The Aesthetic Roommate's Downfall

Right at the start of freshman year, my new college roommate blew up on social media, hitting a million followers overnight by playing the role of a bougie, disciplined rich girl who spoiled her whole dorm. Online, she looked aesthetic and sweet. But in real life behind closed doors, she drove the rest of us straight into a nervous breakdown. After trying to reason with her over and over, only to have her sick her rabid fanbase on us to cyberbully us into silence, I decided I was completely done taking the high road. I flipped the script, made a parody account tracking "A Day in the Life of a Perfect Aesthetic Dorm Girl," and went mega-viral. When the fall semester kicked off, my new college roommate, Chloe, went viral online with a single dorm makeover vlog. In the clip, she was decked out in high-end designer pieces with flawless makeup. The footage showed her scrubbing the entire dorm top to bottom all by herself, sweet as could be, carefully putting up chic wallpaper for every roommate's bed area, hanging cozy privacy curtains, and setting out cute little ambient nightlights. Since it was move-in week, the video exploded the second it went live, racking up thousands of shares and comments from freshmen everywhere. It shot straight to the trending tab, crowning her the "Ultimate Dream Roommate." The university's official social media accounts even dropped a like and reposted her video right away, claiming her as campus pride. Naturally, sitting at the center of all this hype, the rest of us were thrilled, too. In our dorm SnapChat group, our roommate Wendy couldn't stop sending paragraphs of thanks. Our other roommate, Mia, was hyped enough to drop several generous cash transfers into the group, saying she literally couldn't wait to get to campus and meet everyone. I dropped a nod of approval, added a "plus one" in the chat, and quietly swapped out the generic skincare sets I’d planned to give my new roommates for brand-new designer bags instead. "Hey girls, I'm here!" I pushed open the door and found the three of them in the middle of trading gifts. I squeezed in with a grin and set the gift boxes down on the desk. "Take your pick! If you don't like the colors, just let me know and I'll go swap them." "Holy crap, Queen! Consider me your personal minion for life!" Mia squealed in excitement and pressed a sleek, high-end fountain pen into my hand. Next to her, Wendy scrambled to pull out a greaseproof paper package from her bag. "Emma, try some of these." She timidly held out the paper-wrapped homemade cheese sticks, her cheeks blushing so hard they looked ready to drip blood. "Hmph. Trading a few greasy sausages for a brand-new Chanel bag? Yeah, I’d be embarrassed too," Chloe suddenly chimed in from the side, a condescending smirk plastered across her face as she looked down at Wendy. "Wait, no, that’s not what I meant! Emma, I swear I wasn't trying to trade this for the bag!" Panic flared across Wendy's face, and she instinctively jerked her hands back to tuck the food away. Seeing how humiliated Wendy looked, I reached out, took the package gently, and gave her a reassuring smile. "They're just gifts. Honestly, I should be the one embarrassed for just throwing money around instead of putting real thought into it like you did." "Oh, so now I'm the bad guy for keeping it real?" Seeing my arm hooked warmly through Wendy's, Chloe’s face clouded over instantly. "Of course not! You just have a big sense of fairness," Mia jumped in to smooth things over, seeing the tension thick in the air. "We're all sharing a room now, so we’re basically family. No need to keep score!" Thanks to Mia's deliberate cheerleading, the awkward moment blew over, and the rest of the day went by smoothly. That night, as I was lying in bed chilling and catching up on a show, a notification popped up on my phone: Your friend Chloe just posted: 'Roommate gifts! They loved them so much.' Gifts? I tapped the notification instinctively. The picture attached was a glossy snapshot of the three Chanel bags. Wait, was my reading comprehension broken? I opened the comment section, fully intending to drop a heart emoji to clear things up. Then I caught the top-pinned comment that Chloe had already replied to: [Omg, Chanel?! Your roommates are so spoiled! Best roommate award goes to you again!] Chloe had replied with a bashful blushing emoji. Right. My lip twitched as I kept scrolling down. Someone else asked: [With a gift that pricey, what did the roommates get you in return?] It was as if Chloe had been waiting for that exact question. Within sixty seconds, she dropped a photo of Wendy's homemade cheese sticks right under the comment. [My roommate made them by hand. They're super yummy!] Predictably, the second that picture dropped, the comments turned into a dumpster fire of hate directed at Wendy. [It's totally fine, guys! A gift is a gift. Honestly, I still feel like I should have put more thought into mine.] Excuse me? Those were literally my exact words from earlier today. At this point, I let out a dry, incredulous laugh. "Chloe, you..." I spoke up, not even sure where to begin, only to see her frantically swiping on her screen before snapping her head up to look at me, wide-eyed. "Never mind." Forget it. Give people a shred of dignity. I’d drop a subtle hint later. I leaned back into bed, intending to go back and check the post, only to find it was already gone. Did she realize how trashy that looked and delete it herself? My opinion of her softened just a tiny bit.Knock, knock, knock! The door rattled. After Mia called out a casual "Come in!", two girls walked in arm-in-arm. They greeted Chloe with breathless excitement and immediately began scanning our dorm room. The second their eyes landed on the cheese sticks on Chloe's desk and the designer bag sitting on Wendy's, they gasped. "Shut up, it's actually real!" Mia, being the ultimate extrovert, popped her head out from her bed. "What's real?" "The bag, duh! God, I wish I had a roommate like this." "Haha, totally! But wait, how did you guys know Emma..." "Do you want to try some cheese sticks? They're really good!" Chloe cut Mia off with breathless urgency, shoving the snacks straight into their hands. Mia blinked, looking completely dazed by the sudden interruption. Only I knew that those girls had come over because they saw that deleted post before it went down. I watched Chloe desperately trying to keep her cool, then looked around the room she had decorated so nicely. Whatever. She wasn't entirely useless, and besides, the post was already gone. I chimed in to help smooth the conversation over, backing Chloe up to redirect the girls' attention out the door. Once she finally managed to see them out, Chloe let out a massive sigh of relief. Then she glanced down at the time on her screen, gasped dramatically, and reached straight for the main switch, plunging the entire room into pitch-black darkness. "Nine-thirty! Beauty sleep time, ladies. Goodnight!" "Goodnight," Wendy answered quietly from her desk, clicking on her little reading lamp. Mia turned on her phone's flashlight, looked like she wanted to protest, but ultimately sighed, drew her privacy curtain, and muted her phone game. Smack! A sharp, loud bang jolted me awake. I blinked blearily through the haze of sleep, squinting at the harsh light bleeding through the fabric of my curtains. "It's four in the morning, Chloe. What are you doing?" Mia's voice floated over, pitched low with obvious restraint. "Time to wake up, silly!" "Chloe, did you mess up the schedule? Freshman Orientation Week doesn't even start until eight-thirty," Wendy said, poking her head out. "Waking up early is amazing for your health." "Can you at least keep it down?" I sat up, fighting down the burning irritation rising in my throat. "Of course! Totally will!" Two minutes later, the bathroom erupted with the sound of rushing water, blasting endlessly. I endured it until she finally stepped out, then forced myself to ask her nicely again. "Got it, Emma! Go back to sleep!" What followed immediately was the incessant clicking and snapping of makeup compacts, paired with the rapid-fire clack-clack-clack of fingers slamming onto a desk. Classic. The girl was completely polite on the surface, but refused to change a damn thing. By morning, the three of us dragged ourselves out of bed with faint purple circles bruised under our eyes. Chloe, looking manicured from head to toe, gasped in horror when she turned to look at us. She instantly grabbed an expensive-looking eye cream from her vanity and held it out. "Oh no! Why does your skin look so wrecked? See, this is why I told you guys to get your beauty sleep!" "Chloe... do you think, maybe, it's because you were making a ton of noise this morning?" Wendy didn't take the cream. She hesitated for a second before blurting it out. "Wait, really? I'm so sorry! I'm just so used to early mornings, and honestly, I thought I was being super quiet. I'll be way more careful from now on." "Here, put some of this on first. It works miracles!" Chloe looked so completely devastated and apologetic that the sharp rebuke sitting on the tip of my tongue died right there. Later that afternoon, a new video popped up on my feed: A Day in the Life of a Bougie Aesthetic College Girl! 5:00 AM: Wake up. 5:10 AM: Morning routine—stamping cute floral cleaning gel into the toilet bowl for that fresh morning dopamine boost. 5:20 AM: Skincare, brushing teeth, and a natural, glowy soft-glam look. 5:50 AM: Roomies are still sound asleep! Using my silent infrared projected keyboard to study quietly. Unbelievable. Watching Chloe's video, my jaw practically hit the floor.That endless half-hour of running water in the bathroom? She was literally recording herself stamping floral toilet gel into the bowl. That obnoxious thumping on the desk? It was supposed to be a "silent keyboard so she wouldn't wake us up." A chaotic, loud three-hour ordeal had been chopped down into a curated two-hour aesthetic morning routine, presented in a five-minute video. If that wasn't social media fraud, I didn't know what was. In the final edit, Chloe had stripped all original audio, replacing it with gentle, lo-fi acoustic music that made the whole routine look whisper-quiet and zen. The comments blew up past ten thousand within hours, everyone raving about what an "angel roommate" she was. The few scattered comments questioning whether she was disturbing the girls in her room were instantly buried beneath a mountain of adoration. It rubbed me the wrong way, but after seeing Chloe apologize so profusely that morning and promising she only posted once a week anyway, we decided to let it slide. What we didn't expect was for that specific video to blow up to over a million likes. And in order to ride that algorithm wave, Chloe immediately bumped her upload schedule from once a week to twice a week. Which meant our mornings were routinely shattered by her early-morning sound effects. Every single time we brought it up, she put on the exact same contrite, wide-eyed apologetic act. Eventually, on Wendy's suggestion, I just started sleeping with earplugs. Even so, as Chloe's grindset ramped up, my health took a nosedive. And soon, it felt like more than just sleep deprivation. Rubbing my burning, bloodshot eyes, I opened the clinic app and booked a full medical workup. Over the last few days, both Mia and Wendy had broken out in weird red rashes all over their bodies, constantly feeling dizzy and exhausted no matter how much they slept. At first, they brushed it off as stress or climate adjustment. Only after I practically dragged them did they go get tested. Today, since I was heading that way, I picked up their lab results along with mine. When I got back to the dorm, all three of them were sitting inside. "Emma, you're back! What did the doctor say?" Chloe stepped forward, looping her arm sweetly through mine. I gave her a cold look and pulled my arm away. "Why don't we all take a look together? The doctor said these symptoms are caused by formaldehyde poisoning." "And this rash? He suspects it came from uncertified, substandard hygiene products." I slammed the stack of medical reports onto the center table. "Wait, what..." Mia started to speak, but Chloe instantly cut in. "Oh no! It's all my fault! I should've bought an air purifier with a formaldehyde filter back then! It has to be from the fresh paint the university slapped on the walls before move-in!" She talked frantically, whipping out her phone to open Amazon. "Save it." Chloe's thumb froze. I locked eyes with her and said, "Did the school only paint our dorm room, Chloe?" Mia's brain clicked into gear immediately, remembering the messages Chloe had sent in the group chat before school started: [Look guys, even though we have our own bathroom and loft beds, these walls are so gross, the mattresses are paper thin, and the curtains let in so much light. Why don't we all split the cost so I can do a total room makeover?] "Besides, formaldehyde doesn't just come from wall paint," I continued coolly. "I looked it up. Cheap, uncertified wallpaper off bargain sites is packed with it." I let my gaze drift slowly across the walls. "That's impossible! I spent forever picking out the best wallpaper!" "What about the mattress stuffing?" Chloe and I spoke at the exact same time. The moment the words left my mouth, the fake-sweet smile Chloe wore like a mask completely vanished. "N-No way. I ordered them in bulk together. Look at me, I'm totally fine!" I didn't bother arguing. I reached over to the desk, grabbed a pair of heavy-duty scissors, climbed up to my bed, and slashed open my mattress and comforter. Sure enough, stuffed inside were gray, shredded textile waste, chemical-smelling industrial scrap cotton, and raw, splintered fibers. "Then explain what this is." I hoisted the mangled bedding so the girls below could see. Mia and Wendy's faces drained of color. Forgetting entirely about where they were going to sleep tonight, they scrambled to grab scissors of their own. "What about yours, Chloe? Aren't you going to check?" Mia held her scissors, glaring at Chloe, whose eyes were darting everywhere but at us. "There's no point! Mine has to be the exact same! It's the seller's fault, I'll go demand a refund right now—" Ignoring her, I climbed straight onto Chloe's bed, scissors in hand, and sliced neatly through the seam of her mattress. Inside was clean, pristine, pure white virgin cotton. No wonder Chloe had insisted on handling the entire room renovation by herself from start to finish. It made pocketing the cash so ridiculously easy. I clearly remembered that because the three of us felt guilty about not doing any manual labor, we offered to cover the entire bill ourselves. Each of us had transferred Chloe five hundred dollars, telling her to keep whatever was left over as a thank-you fee. Had that generous gesture been the exact moment she decided we were suckers to be milked? "A three-dollar mattress off Wish. Impressive that you even managed to track that down," I scoffed. "How do you know that?!" "Image search, obviously." "Oh, and look what else I found." I stepped down from her bunk, holding the massive bulk-pack of toilet paper sitting on her shelf. "Looks like we found the culprit for our bacterial infections, too." Right after move-in, Chloe told us she had a brand sponsorship with a paper company and generously claimed she’d cover the entire dorm's toilet paper supply for all four years of college. True to her word, whenever the roll ran low, a new batch would magically appear. Feeling indebted and too awkward to just hand her cash for basic supplies, the three of us had taken over all dorm cleaning duties without complaint. "So you gave us toilet paper you wouldn't even touch yourself because you knew damn well it wasn't safe to use, didn't you?" Even Wendy, who was usually the gentlest soul on earth, was trembling with pure rage. "I didn't! I had no idea! I just... I have sensitive skin, that's all!" Chloe sobbed out apologies left and right, but stubbornly refused to admit any malicious intent. Except this time, none of us were falling for her fake crocodile tears. I walked right past her and looked at Mia and Wendy. "I'm filing for an emergency room reassignment. Are you guys coming with me?" They exchanged a look and nodded firmly. Chloe scrambled to block the door, her eyes red, staring at us with desperate, pleading eyes. "I'll buy you guys brand-new sets! I'll buy premium toilet paper from the pharmacy! We were getting along so well, please don't switch rooms, okay?" "Not happening. While you're standing there, you'd better calculate how much money you owe us. Fifteen hundred dollars could buy a whole warehouse of toxic trash mattresses." I shook my head, brushed past her shoulder, and walked out. Arm in arm with our medical reports and photos of the chopped-up mattresses, we went straight to our academic advisor's office. Our advisor looked through the papers, his face growing darker by the second. We thought he was furious at Chloe's behavior, until he opened his mouth.