Chapter 1

The ring light cast a soft glow across Savannah’s face as she stared at the chat box, her smile feeling tighter with every passing second. The stream had started strong—over a thousand viewers, all eager to see her, to interact, to comment on how amazing she looked. But two hours later, the numbers had dwindled. Only a few hundred remained, and the chat had grown quieter. She scrolled through the sparse comments, feeling the energy in the room fizzle.

chatterman007: "when are you going to do another cosplay stream"
ilovemommymilkers: "savvy, you're looking... different today - still cute tho."

Different. That word had been creeping into her streams more often lately. Her eyes flicked to the small box in the corner of the screen where her own image reflected back at her—a carefully curated version of herself, but not one she entirely recognized anymore. She shifted in her chair, adjusting her posture, but no matter how she moved, she couldn’t ignore the way her clothes felt a little too tight.

She forced a bright smile. "Okay, guys, I think that’s it for tonight! Thanks for hanging out—same time tomorrow, alright?"

She clicked to end the stream, and the screen instantly went dark, leaving her alone in her apartment. The silence hit her like a wave, stark and oppressive after hours of performing for the camera. Savannah sat back in her chair, pulling off her headset with a sigh, rubbing her temples. The tightness around her chest wasn’t just from the hoodie; it was the weight of exhaustion, of knowing that the spark that had once fueled her streams was fading.

She picked up her phone, hoping for a distraction, but the notifications were a painful reminder of what had changed. A few tips trickled in from her loyal followers—mostly the same creeps who had stuck around through her decline. She scrolled through her latest Instagram post, the one she had uploaded before the stream, and winced at the lackluster engagement. A handful of comments, a couple of likes—nothing like the flood of attention she used to get.

Tossing the phone onto her desk, Savannah stood and stretched, her body protesting from sitting for so long. Her fingers tugged at the hem of her oversized hoodie, pulling it off in a swift motion, leaving her in just her leggings and a cropped tank top. She wandered over to the full-length mirror propped up against the wall, the one she avoided looking at most days. Her reflection stared back at her, unfamiliar in all the worst ways. She tugged at the waistband of her leggings, feeling the slight muffin top that had started to form over the past year. Her once-flat stomach was soft now, and her thighs—she couldn’t ignore how much fuller they looked, how the fabric of her leggings stretched just a little too tight. It hadn’t happened overnight. The weight had come gradually, sneaking up on her in small, imperceptible ways, until suddenly, it was impossible to ignore.

A year ago, she wouldn’t have recognized herself. Back then, her streams were buzzing with energy. She was at her peak—fit, glowing, her confidence radiating through every frame. Brands had flooded her inbox with offers. Fans had clamored for her attention, praising her looks, her style, her content. She had been on top of the world, untouchable.

And then, slowly, it had all started to slip away.

She turned to the side, her eyes tracing the curve of her stomach, the way it now pushed slightly against her waistband. Her hands rested on her hips, feeling the unfamiliar softness. She had tried to ignore the changes for as long as she could, but the chat had started noticing months ago. And once the comments started, they hadn’t stopped.

Savannah’s chest tightened, a familiar pang of insecurity creeping in. She had never been the type to let herself go, had prided herself on looking good, on being someone her audience could admire. But now, when she looked in the mirror, all she saw was someone who had lost control. Her fingers ran absentmindedly over the soft swell of her belly, her thoughts spiraling back to the past year.


She knew exactly when it had started—when the numbers first began to dip, when the sponsorships slowed down, and the once-thriving chat began to feel… quieter. The pressure to keep up appearances had become suffocating, and with it came the late-night binge sessions. At first, it had been a way to cope, something to fill the void left by her fading popularity. But the more she indulged, the harder it became to stop. The food, the comfort of eating, it had become the only thing that made her feel good after a long day of pretending everything was fine.

Her phone buzzed on the desk, breaking the silence. Savannah sighed and glanced at the screen. Another notification, this one a DM from a fan. She opened it reluctantly, expecting more of the same, but the words made her stomach twist:

elonmuskwasright41: "You’re still hot, but I kinda miss the old Savvy. Maybe you should hit the gym, y'know?"

She slammed the phone down, her frustration bubbling to the surface. The old Savvy. That was all anyone ever wanted now—the version of her that didn’t exist anymore. The one who was slim, who could stream for hours without feeling self-conscious, who hadn’t started to retreat behind oversized hoodies and careful camera angles.

And then there was Jessica.

The thought of her made Savannah’s stomach churn. Jessica had started out on the same path—streaming, building an audience, climbing the ranks of influencers. They’d even been friends, once, but while Savannah’s trajectory had taken a nosedive, Jessica had only soared higher. Her streams were as popular as ever, her body as flawless as it had always been. Savannah had seen the pictures Jessica posted, the perfectly edited snapshots of her glamorous life, the comments from fans who adored her. They had once been equals, but now…

Savannah’s jaw tightened as she remembered the last time she’d seen Jessica’s latest post. A photo of her lounging by a pool, bikini-clad and glowing with perfection. Thousands of likes. Hundreds of comments. Savannah had stopped reading them after the first few—it was too painful. Jessica had managed to keep everything together, to stay at the top, while Savannah was left here, struggling to hold onto whatever was left of her dwindling audience.

She booted up her stream, and…there she sat. PrincessPeaches was her streamer name, illuminated in perfect lighting that made her already flawless features look ethereal. Her perfect blonde hair was effortlessly styled, cascading in silky waves that framed her delicate, heart-shaped face. Her cheekbones were high and sharp, her nose dainty, and her lips full—always slightly parted in that perfect, pouty way her fans loved. Her skin was smooth, not a single blemish in sight, glowing with health. Even her eyes, a striking shade of hazel, sparkled as she leaned in closer to the camera, giving her viewers a flirtatious look, knowing exactly how to draw them in.

Jessica was showing off again.

Savannah could tell by the way she angled her body, subtly pushing her chest forward, the neckline of her shirt dipping low to reveal those perfectly perky, gravity-defying breasts. They weren’t just big—they were the kind of breasts that seemed sculpted, practically molded for admiration. They sat high and firm on her chest, barely needing any support, always the focal point of her streams. Jessica knew what her fans wanted, and she gave it to them effortlessly, centering the camera just right to make sure her cleavage was the star of the show.

Savannah’s gaze dropped to her own reflection, the screen in front of her going dark after she’d ended her stream. Her hand instinctively brushed over her chest. A year ago, she hadn’t cared that her breasts were small—perfect little B-cups that had always suited her petite frame. But now, after months of late-night binges and her weight creeping up, they’d grown into Cs, though they were nowhere near as firm as Jessica’s. They sagged just a little more than they should, and even though they filled her shirts better now, they didn’t have that perfect shape or bounce. No matter how she positioned the camera, they just didn’t look the same.

Jessica’s camera panned lower, giving her fans a teasing glimpse of her toned stomach, the subtle curves of her waist leading down to her hips. She stood up for a moment, pretending to adjust something off-camera, and that’s when it came into full view—her ass, the thing her fans raved about. It was the kind of ass that didn’t need effort; it was naturally tight, round, and perfectly shaped, as if it had been carved by a sculptor. Jessica turned slightly, giving a playful little shake, knowing exactly how to drive her fans wild with just the smallest movement. There wasn’t a hint of jiggle or softness—just firm, toned perfection that every angle of her camera captured flawlessly.

Savannah's face flushed as she looked down at herself, at the way her own body had changed. She had once been proud of her ass. It used to be a perfect bubble butt, tight and toned from all the workouts she used to do. It had been her best feature, the thing she would subtly show off in her streams, catching glimpses of admiration in the chat. But now? It was nowhere near the same. Her leggings stretched uncomfortably tight over her hips and thighs, clinging to the softness that had accumulated there over the past year. When she stood, her butt wobbled slightly with each step, and the once-smooth skin had started showing signs of cellulite, those faint dimples visible through the strained fabric. Her former firmness had given way to a jiggle she couldn't hide, no matter how she angled the camera or adjusted her clothes.

Jessica sat back down, her hips narrow and her waist still perfectly defined. Even when she slouched, her stomach remained flat, with not a single ounce of excess fat. Savannah’s eyes dropped lower as she tugged at the hem of her hoodie, feeling the soft roll of her own belly pressing against the waistband of her leggings. There was no hiding it anymore. A year ago, she had been able to wear crop tops and low-rise jeans without a second thought. Her waist had been small, toned, and defined, the kind of stomach that looked good in anything. Now, she couldn’t avoid the slight bulge that spilled over her waistband when she sat down. Her belly had softened, a constant reminder of all the late-night snacking, the comfort food that had slowly added up until she barely recognized herself.

Jessica’s thighs were lean, the gap between them noticeable even when she sat down, her legs crossed effortlessly. Her skin-tight jeans clung to her like a second skin, showing off her toned muscles without a hint of excess. Savannah shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her thighs pressing together in a way they hadn’t used to. There was no gap anymore, just the soft, full flesh of her legs straining against the fabric of her leggings. She could feel the way they jiggled when she moved, the cellulite creeping up the back of her thighs where the skin had once been smooth and firm. Even sitting, she felt the pressure of her body against her clothes, the discomfort of a body that no longer fit the way it used to.

And then there was her face. Savannah leaned closer to her mirror, studying the reflection that looked back at her, feeling a pang of envy as she thought about Jessica’s perfect features. Jessica’s face hadn’t changed a bit, still slim and angular, her cheekbones high and sharp, her jawline perfectly defined. Even when she smiled, there wasn’t an ounce of softness in her face—just those full lips, bright eyes, and flawless skin that made her look like she belonged in a magazine.

Savannah, on the other hand, could see the changes all too clearly. Her face had softened over the past year, the sharpness of her jawline dulled by a layer of fat she couldn’t ignore. Her cheeks, once high and defined, had rounded out, giving her a fuller, more tired look. There was a subtle puffiness around her eyes, a constant reminder of the late nights and stress. Even her lips, once her best feature, seemed less defined, the natural fullness fading beneath the weight of everything else. Her skin had lost its glow, too—paler than it used to be, with faint blemishes here and there that no amount of makeup could fully cover.

Savannah couldn’t help but compare the two of them—Jessica, who seemed to have defied time and gravity, still as perfect as ever, and herself, who had slowly, steadily fallen apart. Jessica looked like a goddess on her stream, effortlessly pulling in fans with her beauty and charm, while Savannah sat in her apartment, feeling heavier, softer, and farther from the girl she used to be with every passing day.

She wanted to stop watching, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t tear herself away from the glaring differences between them, from the harsh reality of how far she had let herself go.

Savannah dropped the phone onto the desk again and sank back into her chair, staring at the blank monitor in front of her. She could still hear the faint echoes of her chat in her head, the way they used to praise her, the way they used to care. But now, it felt like she was screaming into a void, her voice lost in the noise of a world that had moved on without her.

The apartment was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy, pressing in on her from all sides. She pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them, and closed her eyes. She wanted to believe that this was just a phase, that she could turn things around, but deep down, she wasn’t sure anymore.

The old Savvy was gone, and she didn’t know if she could ever get her back.


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thanks for tuning in for another story ! been workshopping this one for a bit, stoked to share it with you all ! leave a comment down below w your thoughts seriously those make my day. leave a like if you're enjoying and see you on the next chapter !