She Imitated My Life to Steal My Love

After learning that I had a monthly living allowance of 500,000 dollars, my childhood friend and boyfriend, Scarlet Voss, started copying everything I did.

I had naturally curly hair—so she curled her long, straight black hair.

I got a new manicure—she took a photo of it and visited twenty different salons just to replicate it.

I wore luxury brands—she skipped classes, took on five part-time jobs a day, and bought the same ones.

At first, I thought she was just a harmless copycat. But a month later, I was diagnosed with a terminal illness and died swiftly.

As I closed my eyes for the last time, the family who once adored me didn’t even come to say goodbye. Instead, they patted my roommate’s head and called her by my name.

I was devastated. What on earth had happened?

After death, my soul lingered—and drifted toward Scarlet Voss.

She had moved into my room and was curled up in my boyfriend's arms, smiling smugly.

“Thank you, Brother Ethan,” she said sweetly. “If you hadn’t helped fund me, I’d never have had the money to imitate her, steal her luck through the system, and become her. Everything she had is mine now.”

So that’s where it all went wrong—it was the system she used.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Scarlet first asked to perm her hair like mine.

——

The sound of a camera shutter broke the silence, followed by a flash. Scarlet, who was secretly taking pictures again, quickly hid her phone.

Beside me, my friend Sabrina Kaye leaned over and whispered in my ear:

“Celeste, want me to check if she’s taking photos of you? Lately, I always catch her pointing her phone at you—she’s like an obsessed fan. I really can’t take it anymore.”

I shook my head and gestured for her to ignore it.

In my past life, I’d confronted her—demanded she hand over the photos.

But her phone was empty, and I ended up being accused of bullying her.

That same night, her previously straight hair was suddenly permed to match mine—same color, same curl, same length.

After that, even my friends began mistaking her for me from behind.

Remembering the system she mentioned, I texted my personal stylist:

“Sis, I’m tired of my curls. Design me a hairstyle that’s so unique no one can copy it. Do it well, and I’ll give you a bonus.”

She was excited and sent a photo right away: a team of seven or eight stylists in a design meeting for my new look.

I smiled, locked my phone, and turned to Tessa Wynn.

“Let’s go get haircuts later. Invite Lydia Quinn too—my treat.”

“Alright! But only if you let Lydia and me treat you to dinner after. We don’t want to mooch off you all the time.”

I was about to reply when Scarlet’s shrill voice interrupted from behind.

“Where are you eating? Why didn’t you invite me? We’re dormmates—why are you excluding me? Celeste, do you think you’re better than me?”

Her voice was so loud that it drew the attention of the entire class.

Noticing everyone’s stares, she immediately switched to a pitiful tone and lowered her head.

“I know you’re all from wealthy local families. I’m just a girl from a small town—you must all look down on me. But I really just want to be friends.”

But her idea of friendship?

Every time we went out, she used her supposed poverty to dodge the bill.

Whenever we insisted she pay, she guilt-tripped us with sob stories—how hard her life was, how little she had.

After enough of that, none of us wanted to hang out with her anymore.

Just as I was about to pull out my phone and show everyone the evidence, Ethan Granger—my boyfriend and the class monitor—suddenly jumped out like some white knight.

“Celeste, didn’t I tell you already? I can’t stand domineering girls. Just because your family has a bit of money doesn’t mean you can bully others!”