Sarah was always the introvert. The girl who dined by herself at lunch, who read rather than attended parties, who scrolled through social media watching others live the lives she only dreamed about.
Loneliness trailed after her like a ghost by the age of 22. She did have friends, but no friends who actually got her. They were passing things, unsexy. She spent her nights alone in her small apartment with a glass of wine on the couch, her phone light burning into her cheeks as she swiped through what felt like an infinite feed of individuals who simply appeared so. alive.
This was how she stumbled upon Vidizzy.
She just watched first. A world of strangers flirting, teasing, posing for the attention of an audience starved for it. It was exciting, voyeuristic, and for the first time in a long, long while, Sarah felt something stirring within her—an exhilaration she did not even know she was missing.
She signed up one evening, wine eroding her reticence. A simple username. A vacant profile. And then, she started talking.
The messages came fast. Boys who wanted to talk, to flirt, to see her. It was like a drug. A rush. She toyed with their come-ons, she played games, she played the power she possessed over them. And when at last she flicked on her camera—briefly, in passing—she saw the longing in their eyes, the naked desire she never had seen before directed at her.
For the first time in her life, Sarah had felt desired.
But as the nights passed and the screen was her new existence, she couldn’t help but wonder—was it real? Or was it just another temporary fantasy in an imaginary world of momentary indulgences?
And more crucially. did she care?