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In Beauty, Fashion and Lifestyle • 6 min read •
The Price of Being Popular

THE PRICE OF BEING POPULAR


Chapter One: Everybody Wants to Know Me


Amara's POV


If someone had told me that becoming popular would be the worst decision of my life, I would have laughed in their face.


Back then, I thought popularity meant having people greet you everywhere you went, getting invited to parties, wearing expensive clothes, and having people wish they were you.


I wanted all of that.


And when I finally got it, I realized that some things were better left as dreams.


But let me start from the beginning.


My name is Amara Williams, a 19-year-old university student who was practically invisible on campus.


I wasn't ugly. I wasn't stupid. I wasn't boring either.


I was just... ordinary.


I attended lectures, ate in the school cafeteria, returned to my hostel, and spent most of my evenings talking to my roommate and best friend, Nneka.


Nobody knew me beyond that.


And honestly, I didn't mind.


Until one Monday morning changed everything.


"Amara, have you seen this?" Nneka screamed, practically throwing her phone at my face.


I blinked sleepily. "Seen what? It's not even seven o'clock. Allow me to rest in peace."


"Girl, wake up! You're famous!"


I sat up immediately.


"Famous ke? Did I win a lottery in my sleep?"


She rolled her eyes and shoved her phone into my hands.


It was a video.


A video of me confronting a guy who had been publicly embarrassing a female student in the cafeteria the previous Friday.


I remembered that day clearly.


The girl had accidentally spilled a drink on his designer shoes. Instead of letting it go, he called her names and made everyone laugh at her.


I couldn't stand it.


So I told him exactly what I thought of his behavior.


Apparently, someone had recorded the entire thing.


And now?


The video had over fifty thousand views.


The caption read:


"QUIET GIRL DESTROYS CAMPUS BIG BOY WITH JUST WORDS!"


I stared at the screen.


"Wait. This is me?"


"No, it's your village twin," Nneka replied sarcastically. "Of course it's you!"


Before I could say anything, my phone started buzzing.


Friend requests.


Messages.


Notifications.


People I had never spoken to were suddenly calling me their favorite person.


Somebody even created a fan page with my picture.


I laughed nervously.


"This is crazy."


"No, babe," Nneka said, grabbing my shoulders. "This is your breakthrough!"


I smiled.


For the first time in my life, people were noticing me.


And a small part of me loved it.


I just didn't know how expensive that attention would become.


---


By Wednesday, my life had changed completely.


People greeted me in lecture halls. Girls asked for pictures with me. Guys suddenly found reasons to sit beside me.


A popular fashion brand even sent me a message asking me to promote their clothes.


Me?


Amara Williams?


The same girl who once spent an entire semester eating lunch alone?


I couldn't believe it.


Then came the invitation.


It was from Cassandra Okafor.


If popularity had a face on our campus, Cassandra was it.


She was beautiful, rich, confident, and always surrounded by people. Her Instagram page was filled with expensive outfits, vacation pictures, and videos of parties I could only dream of attending.


She had never spoken to me before.


Not once.


But that afternoon, she walked up to me after class, smiled, and said, "Hey, Amara. I've been looking for you."


I almost checked behind me to see if she was talking to someone else.


"Me?"


She laughed. "You're funny. Yes, you."


She complimented my appearance, asked for my number, and invited me to her birthday party that weekend.


I was speechless.


When she left, Nneka grabbed my arm.


"Do you know who that is?"


"Of course I do."


"Then you know your life is about to change!"


I laughed, but something about the whole situation felt strange.


Why was Cassandra suddenly interested in me?


Still, I pushed the thought aside.


Maybe she genuinely liked me.


Maybe this was the beginning of something beautiful.


I accepted the invitation.


And that was my second mistake.


---


Saturday night was everything I had imagined.


The music was loud. The lights were beautiful. Everyone looked expensive.


I wore a black dress Nneka helped me choose, and for the first time, I felt like I belonged in a room full of people who seemed to have everything.


Cassandra introduced me to her friends.


They complimented my looks, asked about my viral video, and told me how much they admired my confidence.


One guy even asked for my number.


I was beginning to understand why people loved being popular.


The attention was addictive.


Then Cassandra handed me a glass of juice.


"Come on, Amara. Relax. You're among friends."


I smiled and took it.


Later that night, she pulled me aside for a selfie.


"Let's take one for my story!"


We posed, laughed, and took several pictures.


Everything seemed perfect.


Until I went to the bathroom and overheard two girls talking outside.


"Do you think she'll actually do it?" one asked.


"I don't know. But Cassandra says she's desperate to stay relevant."


They laughed.


My heart skipped.


Stay relevant?


Do what?


I stepped closer to the door, hoping to hear more.


Then one of them said something that made my stomach turn.


"Imagine being so desperate for attention that you agree to destroy your own best friend."


I froze.


My best friend?


Nneka?


Before I could hear anything else, their footsteps approached, and I quickly returned to the party.


I searched for Cassandra, but she was nowhere to be found.


Then I saw her near the staircase, talking to a guy I recognized from campus.


He handed her his phone.


She looked at the screen, smiled, and whispered something in his ear.


A few seconds later, they both looked in my direction.


And laughed.


I wanted to ask what was happening, but my courage failed me.


I told myself I was overthinking.


After all, Cassandra was my friend now.


Wasn't she?


---


I returned to the hostel a little after midnight.


Nneka was still awake, sitting on her bed with her laptop.


"How was the party?" she asked without looking up.


"Amazing."


She nodded.


Then she turned her laptop toward me.


"Amara, I need you to explain something."


My smile disappeared.


On the screen was a picture of me at the party, holding the glass Cassandra had given me.


Beneath it was a post that had already started gaining attention.


"CAMPUS GOOD GIRL FINALLY SHOWS HER TRUE COLORS. WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE WHAT SHE DID TO HER BEST FRIEND."


I stared at the screen, confused.


"What is this?"


Nneka looked at me.


"I was hoping you could tell me."


My phone began buzzing again.


One message after another.


Then a video appeared.


My hands trembled as I pressed play.


It showed me at the party, standing beside Cassandra.


But that wasn't what frightened me.


It was what I heard.


My own voice.


Saying something I had never said.


Something cruel.


Something that could destroy my friendship with Nneka.


I watched the video twice.


Then a third time.


"No," I whispered. "This isn't real."


Nneka slowly closed her laptop.


"Amara, tell me the truth. Did you really say those things about me?"


I opened my mouth, but no words came out.


Because I had no explanation.


And just when I thought things couldn't get worse, another message came in from an unknown number.


I opened it.


UNKNOWN NUMBER: Welcome to the top, Amara. If you want to stay there, do exactly what Cassandra tells you.


My blood ran cold.


A second message followed.


UNKNOWN NUMBER: Or we'll show everyone the real reason you became famous.


I stared at the screen, my heart pounding.


What real reason?


I had done nothing wrong.


At least, that's what I believed.


Then the sender sent one final message.


UNKNOWN NUMBER: Ask your best friend what happened last year. She knows why Cassandra chose you.


I slowly lifted my eyes toward Nneka.


She was already staring at me.


And the expression on her face told me one thing.


She knew something.


Something she had never told me.


TO BE CONTINUED...


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