Chapter 7: Truth and Triumph

At night, the stream started on time.

I set up extra ring lights, made sure the camera was steady, and the computer hummed as I logged in. The glow from the monitor lit up my face, and the chat exploded.

Tens of thousands of viewers flooded in, increasing by the thousands every second.

The numbers were dizzying. My phone buzzed with notification after notification, each one a jolt of nervous energy.

Everyone entering was stunned, because—

I was wearing the same floral dress from the viral video.

I straightened my hat, determined to own the moment.

I smiled at the camera, “Good evening, everyone. I’m fruit seller Tyler Reed. Welcome to my stream.”

My voice was steady, but my palms were sweating.

Viewer 1: “Trash who disrespects women!”

Viewer 2: “Making dirty money, don’t you feel guilty?”

Viewer 3: “Just passing by, someone explain.”

I watched the comments fly by, my heart pounding.

…

Viewer x: “Cut the crap, we’re here for the tea…”

Thousands of comments scrolled by, full of American internet slang, memes, and sarcasm.

I took a deep breath and laid out the plan.

I calmly stated the three points to resolve in this stream.

First, I showed security footage proving my oranges were good.

I played the video, pausing to point out details. The chat slowed, people watching closely.

Second, about disrespecting and insulting women.

I stood up and bowed deeply to the camera.

“I’m very sorry for the wardrobe malfunction caused by my mistake. Although it wasn’t intentional, I deeply regret the negative impact.”

I kept my head bowed for a full five seconds. The chat went quiet.

“At the time, YouTube’s review team immediately banned my stream. I deny the audio’s authenticity, and I clarified back then.”

I posted a screenshot of my old clarification.

I highlighted the date and time, making it clear I’d spoken up before.

Some viewers doubted, “No real evidence, you can say anything.”

I expected the skepticism. People wanted a show.

At this point, Sebastian and his fans joined the stream. Sebastian looked confident and smug.

He flashed a grin, waving at the camera like he owned the place.

I sensed trouble.

Sebastian said, “I brought a witness from back then, he has a few words for everyone.”

Then, the familiar buzz-cut appeared on screen.

He looked nervous, but determined.

“Tyler, sorry for what happened back then. We just thought it was fun, didn’t know who recorded it. Sorry, sorry…”

The more sincerely he apologized, the more it seemed to confirm the voice was mine.

I felt the tide turning against me. My chest tightened.

Viewer…: “Even if the streamer was forced, it’s still cringe.”

Viewer Iron Backbone: “No backbone.”

Viewer Plot Twist: “Thought it’d be a one-sided win, but this? Yikes.”

I let them talk, waiting for the right moment.

Seeing negative sentiment peak, I smiled.

I’d saved my ace for last.

“Coincidentally, I also have an old audio clip from a kind informant.”

Sebastian and the buzz-cut’s faces changed instantly.

I watched them squirm, knowing what was coming.

“I was worried people would doubt the audio, since the female voice isn’t mine and I have no other voices for comparison, but now you two are here.”

“Thanks for delivering the voices.”

I uploaded the audio, side by side with their voices. I explained how digital forensics worked, comparing it to those voice-matching scenes on CSI.

In the digital age, comparing voices is easy—just a few minutes to analyze the waveforms.

The chat exploded with speculation. I could see minds changing in real time.

Before everyone’s eyes, two similar audio graphs appeared.

The original audio was crudely edited by them, full of holes. Sensing things going badly, the buzz-cut shifted blame.

He stammered, trying to talk his way out, but no one was buying it.

“That’s all in the past. Here’s your money back, I don’t want it.” Then he quickly left the stream.

He disappeared, tail between his legs.

Now everyone understood.

The insults, blame, and unfollows bounced back to Sebastian.

The chat turned on him, demanding answers.

Sebastian quickly disconnected, and his fans left in embarrassment.

The numbers dropped, but the support for me soared.

Because of the attention, YouTube Live quickly issued a statement:

Regarding recent accusations by streamer ‘King Cole’ against reviewer account ‘Civic Harmony,’ the platform takes this seriously, set up a special team to investigate, and the results are:

1. No violations found by the ‘Civic Harmony’ account manager.

2. The platform does not interfere in employees’ private friendships.

The confrontation ended. I moved two baskets of oranges in front of the camera.

I took a moment to compose myself, then smiled wide.

“These are our oranges—sun-drenched, sweet and delicious. Middlemen buy them for over a dollar a pound, but now you can get them for just a few bucks by clicking the yellow cart below.”

I winked at the camera, letting my Southern charm do the talking.

After all the drama, not riding the traffic wave would be a waste.

I peeled an orange, started eating, and made some orange peel tea.

The chat filled with questions and orders. I answered every one, my confidence growing.

The shopping cart’s views and orders skyrocketed.

I watched the numbers climb, feeling a rush I’d never known.

Riding the bad orange hype, I told viewers we could handle big orders, company group buys, teacher gifts, holiday baskets, or your next PTA meeting.

The thousands of oranges I’d prepared sold out, and I truly felt the power of live e-commerce for the first time.

I slumped back in my chair, exhausted but exhilarated.

“Folks, today’s stream ends here. If you like the streamer, hit follow—don’t get lost!”

I flashed a peace sign, trying to sound casual.

As soon as I finished, a string of gift effects blinded me.

‘Moira_Star’ tipped the streamer:

Super Chat x1

Super Chat x2

Super Chat x3

…

Super Chat x10

The screen exploded with confetti and digital fireworks. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

After a dazzling five minutes, the stream returned to normal, and a ‘Big Boss, wait!’ lit up the chat.

Viewer 0: “Big bro, big sis, wait, I’m soft and flexible, highly adaptable, DM me 12xxxx.”

Viewer 1: “Domineering physique, can work night shifts…”

The chat was a circus, folks dropping memes and shooting their shot.

With the chat full of ‘rich lady seeking sugar baby,’ I turned off comments, smiled at the camera, “Thanks to Moira for the Super Chats.”

I gave a little bow, then ended the stream. Good people should be kept to myself.

With a secret expectation, I messaged Autumn: “Can you tell me the answer now?”