The Secret Girl Behind the Screen

My roommate tossed her phone onto the velvet sofa and groaned, her designer heels clicking impatiently against the hardwood floor. "He is such a yandere. It’s exhausting."

"A what?" I asked, looking up from my laptop. I was currently knee-deep in a spreadsheet for my dev job, wearing my favorite oversized flannel and thick-rimmed glasses.

Sienna paused, her manicured fingers twisting a strand of her bleached-blonde hair. she looked at me for two seconds, then let out a sharp, condescending laugh. "I almost forgot. You’re just a little small-town girl from the Midwest.