Chapter 3: The Truth Behind the Perfect Image
Ava didn’t sleep.
She tried.
She turned off the lights, put her phone face down, and told herself she was above it.
She had survived bad comments before.
She had survived rumors.
She had survived strangers online pretending they knew her.
But this was different.
Because for the first time, the internet wasn’t reacting to something someone had invented.
They were reacting to something she had actually done.
At 3:17 a.m., Ava was still sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at the glow of her phone screen.
The number kept rising.
Three million views.
Five million.
Eight million.
Every refresh brought another wave of comments.
Some defended her.
Most didn’t.
“She finally got exposed.””
“She treats everyone like they’re beneath her.””
“I used to follow her. Not anymore.””
Ava threw the phone onto the bed.
“No.””
The word came out louder than she expected.
She stood up and walked toward the mirror.
Her apartment looked exactly like the life she had built online.
Designer furniture.
Luxury decorations.
Awards from brands.
A wall filled with framed magazine covers.
Every piece was proof of success.
But tonight, the reflection staring back at her felt unfamiliar.
Her makeup was gone.
Her hair was messy.
There were no cameras.
No followers.
No audience.
Just Ava.
And she hated how quiet that felt.
A knock came from the living room.
She froze.
“Mia?””
No answer.
The knock came again.
Ava grabbed a robe and walked cautiously toward the door.
When she opened it, Mia stood there holding two coffees.
“You’re still awake,” Mia said.
Ava looked at her.
“Obviously.””
Mia stepped inside.
“I thought you might need this.””
Ava took the coffee but didn’t drink it.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Ava said, “Tell me how bad it is.””
Mia looked away.
That was enough.
Ava laughed bitterly.
“Wow.””
“I didn’t say anything.””
“You didn’t have to.””
Mia placed her bag down.
“The video is everywhere.””
“How many?””
“Almost twelve million views.””
Ava’s fingers tightened around the cup.
“Twelve million?””
“And it’s still climbing.””
Ava walked toward the window.
The city below was waking up.
People were heading to work.
Buying coffee.
Living normal lives.
Meanwhile, her entire career felt like it was collapsing in real time.
“Who posted the old video?”” Ava asked.
Mia hesitated.
“I don’t know.””
“Find out.””
“Ava—”
“Find out.””
Mia sighed.
“I already tried.””
“And?””
“There’s no name attached.””
Ava turned.
“What do you mean?””
“The account that posted it is anonymous.””
Ava stared.
“That’s impossible.””
“No, it isn’t.””
“Yes, it is. Nobody can post something about me without me knowing.””
Mia gave her a look.
“That sentence is exactly the problem.””
Ava looked offended.
“What does that mean?””
Mia was quiet.
Too quiet.
Ava stepped closer.
“Say it.””
Mia looked down.
“You really don’t see it, do you?””
“See what?””
“That you’ve been treating everyone like background characters.””
The words landed harder than Ava expected.
Because they didn’t come from a stranger.
They came from someone who had been beside her for years.
“Mia.””
“I’m not trying to hurt you.””
“Sounds like you are.””
“I’m trying to understand.””
“Understand what?””
Mia looked around the apartment.
“This.””
Ava followed her gaze.
“What about it?””
“You built this whole world where everyone exists to make you look good.””
“That’s not true.””
“Isn’t it?””
Ava opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Mia continued.
“The assistant who carries your bags. The drivers who wait hours. The staff at events.
The people who follow you. Everyone is part of the image.””
Ava’s face hardened.
“You’re saying I’m a bad person?””
“No.””
Mia shook her head.
“I’m saying you stopped noticing people.””
Ava looked away.
She wanted to argue.
She wanted to tell Mia she was wrong.
But memories started appearing.
A hotel worker apologizing because her room wasn’t ready.
A makeup artist staying late while Ava complained about lighting.
A restaurant server nervous because Ava demanded special treatment.
Small moments.
Moments she had forgotten because they felt too small to matter.
Her phone suddenly rang.
Ava looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
She answered immediately.
“Hello?””
Silence.
Then a man’s voice.
“Ms. Sterling.””
Ava straightened.
“Who is this?””
“You don’t know me.””
“Then why are you calling?””
“My name is Thomas Reed.””
Ava frowned.
The name sounded familiar.
“Should I know you?””
A pause.
Then:
“You should know what happened six months ago.””
Ava’s expression changed.
The old video.
“You posted that?””
“No.””
“Then who did?””
Thomas ignored the question.
“You ruined someone’s career that night.””
Ava gripped the phone.
“That’s ridiculous.””
“No. What’s ridiculous is that you thought nobody would remember.””
“Who are you?””
“My sister worked at the event where that video was taken.””
Ava went silent.
Thomas continued.
“She was the person you screamed at.””
Ava remembered the event.
Barely.
It had been a brand launch.
A crowded room.
A delay.
A staff member who had made a mistake.
She remembered being angry.
She remembered saying things.
But she didn’t remember who it was.
“What do you want?””
Thomas laughed quietly.
“That’s your first question?””
“What do you want?””
“I want people to see the whole story.””
Ava’s heart started beating faster.
“What does that mean?””
“It means the video you saw isn’t everything.””
Ava looked confused.
“What are you talking about?””
“You’re right about one thing.””
“What?””
“People only saw a few minutes.””
She waited.
“There are more.””
The room suddenly felt colder.
“More what?””
“More videos.””
Ava looked at Mia.
Mia immediately noticed her expression.
Thomas continued.
“And the next one shows what happened before you started yelling.””
Ava’s throat tightened.
“What happened before?””
“You’ll find out.””
The call ended.
Ava stared at the phone.
“Mia.””
“What?””
“Find Thomas Reed.””
Mia pulled out her laptop.
“Who is he?””
“I don’t know.””
“That’s not helpful.””
Ava ignored the comment.
She watched the old video again.
This time, she noticed something she hadn’t before.
The person she was yelling at wasn’t fighting back.
She wasn’t being rude.
She wasn’t arguing.
She was standing there quietly.
Almost scared.
Ava leaned closer.
“Wait.””
Mia looked up.
“What?””
“Pause it.””
Mia paused the video.
Ava pointed at the background.
“Zoom in.””
Mia adjusted the image.
Behind the employee she had yelled at was a man standing near the exit.
Watching.
Recording.
Ava stared.
“Who is that?””
Mia zoomed further.
The image became blurry.
But there was one detail they could see.
A small silver bracelet on his wrist.
Ava recognized it.
Her face changed.
“No.””
Mia looked at her.
“What?””
Ava stepped back.
“That bracelet.””
“You know him?””
Ava shook her head slowly.
“No.””
Then she whispered:
“But I know who gave it to him.””
Before Mia could ask another question, Ava’s phone buzzed.
A new message.
No number.
Just a video file.
Ava stared at the screen.
The message underneath was only one sentence.
*“You wanted the truth. Watch what happened before you walked into that room.””*
Her finger hovered over the video.
For the first time in years, Ava was afraid to see herself on camera.
Because she finally understood something.
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The worst part wasn’t that people had seen her being cruel.
The worst part was that they might soon see why.
