Ficorpio
Chapter 1
My sister’s roommate was strange.
Sometimes she would deliberately walk past me in clothes that showed far more skin than necessary.
Other times, she would avoid me for days, acting as though she had something to hide.
I always assumed I was imagining things.
That was until one day, I came across a post from an anonymous account with no profile information:
I’ve fallen for my roommate’s boyfriend. He seems to like me too, but he doesn’t look like he plans to break up with my roommate. What am I supposed to do? I’m seriously going crazy!
I’m so confused. So torn. I was raised to know better than this. How could I… how could I become the other woman?
I can’t keep sinking like this. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to avoid him. Day zero of not liking him.
Today doesn’t count. Day zero of not liking him.
I didn’t sleep well last night, so it doesn’t count. Day zero of not liking him.
I have a cold, so it doesn’t count. Day zero of not liking him.
When I came back after break, I had three or four shopping bags hanging from each hand. I pounded on my sister’s dorm-room door.
“Claire! Open up! I can’t carry all this anymore!”
“Coming!”
The door finally opened.
I was completely wiped out. I collapsed into a chair and directed my sister to start unpacking.
“There’s the seasoned braised beef from home, some clothes Mom wanted me to bring you, and… you can see the rest for yourself.”
If Claire hadn’t stayed behind to make up a failed class, Mom wouldn’t have sent me to deliver all this stuff in the first place.
The sound of water from the bathroom seemed to grow quieter.
My sister appeared to remember something and called toward the bathroom.
“Emily, Ethan’s here to see me. Make sure you’re dressed before you come out.”
There was no answer.
Claire didn’t seem bothered. She simply kept unpacking.
When she opened a large bag filled with something pitch-black and impossible to identify, her hand trembled. She turned toward me in horror.
“This isn’t…”
“What do you think?” I replied weakly.
My mother was a powerhouse—a career woman who could handle anything life threw at her.
Anything except one seemingly harmless, yet genuinely terrifying hobby: baking.
With a single batch of cupcakes, she had earned the heroic distinction of sending the entire family to the hospital for stomach pumping on New Year’s Eve.
Claire shut her eyes and gritted her teeth.
“H-How did you not stop her? This stuff could kill someone!”
“Right. Because stopping Mom is so easy.”
If anyone could have stopped her, we wouldn’t have needed an annual stomach-pumping membership.
I was about to defend myself when a soft creak came from behind me.
The bathroom door opened.
I glanced over without thinking.
Then I couldn’t look away.
Emily was wearing nothing but a camisole, with a bath towel wrapped around her waist.
She gave me a languid look, then lifted one hand and pushed her wet hair back, revealing strikingly beautiful features.
Chapter 2
A drop of water slid from the ends of her hair down her cheek, then fell onto her delicate collarbone before disappearing between the curves below.
Claire turned around and nearly jumped out of her skin.
“Oh, come on… Emily, didn’t I tell you to get dressed before coming out?”
Emily looked away awkwardly.
“Did you? Sorry. I was thinking about something and didn’t hear you.”
“You couldn’t hear me in this terrible excuse for a soundproof room?”
Claire muttered under her breath, then waved dismissively.
“Never mind. Just go put some clothes on!”
Emily gave a casual nod, took a T-shirt from the closet, and disappeared back into the bathroom.
When she came out again, she was dressed properly.
The only problem was that a large section of the shirt over her chest was somehow soaked through.
The pale, firm curves beneath showed through faintly, and more than once, they caught my eyes before I could stop myself.
Claire disappeared into the bathroom, insisting on changing her clothes and curling her hair before we went out to eat.
Left alone, I found there was nowhere safe to look, so I buried myself in my phone.
Refresh.
Refresh again.
Then a post caught my eye.
[I Fell for My Roommate’s Boyfriend. What Do I Do?]
Messy. Shameless. Absolutely irresistible.
A little internet drama was exactly what I needed to distract myself.
I opened the thread eagerly.
[This isn’t some fake post for attention, and I’m not trying to build a following. I genuinely don’t know what else to do, so I came online for advice. Please don’t be too harsh.]
[Here’s the situation. My roommate has an incredibly handsome boyfriend. He’s two years younger than me, gets great grades, and has the sunniest smile. I like him so much…]
[Sorry. I’m getting off track. My heart started racing the first time I saw him.]
[I thought it was just a momentary attraction, but every time I saw him after that, I fell for him a little more.]
[Today, just now, I did something terrible to my roommate. I know I’m awful, but doesn’t she bear at least some responsibility for bringing her boyfriend back to our dorm?]
[Sorry, I got carried away. That isn’t what I meant. My roommate is innocent. I’m just jealous, and this is all my fault.]
[I’ll find some way to make it up to her. Money, favors, anything she wants, as long as she’s willing to give me her boyfriend.]
[I’ve never been in a situation like this before, so I wanted to ask if anyone has experience being the other woman. Of course, I’m not saying I intend to become the other woman. I’m only asking so I can be prepared.]
The post had only been up for a short while, but it had already attracted more than a thousand comments.
[So literally anyone can post online now, even someone trying to steal her roommate’s boyfriend.]
Chapter 3
The original poster replied: [Please don’t call me that. I’m not the other woman. At least, not yet.]
A commenter responded: [“Not yet”??? Like it would be fine if you actually became one?]
[Please come to your senses. Don’t ruin their relationship.]
[Girl, after all that, has it never occurred to you to control yourself and stop chasing your roommate’s boyfriend?]
The poster replied: [You don’t understand. He’s exactly my type. If you were me, you’d also end up going down this road where I’m not quite the other woman and she’s not quite my roommate anymore.]
Another commenter cut in: [Wait, wait. Back up. What exactly did you do that was so terrible?]
The poster answered: [My head was a little foggy after my shower, so I deliberately appeared in front of him wearing nothing but a camisole. Looking back, I’m so ashamed. I actually tried to use my body to make him stay. Where are my morals? Where are my boundaries…?]
The comment section was stunned.
[So you’ve been agonizing over this online for ages, but when it came time to seduce him, you didn’t hesitate at all?]
[How did your roommate’s boyfriend react? You’re killing me. Tell us!]
The poster replied: [That’s the most important part. He stared at me for a long time. He didn’t look away for even a second. Do you think that means he might like me too?]
One commenter delivered a brutal verdict: [Maybe he just likes looking.]
[Does the poster have a good figure? Are we talking 36D? Because if so, I’d look too. Why waste the opportunity?]
The poster replied with a single word.
[Yes.]
The comment section exploded.
[Okay, listen to me. Take a picture right now and send it over. I’ll be able to tell at a glance who’s in the wrong.]
[Don’t scam her, dude. What if she actually believes you?]
Within minutes, thousands of replies had piled up beneath the comment, all demanding pictures.
The poster finally responded helplessly: [Please stop messaging me to ask for photos. I’m a very traditional person. I would never show my body to random strangers.]
After getting worked up for so long, the commenters immediately turned on her.
[Oh, now you’re traditional? You sure got undressed fast enough in front of your roommate’s boyfriend!]
This was incredible.
By the time I finished reading, I was laughing so hard my shoulders were shaking.
I tapped into the poster’s profile.
It looked like a throwaway account. There was nothing on the page except that one thread, and even the username was a meaningless string of letters and numbers.
The profile picture showed an orange kitten. When I enlarged it, I noticed a hand at the edge of the photo, resting lightly on the kitten’s back.
There was a tiny mole near the wrist bone.
For some reason, it looked familiar.