At the start of my freshman year, my new roommate, Tiffany Malone, snuck onto my phone, took a selfie, and sent it to my online boyfriend. She even added a caption: “Babe, don’t I look gorgeous?” Mason, my boyfriend, sent back a huge question mark and followed it up with a voice message, cursing: “If I ever thought I was in love with that face, it’d make me wanna puke! We’re done, you ugly witch. Get lost!” When I came out of the shower, ready to explain, I found I’d already been blocked. Then Tiffany, holding her phone, smugly told me, “A MuseHub streamer added me! He said he wants to be my boyfriend.” One glance at the account, and I realized it was my ex-boyfriend Mason. Content When I finished my shower, I grabbed my phone off the desk. Opening it, I saw a stream of furious texts from Mason, followed by his breaking up with me. Scrolling up, I saw Tiffany’s hideous selfie. It was stomach-turning. Her huge, greasy face gleamed with a layer of oil, dotted with pimples. When she smiled, her yellow teeth still had chili pepper bits stuck in them. I almost dropped my phone. Trying to explain it wasn’t me, I realized I was already blocked. I snapped at Tiffany, “Why would you even touch my phone without asking? And who told you to send those pictures?” Tiffany rolled her eyes and replied impatiently, “With that plain face, how do you expect to hold onto any guy? I was just helping you out by lending my beauty!” I was speechless. Me, plain? Back in high school, my looks at least got me into the top-ten list on local rankings. Tiffany didn’t always look like this; since she started streaming on MuseHub, she’d played into her audience’s fascination with the grotesque, gradually transforming herself. Ironically, her fans praised her as a “real beauty” in her MuseHub channel. I thought about explaining things to Mason. Even though it was an online relationship, I actually knew who he was. His name was Mason Rivers, a junior at East Ridge Tech, a popular singer on MuseHub with an incredible voice. I came to this city for him. One night after he uploaded a song, he messaged me, saying he loved my voice. We ended up chatting all night. When he realized I was at a nearby school, we made things official the next day. I’d planned to surprise him at this month’s National College Music Fest. Instead, I’d been blocked. I felt crushed, but then Tiffany suddenly squealed, “My dream guy just added me! He said he wants me to be his girlfriend!” Curious, I glanced at her phone. Sure enough, it was Mason’s account. Tiffany didn’t have any photos on MuseHub, just a few of her songs. Her voice was sugary-sweet, completely different from my cool, neutral tone. I was stunned. Mason dumped me and found someone else immediately? Unbelievable. And Mason was in for a surprise, seeing as he’d managed to find the “beauty” from the pictures.
Tiffany stripped off her clothes, her body jiggling everywhere. I thought she was heading to the shower, but she just put on pajamas and walked out, stuffing her underwear under her pillow. I was speechless. I knew she’d head to the hallways to sing with her fake voice. Sure enough, she returned soon, giggling and asking Mason in her sweet tone, “Did I sound good, babe?” Mason’s breathing was heavy. “Baby, your voice is so sweet. It has this… special effect on me. I want to listen to it every night.” I felt like I’d been hit with something vile as they exchanged mushy goodbyes. Tiffany sighed, “Too bad he doesn’t know I’m a famous streamer, too. But come music fest, he’ll get a surprise!” I could hardly wait to see Mason’s reaction when that surprise arrived. Tiffany then started her nightly livestream. Ironically, I was scrolling through my phone in a face mask and accidentally stumbled across it. In her MuseHub channel, Tiffany was wearing black lace tights, and her belly rolls spilled over them like layers. Her skin was dull and blotchy, and I couldn’t remember the last time she took a shower. She twisted around, using a voice modulator to sound more mature. “Oh, boys, it’s so hot tonight. I’m here for you even when it’s this hot.” “You guys have to give me a Top Diamond Gift tonight, or I won’t perform.” The room was packed, and sure enough, a message popped up: “Streamer’s location is only six miles from me!” The profile picture was an anime character, and the bio listed East Ridge Tech—the same school as Mason’s. Disgusted, I closed the video, but later, I noticed a new post on MuseHub with two screenshots of Tiffany’s stream: “Loves playing around with a voice modulator. Given the location, I bet she’s from Starlight Conservatory.”
Mason had liked and commented on the post, thinking it was me in the screenshots. “Heads-up, everyone. Don’t get fooled by this ugly chick. She’s got a MuseHub account too.” Other replies flooded in: “Gross!” “Just seeing that makes me lose my appetite.” “Thanks for the warning.” Mason even messaged me: “Don’t let me see you at the music fest, or there’ll be trouble.” I blocked Mason in return, laughing coldly as I watched Tiffany putting on her “sweet girl” act for her viewers, kicking out anyone who called her out. She was convinced she was a special kind of beauty. Suddenly, her “top fan” Blake “Big Al” Morrison entered her channel. “Sweetheart, crawl around like a bear, and I’ll send you five True Love Roses.” Tiffany’s eyes sparkled, and she started crawling on all fours. Her rolls of flesh strained her tights, and her tattoos stretched across her back. She was panting when she finished, but her top fan rewarded her with a Grand Carnival gift and promised, “I’ll be back every night at ten for a new performance.” Tiffany beamed and thanked him as she ended the stream. Today, she’d made a killing. With pride, she said, “Not like some people here who still live off family money.” I couldn’t resist asking, “You really think you’re beautiful?” Tiffany scoffed, “You think dried-up twigs like you are real women? Look at this,” she said, pointing to her chest. “I don’t have to try, and look at that figure. These guys are obsessed with me, or they wouldn’t camp out every night.” I just closed my eyes, hoping not to have nightmares.
The next morning, I was rushing to my 8 a.m. class, while Tiffany was sprawled out on her bed. I hesitated, then told her, “You’ve got class this morning. You should get up.” Tiffany groaned, turning to face the wall and muttered, “Just tell them I’m sick.” I glanced at the clock, deciding not to push it. She’d barely shown up to any classes since the term began. In the lecture hall, Emma Sanders asked, “Riley, are you signing up for the music fest? They say East Ridge Tech has a lot of cute guys participating.” I nodded. I wasn’t doing it for the guys—I loved singing and wouldn’t miss the chance to perform. Emma asked if I’d picked a song, and I told her, “I’m still deciding.” I had chosen a song to perform for Mason, but now I had to pick something else. Logging onto MuseHub, I was bombarded with 99+ messages. One comment, from an unfamiliar account, read: “You ugly skank, think you can just block me? Watch me expose your account and get you booted from MuseHub!” It was Mason’s backup account. I scrolled through my old uploads, where a swarm of hateful comments had appeared. “Just a fugly girl fishing for guys—does it make you sick?” “I thought that voice belonged to a beauty, but it’s a fat slob. I could puke.” I unblocked Mason and saw his new post: “Watch out for this chick’s account. She posted pics and harassed me. If she shows up at the music fest, let’s teach her a lesson.” Too embarrassed to admit we’d dated, Mason lied and said I was harassing him. His fan club raided my comments. Any attempt to explain was drowned out with insults: “Stop harassing my idol!” “Go away!” More and more people warned me not to show up at the music fest. Furious, I deleted the app.
After a long day, I returned to the dorm, only to be hit with a horrid smell. Trash was scattered everywhere. Looking up, I was stunned to find Tiffany, fully naked, putting on makeup at the desk. My temper flared. “Why are you sitting there with no clothes? And this trash! You’re not going to clean it up?” Tiffany shrugged, still using her baby voice. “Why so loud? I was just about to clean it up.” From her phone, I heard Mason’s voice: “Who’s that? That voice sounds familiar.” Tiffany quickly whined, “Oh, it’s just my roommate, Riley. She’s always bullying me.” Mason hesitated. “Riley? Is that her name?” Tiffany slammed the desk, snapping, “Why are you calling her by name like that?” Mason stammered, “No, babe. My roommate told me there’s this ugly girl at your school named Riley. I even saw a photo—she’s hideous! You’d better steer clear.” Tiffany finally calmed down, replying, “Yeah, she’s not cute at all.” Mason chuckled, “And does this ugly girl know you’re calling me with no clothes on? She’d probably be jealous if she saw how hot you look.” Tiffany laughed, dismissing the thought. “Yeah, she’s probably jealous of me, but I can’t help that.” Mason’s voice turned shaky with excitement: “Baby, could you send me a picture?” Tiffany giggled, “You’re so bad! Don’t worry, I’ll have a huge surprise for you at the music fest.”
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