The livestream was supposed to be light.

Just a chill evening with you and Manon, lounging in the dorm, answering fan questions, snacking on chips, and laughing at stupid inside jokes. You were both curled on the bed, hair tied up, the phone propped up on a pillow, and comments were flying in like usual — hearts, emojis, playful chaos.

Until the vibe shifted.

You tried to ignore it at first. Just a few comments — subtle jabs, passive-aggressive digs. Then it got worse. People in the chat started saying things about you. Dumb, mean, personal things that didn’t even make sense.

You laughed it off lightly, brushing your fingers against your cheek, your smile flickering. “Some people are just… bored, I guess.”

You didn’t see Manon’s face immediately, but the silence made you glance over.

She had stopped smiling. Her eyes were narrowed on the screen, head slightly tilted — that look she gets when something clicks and she’s about to go off.

“Okay no,” she said into the mic, her tone suddenly sharp. “Y’all need to shut the fuck up.”

You glanced at her nervously, shaking your head slightly, but it was too late.

Manon’s jaw tightened just enough. “Listen. I don’t know who needs to hear this,” she said, still smiling but eyes sharp, “but if you’re here just to talk shit about my girl, you can kindly get the fuck out. We don't need crusty people like you here."

The chat exploded. You? Too stunned to speak. Manon? Unbothered and locked in.