Chapter 11

If there was one thing Manon had learned from living in a house with five other girls, it was that silence never meant peace.

It meant tension. It meant avoidance. And most importantly, it meant she had work to do.

“I’m just saying,” she announced to Lara as they lounged in their shared room the next morning, “our brilliant little matchmaking plot was an epic failure.”

Lara didn’t look up from her phone.
“It was your brilliant little matchmaking plot.”

Manon rolled her eyes.
“You helped. That makes you complicit. You’re accessory to emotional sabotage.”

She paused, watching the way Lara’s thumbs slowed.

The girl was obviously still worried.

Megan had barely spoken to her since the journal incident, and while they had made some progress, the distance still lingered in Megan’s stiff shoulders and in the way she avoided sitting beside Daniela during dinner.

“Okay,” Manon sat up straighter, a spark in her eyes. “New plan.”

“No,” Lara said immediately, putting her phone down. “No new plans. The last one almost killed the vibe and the living room lamp.”

“First of all, the lamp had it coming,” Manon grinned.

“Second, this one isn’t about Megan. It’s about Daniela.”

Lara gave her a long look. “What about her?”

Manon smirked. “She’s not straight.”

Lara rolled her eyes “We’re not even sure about that”

“She’s not,” Manon said confidently, legs crossed like she was leading a TED Talk. “She’s just in denial. And you and I both know she won’t let herself see it.

So…” She paused for dramatic effect. “I’m going to help her. With science.”

“Manon, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Not science like test tubes. Like algorithm science.” She leaned closer. “We’re going to hack her brain.”

“…Please stop talking.”

But Manon had already stood up and started pacing.
“You know how everyone says your phone listens to you? That the algorithm targets you based on what you say around it?”

Lara narrowed her eyes.
“…Yes?”

“Well, I’m going to make sure Daniela’s phone hears all the right things.”

The opportunity came that afternoon, and Manon did not hesitate.

The moment Daniela disappeared into the bathroom for a shower, Manon pounced like a cat stalking a prey.

Lara watched from the couch, horrified and fascinated.

“She left her phone on the armrest,” Manon whispered like she was in a spy thriller. “Unlocked.”

“She always leaves it unlocked. She thinks face recognition is a government scam.”

Manon snatched it and ducked behind the kitchen counter like she was avoiding sniper fire.

Lara dragged a hand over her face. “This is a terrible idea.”
Manon cleared her throat.

“Am I gay quiz. Lesbian crush signs. How to know if you’re queer. Compulsory heterosexuality explained. Help, I think I like my best friend. Gay panic TikTok. What is comphet. Soft girls smiling. Realizing you’re not straight montage. Emotional gay awakening music playlist.”

She paused to breathe, then glanced up.

Lara looked like she was witnessing a crime scene.

“Did you really just say ‘emotional gay awakening music playlist’?”

“I’m covering all my bases.”

She continued, whispering more absurd phrases into the mic with increasing speed:

“Am I just jealous or do I like her. Queer longing. Friends to lovers but make it sapphic. Intense eye contact with a girl. Gay quizzes Buzzfeed. Unspoken tension gay edition. Slow burn lesbian tension.”

Footsteps were heard.

Manon shrieked and tossed the phone back onto the couch just as Daniela arrived, hair wrapped in a towel and humming softly.

“Why are you two so quiet?”

Daniela asked, walking past them without suspicion.

Lara blinked at Manon. Manon beamed.

“Just manifesting gay thoughts,” she whispered.

Later that evening, Daniela flopped onto her bed, freshly showered and scrolling through her phone like usual.

Except… it wasn’t usual.

The first video on her feed was titled: “You’re not as straight as you think: let’s unpack that.”

She frowned. Scrolled again.

“Signs you’re experiencing compulsive heterosexuality.”
Scroll.

“Gay girl realizes she’s been in love with her best friend for three years — the TikTok storytime.”

Her thumb froze mid-swipe.
“…What the hell?.

She stared at the screen for a few seconds too long.
Then locked her phone, tossed it aside, and buried her face in her pillow.

Manon was having the time of her life.

“She looked like she saw the ghost of gay past,” she whispered to Lara the next morning as they watched Daniela move around the kitchen, pointedly avoiding her phone like it was possessed.

“She’s freaked out,” Lara said, biting her lip. “This might backfire.”

Manon smirked. “Or…it might open her mind. A crack. A little lesbian crack in the walls of denial.”

Lara groaned. “Stop saying lesbian crack. Please.”

Over the next two days, the algorithm worked overtime.

Daniela, to her mounting horror, couldn’t escape it.

Even when she opened Pinterest, it showed soft couples holding hands in the rain.

YouTube offered her queer love stories.

Spotify recommended “Heartstopper soundtrack.”

She tried to ignore it.

She tried to scroll past, to brush off the way her stomach turned when she saw a thumbnail of two girls hugging too tightly.

But the videos kept appearing.

Worse—she started watching them.

Not for long. Just a few seconds. A minute, maybe. But long enough for something to settle in her chest.
Something confusing and heavy.

The final straw came one night,

She couldn’t take it anymore. It was getting ridiculous. TikTok kept serving her “gay awakening” videos every time she scrolled.

YouTube had started recommending Heartstopper essays.

Pinterest had turned against her, full of quotes like “You don’t hate her, you want her” or “You’re not confused, you’re in denial.”

She stared at her phone like it had personally betrayed her.

Sighing, she opened Safari and typed, “Am I gay quiz.”

Her heart stuttered as the results loaded.

The first link was from a sketchy-looking site called “The Ultimate Lesbian Quiz – Find Out Now!” with a glaring pink background and rainbow borders.

She stared at it for a solid minute. Then she clicked.

Question 1: “Have you ever had a crush on a girl?”

Daniela blinked. What even counts as a real crush?
She hovered between “Yes” and “Maybe” for too long, then tapped “Maybe.”

Question 2: “Do you ever imagine kissing girls?”

Her breath hitched. I dreamt about Megan. That counts, doesn’t it?

“Sometimes,” she selected, reluctantly.

Question 3: “Do you care more about what girls think of you than boys?”

Yes, her brain whispered before she could shut it up. She tapped it.

Question 4: “Have you ever convinced yourself you liked a boy just because you were supposed to?”

That one punched her in the gut.
She didn’t answer right away.

Question 5: “Do you think you might just be scared to admit the truth to yourself?”

She froze. Jaw clenched. Her thumb hovered over the screen.

This is stupid. It’s just a dumb quiz. It doesn’t mean anything.
And yet.

Her thumb moved. Yes.

The results loaded slowly, dragging out the moment like a suspense scene in a horror film.

She could practically hear dramatic music in the back of her head.

“You might not be 100% straight… and that’s okay 💖🌈”

Daniela stared at the screen, heart pounding. Something twisted in her chest — fear, confusion, something more fragile than both.

Her thumb trembled as she locked the phone and tossed it face-down onto the bed.

She didn’t move for a long moment.

Then she lay down, pulled the blanket over her head, and shut her eyes tight.

That night, she dreamed of Megan.

It wasn’t strange at first. They were walking down a street, the sun golden and warm, and Megan was laughing at something Daniela said.

Her hair was wind-tousled, and her smile too wide.

Then they were at the beach.

Then Megan’s hand was in hers.

Then—Megan leaned in. Close enough that Daniela could feel the breath between them, warm and achingly gentle.

She woke up gasping.

The next morning, Manon found Daniela sitting alone at the kitchen table, staring into a bowl of cereal like it had just proposed marriage.

“Hey, sleepy gay,” Manon greeted brightly.

Daniela blinked. “What?”

“Nothing,” Manon sang, taking a seat and stealing her spoon.

“You look pale. Nightmares?”

Daniela didn’t answer.
She just grabbed her phone, glanced at it like it had betrayed her, and stood up to leave.

Manon smirked.

Lara slid into the seat next to her. “That look on your face is terrifying.”

“Something is shifting,” Manon whispered dramatically.

“The Dream Gay Awakening arc has begun.”

“You’re evil,” Lara muttered.

“I’m helpful,” Manon corrected.
“There’s a difference.”

That evening, Daniela finally snapped.

She cornered Manon in the hallway.

“Did you touch my phone?”

Manon blinked, completely innocent. “Touch your phone? Babe, I don’t even touch my own phone. Germs.”

“Why is my entire feed suddenly about being gay?” Daniela hissed.

Manon shrugged. “The algorithm works in mysterious ways.”

Daniela narrowed her eyes.

“I didn’t do anything,” Manon said, smiling sweetly.

“But maybe… the universe is trying to tell you something.

Daniela stood still for a long beat. Then stormed off.

As soon as she was gone, Lara peeked out from behind the corner.

“That was risky.”

Manon grinned. “She’s spiraling. It’s working.”

AN:This is one of my favs chapter i loved writing it i hopenu enjoy it as much as i do<3