
My Boyfriend’s Cheating Broadcast Went Viral
Chapter 3
I hadn't even finished setting up my response stream when my phone rang. Sarah's name flashed on the screen, her profile picture—us at a convention last year, peace signs and matching cat-ear headphones—a jarring reminder of simpler times.
"Mia! Oh my god, are you okay?" Her voice cracked with panic. "I was moderating the chat when it happened. I couldn't believe what I was hearing."
I pressed the phone to my ear, staring blankly at my reflection in the black screen of my monitor. "I'm..." What was I? Devastated? Humiliated? Furious? All of those words felt too small.
"I should have said something weeks ago," Sarah continued, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I've been seeing things—the way he acts when you're streaming, how he's always on his phone smiling at messages. I even saw him and Jessica talking at TwitchCon when you were doing that panel."
The room seemed to tilt beneath me. "You knew?"
"Not knew. Suspected." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I didn't want to hurt you without proof. I thought maybe I was reading too much into things, and I didn't want to ruin your relationship if I was wrong."
Loyalty. That's what Sarah had always given me. But this time, her silence had let me walk straight into public humiliation.
"I'm coming over," she said firmly. "Don't do anything until I get there."
"Too late," I murmured, glancing at my computer where I'd already titled my response stream. "I'm not letting him control this narrative, Sarah."
As if summoned by our conversation, my email notifications began pinging rapidly. GamerGirl Energy, my biggest sponsor: *Urgent discussion regarding our partnership agreement*. StreamSetup Pro: *Concerning recent developments*. Even my merchandise partner wanted an emergency call.
Of course. My humiliation wasn't just personal—it was business. My brand was built on authenticity and trust, and now three million people had watched me be completely blindsided by betrayal. My sponsors were probably already calculating the risk of association.
"The vultures are circling," I told Sarah bitterly, scrolling through the emails. "Everyone's worried about how this affects them."
"Screw them," Sarah said fiercely. "This isn't about their bottom line. This is about—wait, have you seen what Marcus is doing?"
"Marcus?" My stomach dropped. Marcus Kim, the streamer who'd been trying to poach my audience for months.
"He's live right now. 'STREAMER CATCHES BOYFRIEND CHEATING LIVE - REAL OR FAKE?' He's pretending to analyze whether you staged the whole thing, but he's just milking it for views."
I pulled up his stream on my second monitor. There he was, his face exaggerated in mock concern as he played the clip of my devastation on repeat, zooming in on my expression at the moment of realization.
"Some people are saying this is staged content," he was telling his audience, which had swelled to twice its normal size. "I mean, what are the odds her mic would pick that up accidentally? But look at her face here—" He froze the frame on my shocked expression. "That's either real pain or she deserves an Oscar."
I closed the tab, bile rising in my throat. "He's using my pain for content."
"Everyone is," Sarah said quietly. "It's everywhere."
I opened Twitter again, forcing myself to scroll through the thousands of comments. Some were supportive:
*@StreamQueen: Anyone defending that trash boyfriend can unfollow me right now. Team Mia forever.*
*@GamingWithGrace: The way she held it together when she realized... my heart is breaking for her.*
But others were cruel:
*@TruthBomb45: If she spent less time streaming and more time with her man, maybe he wouldn't have cheated #JustSaying*
*@RealTalkGaming: 100% staged for views. Nobody accidentally broadcasts their boyfriend cheating. Wake up, sheeple.*
Then I saw it—a thread from one of my regular viewers: *"Ryan's been in my DMs for months. I'm not the only one."* Attached were screenshots of messages from Ryan, flirtatious and inappropriate, dating back to January.
More replies flooded in beneath it. More screenshots. More women.
This wasn't just Jessica. This was systematic.
"Sarah," I said, my voice suddenly steady. "I need to go live. Now."
"Mia, wait—"
"No." I cut her off, a cold clarity replacing my shock. "This isn't just about me anymore. He's been manipulating all of us. And I'm going to make sure everyone sees the truth."
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