Just because the campus queen from the dorm next door posted photos online of using cosmetic leeches for “scientific” fat reduction, she went viral overnight and landed a high-paying sponsorship.

In my previous life, my roommate wanted to copy her and become an online influencer by live-streaming herself using leeches for weight loss in our dorm, but I stopped her.

I boiled the squirming leeches to death and dumped them down the drain.

“Linda Carter, this stuff isn’t hygienic—it could spread disease.”

She agreed with her mouth, but then went online and posted that I was jealous of her, that I couldn’t stand to see her become more beautiful and popular, and that I was deliberately suppressing her.

After all, once this kind of bizarre livestream blew up, the traffic and donations could be very lucrative.

Watching the campus queen next door get more and more popular, my roommate smashed her phone in anger.

And then she blamed everything on me.

One night, while I was asleep, my roommate tied me up.

“Sarah Miller, do you realize that everything I have today is thanks to you?”

“If you hadn’t thrown away my leeches and stopped me from streaming, I’d be the one with that high-paying sponsorship right now.”

“It’s you—you cut off my path to fortune, you destroyed my dream of stardom. Why don’t you just die?”

As soon as the words fell, she dumped a whole jar of freshly bought leeches onto my face.

Before I died, I saw her open her phone and start livestreaming, pressing another jar of leeches onto her own face, laughing hysterically into the camera.

My nose and mouth were clogged by the slippery creatures—I couldn’t even cry for help.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day when my roommate held up that jar of leeches, asking me to discuss the details of her livestream with her.

Linda set a glass jar on my desk.

Inside, a dozen leeches squirmed in the water, making my scalp crawl.

“Sarah, look what I bought.”

“Melissa Scott next door went viral with this, didn’t she? If she can do it, so can I.”

Melissa, the campus queen at our college, had exploded in popularity just two days ago with a video of “leech liposuction,” gaining three hundred thousand followers overnight.

In the video, she went to a high-end cosmetic clinic, where a professional attached several clean medical leeches to her arm.

The whole process was filmed beautifully and intriguingly, and the comments section was full of admiration for how far she was willing to go for beauty.

And Linda clearly wanted to replicate that path to fame—only she intended to go even more extreme.

“Cosmetic clinics are too expensive, and they’re not exciting enough. I’ll just do it in our dorm and let the leeches suck on me myself. It’ll be way more entertaining.”

Her eyes gleamed with hunger for traffic as she began drafting titles for her livestream.

“Challenge the Internet: raw leech blood-sucking weight loss, live from the dorm.”

In my past life, her crazed look had scared me into destroying her leeches by force.

As a result, she hated me to the bone.

This time, I looked at her and at the jar of leeches that made me sick to my stomach.

“Great idea, Linda.”

She stared at me blankly. “Sarah, you agree?”

“Of course.”

I stood up, walked to her side, and leaned closer to the glass jar with feigned curiosity.

“When have I ever not supported what you wanted to do? But livestreaming is a big deal—you’d better prepare properly.”

My gaze shifted from the jar to her face.

“I knew it, Sarah, you’re the best.”

She hugged me excitedly. “Don’t worry. When I blow up and become a famous influencer, I’ll never forget you.”

I gently patted her back and said, “Sure.”

Of course, I knew she wouldn’t forget me.

Linda quickly threw herself into her influencer dream.

She stood in front of the mirror, practicing her opening lines for the livestream over and over, and rehearsed which angles made her look the best.

She even pulled me and another roommate into a planning session.

“Sarah, you’re the brainiac of our dorm—you’ve got the sharpest mind. Help me think: how can I keep people engaged during the stream?”

Our other roommate, Kelly Brown, timid by nature, looked nervously at the jar of leeches and whispered, “Linda, is this really safe? Maybe you should just forget it.”

Linda immediately scowled. “What do you mean, not safe? Melissa did it. Kelly, you’re just too timid—you’ll never achieve anything big.”

Then she turned those expectant eyes on me.

I closed my book, adjusted my glasses, and said, “I think, if you want it to be effective, you have to be real. Just show your most authentic self—that’s what the audience loves.”

“Authentic?”

“Yeah. For example, talk about how much research you did, how much effort you put in. And when the leeches latch onto your skin—does it hurt, what does it feel like? Just say it all directly. The more real it is, the more shocking the effect.”

“Yes, yes—Sarah, you’re like my strategist. That’s exactly what I’ll do.”

She didn’t notice my fingers, under the table, quietly lighting up my phone screen.

This time, I wasn’t going to stop her.

Linda’s ambition went far beyond a quirky dorm livestream.

She had her eyes set on surpassing Melissa, the campus queen.

“She used a high-definition camera? I’ll buy one too. And that soft lighting ring—yeah, I need that as well.”

Linda piled professional streaming gear into her online shopping cart, then pushed her phone in front of me.

“Sarah, look—this all adds up to over three thousand. I’m a little short right now. Can you cover me? We’re best friends, aren’t we?”

In my past life, I’d heard this countless times.

From a cup of Starbucks to dresses worth thousands, she always used the words “best friends” to emotionally blackmail me—and I always gave in.

I paid her bills again and again, only for her to tell others behind my back that I was stingy, that even though my family had money, I never spent a dime on her.

This time, I looked at the expensive equipment in her cart and hesitated.

“Linda, it’s not that I don’t want to help, but my mom just paid for my next quarter’s tutoring classes last month. I really don’t have much money left in my account.”

“Sarah, what do you mean? You just don’t want me to succeed, do you?”

“You’re jealous of me—jealous that I’m going to be an influencer, that I’ll outshine you.”

“I’m not. I really don’t have the money. If you don’t believe me, I can show you my account balance.”

I reached for my phone, but Linda grabbed my hand.

“Enough. Stop pretending. You’re just afraid that once I blow up, Ethan Johnson will only have eyes for me, aren’t you?”

Ethan, our college’s golden boy, was also Linda’s secret crush.

In my past life, because I was a bit closer to him, Linda targeted me both openly and in the shadows.

But now, having lived again, I had long lost interest in a man who only cared about appearances.

I pulled my hand free and said, “You’re overthinking it. I’m not interested in your Ethan. I really don’t have the money. Figure out the equipment yourself.”

Then I put on my headphones and ignored her.

Linda shot me a glare before storming out and slamming the door.

Kelly leaned toward me and whispered, “Sarah, did you and Linda fight?”

I shook my head. “No. I just finally figured some things out, that’s all.”

Not long after, Linda came back.

She was holding a brand-new phone and a full set of streaming equipment.

She dropped everything on the desk with a loud thud.

“Some people just can’t stand seeing others succeed. They think that by not lending me money, they can block my path to chasing my dream. Pathetic.”

Her snide words were aimed straight at me.

I knew she must have found another “sucker.”

Sure enough, that evening, I saw a post on the college forum.

“Feeling for my treasure girl, working so hard for her dream but being suppressed by her roommate.”

The post came from an anonymous account, but every word pointed at me and Linda.

It even included a photo of Linda wiping away tears at our dorm door.

The comments poured in, full of insults directed at me.

“What kind of roommate is that? So toxic.”

“Exactly. Can’t stand to see someone else succeed, huh? Classic jealousy.”

“Expose her, let everyone see what kind of person she is.”

The post quickly gained traction, and soon Ethan appeared in the comments.

He replied under his real name:

“I believe Linda is a kind girl. Please don’t assume the worst about someone chasing their dreams. I’ve already helped her with the equipment. I hope her livestream goes smoothly.”

Everyone praised him endlessly.

Linda showed me his reply on her phone.

“See, Sarah? Ethan is on my side. What do you have to compete with me?”

“Congratulations,” I said. “You’ve found your knight.”

With Ethan’s financial support, Linda’s streaming setup leveled up instantly.

High-def camera, professional lighting, microphone—all complete.

She even spent extra to promote her livestream announcement on the platform’s homepage.

Our dorm table was completely transformed into a streaming studio.

“Sarah, move your lamp—it’s blocking my shot.”

“Kelly, eat quieter—you’re ruining my vibe.”

Kelly could only retreat to the balcony with her snacks, too afraid to argue.

I didn’t mind. I quietly packed up my things and gave her more space.

The more invested she became, the harder the fall would be when it all came crashing down.

The day before the livestream, Linda suddenly realized a fatal problem.

“Oh no, my leeches.”

She clutched the glass jar.

“Melissa used medical leeches that cost over a thousand a jar. But I already spent Ethan’s money on equipment.”

The jar in her hands was the one she had first bought from some sketchy online seller for fifty bucks.

The water inside was murky and foul, and the leeches lay limp at the bottom, barely alive.

“How can I livestream with these? If I use them, people will laugh me off the Internet.”

Linda panicked, pacing in circles.

And once again, the first person she thought of was me.

She grabbed my arm.

“Sarah, my dear Sarah, help me just one more time, please? Just this once.”

“I know you’ve got some savings. Lend me a thousand. As soon as I get donations, I’ll pay you back—double.”

I pulled my arm free, looking troubled.

“Linda, I really don’t have the money. Why don’t you ask Ethan again?”

“I can’t bring myself to ask him again.”

When I refused, Linda turned to her fan group on Discord to play the victim.

“Guys, disaster struck. The leeches I prepared for my livestream are ruined. I need money urgently to buy new ones. Otherwise, tomorrow’s stream will be canceled. Is my dream really going to end here?”