My Life, My Rules

“"Voices." That's how I found Ethan a year ago, online, his deep, calm tones a warm blanket over my introverted self. Today, after months of online chats, my boyfriend was finally coming to meet me in person. My stomach churned with a nervous, hopeful excitement. But then, as if a glitch in my reality, a transparent social media feed flickered into my vision, comments scrolling relentlessly. "LOL, 'vet him.' She means 'steal him.'" "Main Character Brit about to secure the love interest! Sarah who?" They were mocking me, predicting my popular, effortlessly charming roommate, Brit, would steal Ethan. "Girl, this ain't a hallucination. This is the script. You're watching your life's reality show." My excitement shattered. Brit, always the queen to my lady-in-waiting, played her part perfectly, offering syrupy "concern" to check out my "online guy," later even faking an ankle injury just to get Ethan alone. Each comment from "The Feed," each calculated move from Brit, amplified my deepest fear: I was just an average side character, destined to be replaced. Was this my inevitable fate? To watch my love story unfold as a footnote in someone else's drama? The injustice of it all, this pre-written "script" I was supposed to follow, sparked a cold, determined anger deep within me. No. This was *my* life. And I refused to be a stepping stone. I would not be the loser side character. I would fight for him, fighting back with every clever text, every subtle move to reclaim control, even a strategic lie, to ensure I wrote my own script.”