Luxury Lies: My Roommate's Secret Life

In my dormitory, there was a poor student. With all the good intentions in the world, my roommates and I were eager to help her, not realizing how much our help would cost.

She wasn't impressed by the hairdryer we offered, insisting on borrowing a branded one instead. The skincare products we gave her? They were applied to her feet. And, as if that wasn't enough, she specifically demanded luxury face cream.

One day, I lent her my tablet to look up some information, and to my surprise, she secretly opened up my gaming app, spent all the diamonds and reward tickets I had saved for half a year, and left me empty-handed.

When I asked her to pay me back, she turned the tables and posted a public message online, accusing me. "I'm just a poor student from the countryside, never played games before. Are the materials in the game really worth this much?"

Before I knew it, the comment section was flooded with criticisms of me. In a fit of frustration, I fired back with a post of my own, throwing her into the spotlight. "Well, I suppose you've never tasted the bitterness of being cyberbullied, have you?"

"Scarlett, did you open my Revista shampoo?"

I held up the freshly opened bottle of shampoo, shoving it right under Scarlett Newman's nose, who was busy drying her hair. She stopped and looked at me with a face full of innocence.

"I saw it was for repairing damaged hair," she said, shrugging slightly. "My hair's so rough, I thought I'd give it a try. What's the problem?"

I took a deep breath, pushing down my irritation, and turned to put the shampoo back in the cabinet.

On the first day of university, Scarlett had introduced herself to the class as a poor, countryside girl. Our advisor had kindly urged us to lend her a hand and be more accommodating, so helping her had become a daily routine.

But she never seemed satisfied with ordinary things. No, she always wanted the high-end, luxury items, and was constantly asking to borrow them.

I placed the bottle back, turned, and looked at her, speaking slowly, one word at a time.

"I told you before, you can use those bottles of Rejoice. This one's a gift from a friend—I hadn't even planned on opening it..."

"Joyce, are you afraid I might break it...?"

Scarlett lowered her eyes, her voice small and muffled.

"I know, I'm just a poor girl from the countryside. I've never used anything nice, so I understand if you're worried..."

"No, I—"

"Ugh, it's just Revista shampoo. What's the big deal?" Lily Becker's voice cut through mine, her words dismissive. "Scarlett, go ahead and use mine—the one in a black bottle."

Lily, who had been lying on the upper bunk, poked her head out from behind the curtain with a look of disdain, interrupting my attempt to explain.

Scarlett smiled gratefully at her, then glanced at me with a little sneer and went back to drying her hair.

Lily was the most well-off in our dorm, and when it came to Scarlett's relentless demands, she was always generously willing to fulfill them, throwing a sneer at me and Jasmine for being petty, accusing us of not being helpful at all.

For someone like Lily, with her background, it was nothing to help Scarlett out, but for Jasmine and me, it was a different story. Our families were already struggling, and it felt like we were being asked to give even more to feed Scarlett's vanity.

Once, I lent her a brand-new bottle of toner, only for her to return it half-used, claiming she thought toner was meant for all-over body application. And the 20ml eye cream? She used half of it, slathering it on thick around her eyes as a mask, blinking up at me and saying, "The bloggers online all do it this way."

Over time, Jasmine and I grew weary of lending her our good stuff. Helping out is one thing, but there's a limit to how much you can sacrifice for someone else's vanity.

Scarlett didn't ask us for daily necessities anymore. Instead, she turned her attention to our electronics.

"Joyce, is this the latest iPad? Can I try it? I've only ever seen it in ads."

Electronics don't lose anything from being used a bit more—they might drain a little battery, but that's about it. And with some of the assignments lately requiring research, Scarlett had nothing but her phone. So, I figured, why not?

I handed her the tablet, giving her the password as I did.

"Hey, this is the popular game everyone's talking about, isn't it? Can I try playing?"