The Flatline on the Final Stream

My mom was so furious she slapped me right there. Brodie threw the custom birthday cake from my favorite bakery into the trash, saying, "You make me sick."

"The Mayo report proves you're fine!" Mom's voice shook with rage as she slapped me again.

"You killed your father, and now you're trying to fake an illness to get our sympathy. How can you be so selfish!"

From that moment on, they saw me as nothing but a liar. I tried to explain, but they wouldn't believe me. I didn't understand where that perfect health report came from either. Not until later, when Crystal smugly showed me the transaction records from a web hacker she'd hired.

"This thing cost me a fortune. It can forge a report from any top medical institution!"

Snapping out of the memory, I dragged my aching body up from the floor. Just then, Brodie walked in.

"Let's go. We're going to dinner. And stop with the fake illness act."

He saw the bloodstains on the floor and stopped mid-sentence, his brow furrowed. "Georgia, can you just drop the act? You're only making us hate you more."

I met his deep-set eyes, now filled with nothing but disappointment.

We were high school sweethearts, went to college together, and started our careers together. When my mom and Alec were giving me the cold shoulder after my adoptive father's death, it was Brodie who held me and said, "It doesn't matter if your mom and brother don't love you. I do. I'll always love you. Always."

"And that Crystal who bullies you? I'll make her pay for it one day!"

But at some point, Crystal started joining our dates. He said Crystal was like my little sister and we should take care of her together. Our world for two became a crowded three.

Then, he went from defending me to scolding me. Crystal had just lost her family, he'd say. She was pitiful. As the "older sister," I should be more understanding. The Brodie who had promised to adore me, to love me no matter what, had vanished right before my eyes.

"Brodie, let's break up," I said calmly, wiping the blood from the corner of my mouth.

Something unreadable flickered in his eyes. He rushed over and grabbed my shoulders.

"Is it because I interrupted your stream today? Georgia, can't you just be a little kinder? You're already so lucky!"

"You have a brother, you have me, and your family is wealthy. But Crystal is just a poor girl being fostered by your family."

I gave a bitter smile. Me, lucky?

My brother hated me. My boyfriend was no longer just mine. Even when I told my mom I was sick, she didn't believe me.

Is this what being lucky looked like?

"I still want to break up."

The pain in my chest was intensifying. Last week, Dr. Finch told me I only had a week left. The strong painkillers he prescribed could only dull the pain enough for me to appear normal on the outside.

This past week, I had been streaming, earning donations to afford a decent funeral. I wanted to leave this world with dignity. It would be the last gift I gave myself.

"Fine. If this is what you want, then we'll break up," Brodie said, storming out in a rage.

After he left, I felt a sense of relief. To my surprise, the breakup was clean, almost sterile, lacking the heart-shattering agony I'd braced myself for.

A moment later, I received an anonymous message from Crystal.

"How are you feeling today?"

"Haha! How does it feel to watch your precious fiancé stop defending you?"

I didn't reply. I just took a screenshot of our conversation. My phone's photo album was already full of our chat logs. I hoped that one day, everyone would see the truth.