Spoiling The Unfiltered Goddess With My Wealth

The next evening, Chelsi sat at her desk an hour early. She wore a clean, simple white t-shirt. She had brushed her dark hair until it fell in smooth waves over her shoulders. She took a deep breath, her stomach fluttering with nervous energy. She opened the Apex app. This time, she went into the settings and permanently disabled every single AR beauty plugin. She tapped Go Live. The moment the stream connected, over a thousand people who had followed her the night before instantly flooded the room. Good morning, angel! She's real! The face is real! No filter queen! Chelsi read the comments. A massive, genuine smile broke across her face. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, radiating a pure, magnetic warmth that made it impossible to look away. "Hi everyone," she said softly, her shoulders finally relaxing. "I just use a basic drugstore moisturizer, actually." Suddenly, a bright gold notification box popped up at the top of her screen. It was a PK challenge request. The challenger was Rowan Croft, a highly popular streamer in the beauty category with over ten thousand current viewers. Chelsi's stomach tightened. The memory of last night's humiliation made her hands sweat. But the chat was cheering her on, telling her it was great exposure. She bit her lower lip, hesitated for a second, and clicked the green Accept button. The screen split. On the right side sat Rowan. She was heavily contoured, wearing a tight, low-cut red dress. Her background was an expensive wall of pink faux fur. Rowan took one look at Chelsi's flawless, bare face. A flash of pure, venomous jealousy sparked in Rowan's eyes, but she instantly covered it with a sickly sweet, fake smile. "Hiii, Chelsi!" Rowan cooed, her voice pitched unnaturally high. "I saw your clips from last night. So crazy! You're so lucky." Chelsi nodded politely, her hands gripping her knees under the desk. She didn't pick up on the passive-aggressive tone. "Thank you, Rowan. Nice to meet you." "So," Rowan said, leaning forward to show off her cleavage. "To make this fun, we need a spicy penalty. How about... the loser has to change into something sexy and do a three-minute hip-grinding dance?" Chelsi's polite smile instantly vanished. Her chest seized up. She couldn't even speak loudly in public without blushing, let alone dance provocatively for thousands of strangers. She frantically waved her hands in front of the camera. "Oh, no, I can't. I really can't dance. I'm stiff as a board. Let's do something else." Rowan's smile dropped. She pouted her lips and looked at her camera with fake sadness. "Wow," Rowan sighed dramatically. "Is Chelsi looking down on me? You won't even give a smaller creator some face? That's kind of mean." Rowan's fans immediately swarmed Chelsi's chat. Pick-me girl! She thinks she's too good for us. Boring! Play the game or quit! The moral kidnapping hit Chelsi hard. Her throat closed up. Her eyes stung with the threat of tears. Under the crushing pressure of the chat, she gave a tiny, defeated nod. Rowan's lips curled into a victorious sneer. She immediately hit the Start PK button. Meanwhile, miles away in a multi-million-dollar Manhattan penthouse, Kamron Cooper was pacing violently across his living room. He had been watching Chelsi's stream on his phone for the past ten minutes. When he heard Rowan demand the sexy dance, Kamron's blood boiled. He gripped the aluminum soda can in his hand so hard it crumpled and burst, spilling liquid onto his expensive rug. He refused to let thousands of degenerate men watch that innocent girl humiliate herself. He couldn't use his Morningstar account. If he did, the internet would brand him a simp, and it would bring massive toxic drama to Chelsi's door. He threw the crushed can aside and grabbed his backup iPad. He quickly opened Apex. He was already logged into a clean, pre-verified backup account he kept for PR emergencies, securely linked to an untraceable corporate Black Card. He just needed to change the display name. The app asked for a username. Kamron glanced at the kitchen island. Sitting there was a bowl of healthy millet porridge his mother had forced his chef to make. He typed in Millet. With zero followers and a default grey avatar, Millet quietly slipped into Chelsi's live stream. The PK had been running for thirty seconds. Rowan's established fanbase was easily crushing Chelsi. The blue bar was dominating the screen. Kamron stared at Chelsi. She was biting her lip, looking absolutely terrified of the impending penalty. Kamron let out a dark, angry scoff. He tapped the screen, opening the highest tier of the gift panel.