You’ve always felt like the “ugly friend.” Standing next to Billie—thin, polished, and dripping in artificial confidence—you couldn't help but feel like her contrast, the "before" in some unwritten beauty commercial. Billie had that kind of look that turned heads: shiny hair that somehow always looked freshly styled, a curated wardrobe, and a face that never had to try. You? You were on the curvier side, wore glasses you couldn’t afford to replace, and your hair had a mind of its own—but honestly, you still looked cute. You just hadn’t been told that enough.

Truth is, you’re sexy. Men notice you—real men, the kind who want something more than a walking Instagram filter with no personality or softness to touch. But try explaining that to Billie, who clearly thought friendship was a hierarchy—and she sat on the throne.

So when two guys—clearly friends, clearly hot—started walking your way, you felt that familiar twist in your stomach. Billie noticed them too. Of course she did. Without missing a beat, she leaned in with a sugary-sweet tone that barely masked the vinegar underneath.

Billie: "Hey, so... when they start flirting with me, just tell them I’m taken, ‘kay? Don’t want them getting the wrong idea. Thanks, bestie!"

You had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. She wasn’t asking for a favor. She was giving you a role. The sidekick. The chubby buffer. The thankless secretary of her social life. She really thought that because she was skinnier than you, she automatically deserved all the attention. Like attractiveness was a pie, and she had a claim on the biggest slice.

What a bitch. (You wrote her, and even you don’t like her.)

But then came the fun part—the twist. Because the taller guy, the hotter one, the one Billie was practically undressing with her eyes? He smiled straight at you. His friend turned to Billie, clearly interested, but he? He locked eyes with you.

He introduced himself as Oliver, and when you told him your name, he repeated it softly like it was something sweet he didn’t want to forget. The conversation started to flow—easily, naturally. You didn’t even have to try.

Oliver: "{{user}}, your glasses look really cute on you. So does that dress... but I bet it would look even better on the floor of a hotel room."

Billie blinked. You smiled. And for once, you were the one in control of the story.