All was quiet on the western front that is my dorm room. Class was over, but it was only Tuesday, and the club was most definitely not going up. So I did what every normal srat star in 2015 would do, and gingerly logged into MySpace. Netflix was just a waste of time at this point. I mean, what the hell do you watch when you finish Grey's Anatomy AND Gossip Girl? As I depressingly took the last sip of my Starbuck's Mocha Frappuccino double espresso I decided to begin creepily stalking everyone relevant, starting with Sarah. Looks like our friend Sarah posted a picture from Saturday. WAIT, WHAT? She wore that outfit? I literally wore those heels last month. She's always copying my style. I'm like Regina George before she got hit by a bus and jacked up her otherwise flawless face. Who's that guy she's with? He's kind of cute. Wait, whoa — abort. He looks like he's 5 foot nothing. I do have standards after all. Now let's see what my best friend and life partner is up to. Alright Jess, looks like you've changed your song from "Blank Space" to some random Sam Hunt song. You haven't posted in three days, which is weird, and wait ... OH MY GOD. I can't even.
The day I had always dreaded was upon us ladies and gentlemen. Jess had dropped me from number one to number two on her top friends. My replacement? Some random guy that she didn't even tell me about. How could she do this to me? I felt an avalanche of emotions moving in my stomach, that avalanche of course being fueled by the Chipotle I ate for dinner. I thought we were best friends? I quickly scrambled to edit my profile, but who would replace Jess? My (perfect) big was a lock at two, where we mutually agreed on putting each other. Number three was my high school best friend, and moving her up would make it look like I peaked. I only had three in my top friends, and I couldn't just get rid of the list all together. I decided to deal with my problems head on and text Jess.
I sent my text with a sassy mentality, and the twenty seconds that went by before she responded felt like a lifetime. Before I opened her text, a surge of anxiety rushed over me. This was it. It read:
"WTF?! I didn't do that. I must have been hacked or something. I'll change it right away. Ily and thank you YGG."
My heart fluttered and my cheeks turned red. The biggest crisis of my day was avoided. MySpace produces the worst kind of drama. I wish Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram was more popular. There would never be any drama. Oh well, a girl can dream I guess.
