Chapter 4: Cancel or Crown Me

"Am I the only one seeing this?? Like, it's not even day four yet and the drama in that house is already giving season finale energy. But here's the kicker, most of y'all are too blinded by Eric's jawline and fake humility to see what's really going on."

I paused the recording, leaned in closer to the ring light, adjusted the brightness, and hit resume. This vlog was about to pop.

"I'm talking hardcore delusion. Y'all remember that sob story Eric gave in episode two? About being misunderstood, just looking for a connection, wanting to 'start over'? Puh-lease. I did what any sane person with Wi-Fi would do — I googled his ass."

Click.

I flashed the browser on the screen. "Boom! Eric Ross, CEO of Ross Inc. You know, the same Ross Inc. controlling like half the construction contracts in this damn city? Heck I say even this country. The same one always making headlines for luxury towers, yacht parties, and scandalous breakups. And this man's on You Get Me pretending to be some humble king of heartbreak?? BRUUUUV. I'm un-fanning immediately!"

I threw my hands up, letting the moment sizzle.

"Like if you're genuinely looking for love, cool. We stan vulnerability. But don't show up undercover like some billionaire Batman trying to fish out a 'real one'. It's manipulative. It's cringe. And most importantly, it's fake!"

I grabbed my phone, pulled up Twitter on screen, and began reading tweets in my best dramatic voice.

"#TeamEric: 'Omg he's so humble.'"

"#FindingTrueLove: 'Eric has to lie to find who's really for him.'"

"#ManOfThePeople: 'He deserves the world.'"

I rolled my eyes so hard I saw my past lives.

"Please. Y'all are rooting for a man who hasn't told a single person in that house who he actually is. How is that romantic?? That's deception. That's future trust issues. That's therapy bills waiting to happen!"

I leaned closer to the lens and stared deep into it.

"And let's just say, hypothetically, that he ends up with someone and she's not built to handle that kind of world? People spiral over stuff like this. Insecurity, paranoia, pressure. It's not just love on the line, it's a life."

I paused to catch my breath because, honestly I was on a roll. Anyways, it's time to hit them with the outro.

"Anyway, if you enjoyed this video and my spicy updates, don't forget to hit that like button, subscribe, and follow me on X @entertainment.portal. I'll be in the comments this week, replying to every single one of you, even the Eric simps. Bring it on."

As I hit 'upload', Mom's voice echoed from the hallway.

"Deary, do you think it's wise to be on the opposing team? Everyone and their mothers are drooling over Eric. If you want to hit it big, you should be rooting for him, not attacking."

I sighed, swiveling in my chair. "Mom, it's weird hearing you thirst over Eric."

She chuckled. "I'm just saying. Be on the winning team for once. It won't kill you."

"Business is booming, thank you very much. Have you seen my analytics lately?"

She shrugged and disappeared down the hall. Moms. Always rooting for the hottest guy in the room like it's a K-drama.

I was still high off the energy of the post when I realized I needed groceries. Big mistake. I should've worn literally anything other than this oversized sweatshirt and crusty sandals. I looked like I was running from my past.

Stepping into the store, I barely made it two aisles in before a lady lifted her phone and aimed it at me.

"Oh no, ma'am. No pictures allowed," I said, holding up a hand.

She sneered, loud enough for nearby shoppers to hear. "Why? Because you don't just talk trash, you look it too?"

I blinked. Excuse me??

And just like that, two more people joined in, all filming. Eric stans. Ugh. Of course.

Fine. Gloves off.

I pulled out my phone, flipped to selfie mode, and let the tears prick at my eyes, voice trembling just enough to sell it.

"Hey everyone. I'm being bullied by Eric fans. For nothing. This is what happens when you speak your truth. This is humiliating. Please... stand against bullying, I know we still have freedom of speech in America."

Click. Post. Insta. TikTok. Twitter. Everywhere.

The effect was instant. Half of them dispersed, suddenly bashful and whispering among themselves. One girl looked like she'd just flunked a church confession. Good.

An older woman wheeled up to me near the dairy section, her face lined with concern.

"My dear, I saw what happened. No matter what you've said online, nobody deserves that kind of treatment. I'm so sorry."

I blinked, genuinely touched. "Thank you, ma'am. I guess that's just how things are now."

She placed a hand on her chest. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

Maybe I should audition for film school. I'm killing it out here.

Back home, showered and sipping iced tea, I curled up on the couch with my phone. Notifications were wild. My views were climbing. Comments were a battlefield. DMs flooded with both love and death threats. Classic internet.

But then, something different: a Gmail notification.

Subject line: Interview Request – Jamey Frodd Show

I blinked. Sat up straighter.

No. Way.

I opened it, hands shaking. It was legit.

A one-on-one sit-down with Jamey Frodd — the king of controversial interviews, the viral whisperer, the platform that makes or breaks people in the industry.

I clutched my chest like a soap opera star. Breathe in... exhale. Again.

"Fate," I whispered, grinning. "You finally looking my way, sis?"

Because this wasn't just a win. This was a moment.

The interview could catapult me into mainstream relevance. From controversial YouTuber to verified voice of the people. And maybe, just maybe, this would push me into a seat at the table — brand deals, partnerships, the whole nine yards.

Oh, I knew what was coming. The Eric army would be out for blood. But I wasn't backing down. Not anymore.

I had momentum. I had receipts. And best believe, I had plans.

So crown me or cancel me, either way, I'm getting paid.