Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English
Synopsis
My roommate, Lexi, was obsessed with rating other girls' looks. She even claimed she was going to rate and "glow up" every girl on campus.
Every morning, she would wake up thirty minutes early, shove her phone in my face, and film me, claiming she was documenting her "makeover project" for content.
Whenever I blocked the lens, she’d smirk. "You just don't get it. Bad publicity is still publicity. The first step is making people remember you."
In my past life, she snapped an unedited picture of me eating instant ramen without makeup and posted it on social media as a "cautionary tale."
Her caption: #RoommateRefusesMakeoverSheDeservesHerLowScore.
The post went viral. She became the queen of brutal campus clapbacks, while I became a walking joke—the infamous "4.8 Girl."
I ended up swallowing an entire bottle of sleeping pills. The last sound I heard before slipping away was the audio playing on loop from her pinned video:
*“Knowing your place is the most basic sign of respect for others.”*
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the first day of the semester.
Lexi was shoving a rating sheet right in my face, her voice dripping with fake charity:
"Chloe! I spent all summer researching this! Barefaced, you're a 5.5. Your outfit is a 4.2. That's a failing grade overall! But lucky for you, I can fix you."
I blinked. A sheet of printer paper was hovering barely an inch from my face.
The bold header, *Comprehensive Appearance Rating Sheet*, burned into my retinas.
I was reborn.
In my previous life, she had stood before me holding that exact same paper. Back then, I just laughed it off and politely declined.
After that, Lexi started ripping off my blankets at six in the morning, sticking her phone in my face to film me brushing my teeth, eating breakfast, and showing off my puffy, newly-awake face.
When I tried to block the camera, she edited the footage into a reel with the caption: *A prime example of refusing to be saved.*
Once, while I was changing in the bathroom, she barged right in with her phone raised. "Just checking your body proportions!"
I screamed and dropped to the floor to cover myself. She just burst out laughing. "We're both girls, what are you so shy about?"
She posted the photos on the campus board under the title: *Roommate is a bare-faced 4.8, refuses to glow up, totally deserves her low score.*
There were over three hundred comments.
"Yikes, she really is tragic."
"OP is being way too generous. That's a 3 at best."
"Why is her skin so greasy?"
Walking down the hallway between classes, people recognized me. They pointed their screens at me and whispered to their friends, "Look, that's her. The Rating Queen’s roommate. The 4.8 girl."
I kept my head down and ran, laughter echoing behind me the entire way.
I begged Lexi to delete the post.
She was sitting cross-legged on her bed painting her nails, not even bothering to look up. "Delete it? How am I supposed to delete a forum post? Besides, I’m just telling the truth. That's literally your level without makeup. You should be thanking me for the reality check."
Later, she started live-streaming under the title: *Day X of Transforming My Roommate.*
One afternoon, while I was taking a nap, she leaned in for an extreme close-up of my face. When I startled awake, my cheek still had red marks pressed into it from the pillow.
Lexi tsked into the camera. "Look at this, guys. She drools in her sleep."
The chat blew up with comments like "Ew, gross," and "No wonder she's a 4.8."
When I tried to grab her phone, she shoved me hard. The camera wobbled and caught me crashing onto the floor.
She quickly put on a mock-apologetic face. "Come on, don't be dramatic! We're live, give me a break!"
The day before I dropped out, Lexi hit ten thousand followers on her stream.
She smiled at the camera and said, "Yeah, that roommate of mine just couldn't handle the brutal truth, so she disappeared. What can I say? I'm just too real."
That night, I dumped a whole bottle of sleeping pills into my palm. Even as I was dying, the bitter taste of those pills lingered in my mouth.
Seeing me zone out, Lexi waved the paper again. "Chloe? Are you listening? I can get your bare face up to a 6.8 and your style past a 6..."
I threw back the covers and stepped barefoot onto the cold floor. The chill surged up my spine, snapping my mind into sharp focus.
Before Lexi could react, I snatched the paper right out of her hand and ripped it to shreds!
Paper scraps fluttered through the air, one piece sticking to the tip of her nose. She froze, stunned, before letting out a shriek.
"Chloe, are you insane?!"
Insane? I’ve already died once. You think I’m afraid of going crazy?!
You love filming me so much? In this life, I’m turning the camera on you first.
I unlocked my phone, opened the camera, and pointed the video right at her.
"Say that again, Lexi. You're grading me? You want to 'transform' me?"
She instinctively raised her hand to shield her face, taking a step back in outrage. "What do you think you're doing? Why are you recording me?!"
I sneered. "Just capturing some footage to give you a rating of your own. Let’s see what score you really deserve!"
Lexi lunged forward to grab my phone, but I sidestepped and held it high above her reach.
She was half a head shorter than me; even on her tiptoes, she couldn't reach it.
"Give it back! Chloe, who gave you the right to film me?!"
"Who gave you the right to grade other people?" I glared down at her.
Flustered and on the verge of tears, she kicked a chair in frustration and stormed out of the room.
The dorm door slammed shut with a violent bang, rattling the mirror on the wall.
I was left alone in the room. I stopped the recording, sat on the edge of the bed, and let out a long breath.
In my past life, these hands were only ever used to wipe away tears.
Wiping them away when she secretly filmed me. Wiping them away when strangers commented "4.8." Wiping them away when I dropped out and my mom held me, sobbing.
By the night I swallowed the pills, my hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold the glass of water.
I stood up, walked to the sink, and turned on the faucet. In the mirror, my face was wet with cold water, but there wasn't a single tear.
In this life, I’m done crying.That night, after lights out, I lay in bed pretending to sleep. Behind the curtain of the bed across from mine, the furious clatter of keyboard keys echoed through the room. Even muffled by the fabric, I could feel the sheer rage in every keystroke.
Knowing Lexi, there was no way she would swallow her pride. Having a second chance at life meant I was ready to take her down once and for all.
About twenty minutes later, my phone screen lit up. Sure enough, a notification from the campus board popped up.
The photo showed me from that morning right after I had shredded the paper.
It was taken from a low, upward angle—me in my pajamas, hair a messy bird’s nest, chin tucked down to create an exaggerated double chin. The angle was so deliberately unflattering it looked professionally orchestrated.
Title: *Proof my roommate is an unhinged bare-faced 4.8. Refused a makeover, cursed me out, totally deserves her low score.*
Instant comments rolled in: "Who is that?", "Yikes, rough look," "Keep going, OP! Waiting for the full campus ranking."
Lexi replied under her own post: *Plenty more content coming. Follow me so you don't miss updates.*
I stared at the screenshots for five seconds, then saved them.
Opening my video editor, I trimmed the footage I had shot earlier, bumped up the brightness, and zoomed in clearly on Lexi’s face.
I uploaded the clip with the title: *My roommate aspires to be a campus creep. Here’s the video proof.*
The caption read: "This is what my roommate told me on day one of the semester. Did any girl on this campus actually consent to being graded by her?"
Within thirty minutes, my notifications blew up.
The post already had over two hundred replies.
Top comment: "Who does she think she is? Who gave her the right to rate people?"
Second comment: "Isn’t this a massive privacy violation? Where is the administration on this?"
Third comment: "How gorgeous does she think she is to be handing out report cards on other girls?"
Someone even posted a screenshot of Lexi’s own comment—*Plenty more content coming*—captioning it: *Creepy as hell. Confirmed campus stalker.*
I clicked back over to her original post. The newest comments were flooded with backlash: "OP is a creep," "Karma came fast," "If you're so good at grading, why don't you rate yourself first?"
Her post was completely buried under the outrage.
At 3:00 a.m., my bed curtain was violently yanked open. A burst of cold air rushed in.
I opened my eyes to see Lexi standing right beside my bed, holding her phone.
The glare of the screen lit up her ghostly white face, catching me off guard.
Her voice was a venomous whisper. "You actually posted me online? Did I give you permission?"
I didn't move. I stayed lying on my side, looking at her with half-lidded eyes.
"Chloe, you set me up! When did you start recording? You baited me on purpose this morning, didn't you?!"
"What?" I yawned casually. "You can secretly film people, but I can't record proof?"
She stood there, breathing heavily. Her shadow loomed over my bed, heavy and suffocating.
I could hear the grinding of her teeth. Finally, she squeezed out through clenched jaws, "You're going to regret this."
Her footsteps stomped away, and she slapped the curtain shut with a sharp crack.
Silence settled back over the dorm room. I stared up at the wooden slats of the bunk above me.
In my past life, Lexi stripped me of my dignity and threw me to the wolves online, telling me to "know my place."
Well, in this life, she was about to learn hers.At lunch the next day, I had just picked up my fork when a sudden commotion erupted two tables over.
"Who gave you permission to take pictures of me?!"
A girl's furious voice sliced through the cafeteria, freezing the entire dining area in its tracks.
I looked over. Lexi was sitting in the middle row, cornered by two girls standing directly in front of her.
The girl who had spoken slammed her tray onto the table with a loud *clatter*.
A piece of chicken stir-fry slipped from Lexi's fork back into her bowl. She forced a nervous smile. "Wh-what are you talking about?"
"Stop playing dumb." The other girl whipped out her phone and aimed the camera straight at Lexi.
"You took pictures of me two days ago, didn't you? My best friend recognized you. Did you post it online? Did you give me a score?!"
Heads turned from every direction.
Lexi’s smile froze, the corners of her mouth twitching as she gripped her fork tight. "I was just trying to help you glow up! My rating system is meant to help people see their true potential!"
"Say that again?" The girl holding the phone took a step closer, shoving the camera within inches of Lexi's nose. "Say that again! What were you trying to 'help' me with?!"
Lexi buried her head and shoveled rice into her mouth, swallowing without even chewing, nearly choking on the dry grains.
More students crowded around, murmuring.
"Isn't that the Rating Girl? The one getting dragged on the forum?"
"Yeah, that's her! The video exposed her. She’s been secretly snapping pics of people and grading them."
The whispers buzzed like a swarm of hornets, multiplying from a few murmurs into a roar of chatter across the entire dining hall.
Lexi jammed the last few bites into her mouth, grabbed her tray, and bolted.
The two girls didn't chase her, but others snapped photos of her scurrying away in shame.
As she shoved through the crowd, she bumped hard into a guy’s shoulder without even apologizing. Her pace quickened until she was practically sprinting out the cafeteria doors.
That afternoon, our dorm counselor called me into her office.
She sat behind her desk, sighed heavily, and rubbed her hands together. "Chloe, have a seat."
"Your roommate came to see me today. She spent nearly half an hour crying in this office."
The counselor unscrewed her travel mug, took a sip, and continued, "What she did was wrong. Secretly filming people is unacceptable. But look, those two posts on the campus board have blown up, and it's severely impacting her."
I remained silent.
She rubbed her hands again. "How about this? You take down your post, and I’ll make sure she deletes hers. We handle this internally without escalating it to the administration. It’s better for everyone. What do you think?"
I looked her in the eyes. "Counselor, she secretly took photos of me in my pajamas and plastered them online for people to mock. That photo is still up on the forum. That's what I call out of hand."
"I recorded evidence to defend myself. That’s called self-defense."
The counselor opened her mouth, but had no answer.
"If you want posts deleted," I added firmly, "maybe ask her why she was stalking people and grading their faces in the first place."
The counselor fell silent for a long moment before sighing. "I'll talk to her again."
I stood up. "Thank you."
At the door, I paused and looked back over my shoulder. "I'm not deleting the post."
That evening, the campus forum exploded.
The moderator had pinned my post to the very top and updated the title:
*From 'My Roommate Aspires to Be a Campus Creep' to 'The Rating Girl: From Self-Appointed Guru to Campus Pariah.'*
It was trending at number one. Comments were pouring in faster than I could refresh the page.
New submissions flooded the thread.
Someone uploaded a screenshot showing Lexi sneaking photos of girls in the library.
Someone else compiled a nine-photo collage of blurry candid shots Lexi had taken over the past two weeks—at the boba shop, the quad, and outside lecture halls.
Title: *She took photos of all these people too. If you recognize yourself, start saving evidence!*
The outrage snowballed from public shaming into formal complaints.
Just past six in the evening, Lexi’s forum account was suspended for seven days.
Her post containing my pajamas photo was finally scrubbed, replaced with the default message: *This content has been removed due to community violations.*
I got up from my desk to refill my water bottle. Passing Lexi’s bed, I saw her curled up in the corner, clutching her knees and weeping softly.
I ignored her completely.
In this life, I’m not the one who’s going to end up in a grave.After the stalking scandal, Lexi was completely ostracized.
In our major classes, not a single person would team up with her for group projects.
When I returned to the dorm that afternoon, I sat at my desk reading while she sat on the edge of her bed.
At first, I could hear her scrolling through her phone, but eventually, even that went quiet.
I turned a page. Out of the corner of my eye, I felt something shifting. When I glanced over, she was staring directly at me.
I looked back down at my book.
About five minutes passed, and that cold stare remained glued to the side of my face. I still didn't budge.
"Chloe," she finally spoke, her voice flat. "Are you happy now?"
I didn't even look up. "You brought this on yourself."
She let out a chilling, bizarre chuckle. A cold shudder ran down my spine; something felt terribly off.
At eleven that night, I reached for my tumbler on the desk and took a sip.
A strange, faint taste hit my tongue—bitter and metallic, like crushed pills dissolved in water.
I held the water in my mouth without swallowing, quickly stood up, rushed into the bathroom, and spat it into the sink.
I rinsed my mouth with fresh water twice, only stopping when the water came out completely clean.
I didn't make a scene. Walking back to my desk, I poured the rest of the tainted water into an empty plastic water bottle and tucked it away, placing the original tumbler back in its exact spot on the nightstand.
At 2:00 a.m., the bed frame across from mine creaked softly.
Through the slits of my eyelashes, I watched her.
Lexi leaned over and mounted her phone on a small tripod at the foot of her bed. After tweaking the angle, the camera was pointed squarely at my sleeping figure.
The screen was lit with a live-streaming app. Her thumb hovered over the "Go Live" button, ready to press down.
The exact second her finger grazed the glass, I threw off my blanket.
I lunged forward, snatching the phone out of her hand before she could process what was happening. Her gasp caught in her throat as I slammed my left hand onto her shoulder, shoving her backward.
*Bang!* Her spine collided with the metal railing of the bunk bed, the dull thud echoing loudly in the quiet room.
She was pinned firmly against the bars, trapped under the weight of my hand.
"What are you doing?!" Her voice trembled violently.
"What did you put in my water?" I whispered, keeping my tone so low only she could hear.
Her lips quivered so hard she couldn't form a coherent sentence. "It was... it was just powdered vitamins! I just wanted you to sleep better!"
I let go of her shoulder, turned around, pulled the plastic bottle from my nightstand, and thrust it right under her nose.
She jerked her head away, her nostrils flaring in panic.
I locked eyes with her. "I kept it."
Ignoring her panicked expression, I tapped three digits into my phone keypad.
"Don't..."
I let out a cold laugh, dialed 911 right in front of her face, and brought the phone to my ear.
"I need to report an incident. Someone slipped an unknown substance into my water, and I suspect it's drugged. She's right here in the room."
Chapters (4)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Watch & Promotions
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