabbed my wrist. It was Shane. He dragged me into a small storage room nearby, then slammed the door shut behind us. "You're staying here." He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, lifting his chin at me. "Don't even think about sneaking out to warn anyone. You can't stop tonight's livestream." I looked at him without struggling or saying a word. All the while, my phone remained tucked safely in my pocket, pressed against my thigh and still warm from recording everything. The audio recording was still running. At 3:00 am sharp, Yvette crouched in the middle of the living room. The lighter sparked. The smoke bomb first produced a thin orange flame, then began to hiss. Thick white smoke poured out, filling the room with the sharp, bitter smell of sulfur. Yvette ran into the main bedroom and lit the second one. In less than three minutes, the entire apartment was filled with smoke. White smoke seeped from beneath the door and crawled along the hallway like a living thing, while the smoke detectors overhead began to beep. A moment later, the alarm erupted, sharp and shrill, its piercing sound loud enough to tear through the air. One alarm after another joined in until the entire floor seemed to shake. "Hide! Hurry!" Shane shouted under his breath. Everyone grabbed their phones and tripods and rushed out of the apartment, squeezing into the emergency stairwell. The metal handrail was ice-cold. The alarm was even louder in there. Shane grabbed my wrist again, squeezing so hard it felt like he was trying to crush my bones. He dragged me all the way to the farthest corner of the stairwell and shoved me against the wall. "Crouch here. Don't make a sound. And stay out of the way." I did not fight him. I crouched against the wall and pulled out my phone. The entire building was in chaos. "What's happening? Fire! Run!" "Mom! Mom!" A child's terrified screams cut through the alarm like a needle. Heavy footsteps pounded down the stairs. Someone was carrying a child. Someone else, still in slippers, stumbled and fell on the steps. "Call 911!" People were crying. An elderly voice drifted up from somewhere below, nearly swallowed by the chaos. However, I knew exactly who it was. I closed my eyes and silently repeated Melanie's apartment number in my head, clinging to the thought that she would be okay because I had warned her ahead of time. Yvette crouched in the shadows of the stairwell, holding up her phone. She kept her voice extremely low, and excitement made her breathy. "Can everyone see this? The fire alarm really went off! The whole building is running outside! And now we're getting to the good part!" The comments on her livestream immediately went crazy. [Eight thousand people are watching! This is definitely going to be the hottest video tonight!] Shane crouched one floor above us at the stairwell landing and turned around, giving everyone a thumbs-up. "Get ready. The main event is starting!" In the distance, fire truck sirens pierced the quiet of the early morning. There was one at first, then another, and then a third, their deep, high-pitched wails intertwining as they raced closer and closer. Red and blue lights swept across the walls of the entire building. Yvette trembled with excitement. "They're here! They're here! Three trucks! At least three!" Within moments, three fire trucks pulled up outside: a ladder truck, a pumper truck, and a rescue truck. Everything was there. Firefighters in full gear charged through the entrance, the spotlights on their helmets slicing bright white beams through the thick smoke. The property manager on duty came running outside. The lazy, careless attitude he had had when he had spoken to me a few hours earlier was gone. His face had gone deathly pale. "Seventh floor! Smoke is pouring out from underneath the door on the seventh floor!" The firefighters charged upstairs against the flow of people escaping. The commanding officer leading the team gave a hand signal to break the door. A heavy metal breaching tool slammed into the lock. The entire floor seemed to shake. Wood splintered, and the lock cylinder went flying across the hallway. The deafening crash of the door breaking open made Yvette let out an excited whisper-scream into the camera. "They're here! They're here!" The moment the firefighters charged into the smoke, everyone instantly shouted, "Prank successful! Happy graduation!" However, the scene fell into a deathly silence.