Page 27 of Cyber Revenge

I sit in the dark with my mask on and my phone in my hand, staring at her Snap story as it plays on loop. It’s a repost from her fans.

A clip of her in-game, clearing a team with perfect precision, biting her lip as she reloads, headset crooked, tits bouncing in a low-cut top.

The comments are thirsty. Wild. Overwhelming.

I watch the video fourteen times. I don’t save it. Don’t screen record. Don’t need to. I have it memorized.

Let him be the boyfriend.

Let him drive her to brunch and buy her flowers, and play pretend in her curated feed.

I’m leaving.

I’m backing off.

I’m just waiting.

Because I know him. I know the cracks.

And I know that when he breaks, she’ll need someone to pick up the pieces.

Someone strong. Someone patient.

Someone already obsessed.

FIFTEEN

LYDIA

On paper, everything is perfect.

Patrick’s attentive. Generous. Hot as hell. He shows up. Texts every morning. Picks up food without being asked. Leaves love notes in my vape drawer and calls mehis girlin every Instagram comment.

And for the first few weeks, I feel lucky.

We play games together. He joins my streams. His flirtation is smooth, cocky, but sweet enough to disarm me. He watches my daughter’s favorite shows with us. Even brings her a plushie from her favorite streamer.

But things change fast.

He starts slipping in little jabs.

“You still play with other guys on stream?”

“You know those simps don’t care about your skills, right?”

“Maybe just leave me off your stories for a bit. Let the mystery work for us.”

He says it with a smile. Like it’s a suggestion. A joke.

But when I hesitate, the smile drops.

And when I push back, he calls meparanoid.

I stop streaming with randoms, only girls, or fans I already know.

I crop him out of photos. Let him post thirst traps without tagging me. I don’t want to start a fight every time he sees my name in the comments of someone else's video.

I want peace.

---