The Fat Transfer System

My competitive eater classmate, Selina Reeves, bound me to a fat transfer system. No matter how much food she ate, I was the one who gained weight.

Later, she was named one of the top 100 food bloggers while I ballooned to 200 pounds and lost my job.

My boyfriend did not seem to mind. He even proposed with unwavering confidence.

A month later, Selina entered a competitive eating contest and devoured 20 pounds of ribs in one sitting.

The excessive fat intake triggered acute hypertension, and I died on the spot.

My husband inherited my substantial fortune, then turned around and married Selina without a second thought.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself three months in the past.

Selina's food streaming career was just starting to gain traction, and I still weighed 90 pounds.

This time, I snatched the ten-inch cake right out of her hands and ate every last bite.

She had no idea I had bound myself to a food transfer system.

No matter how much I ate, it would transfer to her stomach tenfold.

"Cece, cake time! Open wide!"

Under the ring light, Selina Reeves held up a ten-inch cake and shoved a heaping spoonful of frosting toward me. I instinctively raised my hand to block it.

The wrist in front of me looked slender and delicate. I could wrap my fingers around it with room to spare.

Being 90 pounds felt incredible.

Selina noticed my slim fingers, and jealousy flickered across her round face. She quickly masked it with a peppy expression and winked at her phone camera.

"Sorry, everyone! My friend doesn't want any. She works super hard on her figure. The last time she even caught a whiff of frosting she started gagging!

"Don't pressure her, guys, or she'll 'accidentally' knock the plate over again!"

Watching Selina put on her cute act, I barely held back my cold laughter.

In my past life, she loved disguising insults as jokes. I simply ate clean and healthy to stay in shape, but she told her livestream viewers I was some toxic dieter with an eating disorder.

Her fans tore me apart online. My reputation tanked, I got publicly criticized by verified accounts, and I lost job after job.

She would just pout innocently. "But I'm only being honest. Cece, everyone just cares about you. They want you to eat more. A little extra weight would be good for you."

Right. I was a runway model. Gaining even a single pound meant getting benched until I dropped my weight again.

Despite this, she kept pushing me to get fat like her, a professional competitive eater.

When that did not work, she bound me to the fat transfer system. From then on, she ate and I packed on the pounds.

She made me balloon to 200 pounds, destroyed my career, stole my husband, and finally killed me during one massive eating competition.

This time around, I would make her pay.

Selina took several huge bites of cake, smearing frosting all over her oily nose and cheeks. Watching her made my stomach turn.

She thought she looked adorable, widening her eyes at the heavily filtered camera. "Guys, seriously! The chocolate from this cake hits like a freight train! How is anyone supposed to resist?

"Cece, you're really not having any? Just one tiny taste. You can always go purge in the bathroom after..."

The livestream chat exploded with criticism.

[Restricting and purging? That's so messed up!]

[I can't stand those skinny girls. Totally pandering to the male gaze! Our Selina's curvy look is way cuter!]

[I knew someone who starved herself for years. She got so thin her face looked gaunt, her skin turned sallow, and her hair fell out in clumps. She was hideous! If this friend purges too, she probably looks even worse!]

Selina's smile spread wider despite her attempts to hide it. She plastered a look of fake concern onto her face.

"Hey now, don't talk about her like that! She's my best friend no matter what!

"Now watch me demolish this thing!"

She opened her mouth wide to chomp down on the cake. But I had already slipped behind her and leaned in to take an enormous bite first.

"Damn, this is good!"