Blind Justice
I came back from the dead, and the first thing
I did was hit up a doc and get my eyeballs
scooped out. Now I was a blind girl.
Last time around…
I was in this art competition with my
boyfriend’s ‘golden girl‘ the girl he was
obsessed with. This “art prodigy” girlfriend of
his was all smug, and then bam, she drops a
painting that’s identical to mine.
On live TV, in front of everyone watching, she
calls me out for copying her.
I try to defend myself, but my boyfriend,
who’s a judge on the panel, just straight–up
slaps me. “I can’t believe you’d do this,” he
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says. “I was so wrong about you!”
The internet went wild. Everyone was calling
me a copycat, saying nasty stuff about my
family.
I got cyber–bullied to death, and even my
elderly folks were dragged into the mess.
After I died, the ‘golden girl‘ rode the wave of
hate, becoming the “it girl” of the art world.
My boyfriend proposed.
Turns out, it was all a big scheme a total
set–up by the girlfriend and my “man” to
boost her rep.
So, this time, when I woke up, I figured, “No
eyes, no problem.” How are they gonnal
accuse me of copving her if I can’t even see?
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“Okay, Chung, what do you have to say for
yourself?!”
“The proof’s right there. You’re a copycat,
plain and simple!”
Tiffany, my boyfriend’s golden girl, was in my
face, her eyes gleaming with this barely
hidden smugness.
She grabs my painting off my easel, slams it
down next to hers, and the side–by–side is
shown to everyone watching the live art
competition stream.
The cameras were high–def, so you could see
it perfectly: two paintings that were damn
near identical.
Except Tiffany’s was finished, complete with
all the bells and whistles.
Mine? About 80% done.
The live stream chat went nuts. The
messages were flying across the screen.
“OMG, that’s not just similar, it’s a carbon copy!”
“This girl isn’t even trying to hide it anymore!
Does she think we’re all morons? Some
people have no shame, sneaking into a legit comp like this!”
The chat was a non–stop stream of
accusations and insults.
The judges on the panel were giving me the
stink eye too.
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And my boyfriend, Ethan, he was sitting right
there on the panel.
When he saw me getting roasted, he didn’t
look upset at all. He had this weird, almost
excited glint in his eye.
“Ahem…”
Ethan got up, in front of everyone, and
cleared his throat.
“Chung, the evidence speaks for itself. What
do you have to say now?”
“As your boyfriend, I’m beyond disappointed!
How could you be so jealous that you’d rip off
Tiffany’s work?!”
“As an artist and as your partner I can’t
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condone this. I can’t cover for a copycat!”
“Chung, we’re done.”
