Her face was everywhere.
Subway screens. Billboards. Homepages. Shopping apps.
Lina Vale's expression—calm, intense, beautiful in a way that made people pause—had become the image of a new campaign called "Unfiltered Fire."
It wasn't even her idea.
Kael had sold the concept quietly, leveraging her photoshoot footage. But the weight, the message, the eyes staring back at the world?
That was all Lina.
In the black production van heading toward her first variety show shoot, Lina stared blankly at the city outside the window while Sora scrolled through her tablet in panic.
"You're literally on the front of four magazine covers at once," Sora said. "And don't even get me started on the digital campaigns. I mean, who are you right now?"
"Alive, apparently," Lina murmured.
Then her phone buzzed again.
Another message.
Unknown Number:
Everyone wants to love you now. Just wait until they want to see you fall.
Lina stared at it. Deleted it. Tossed the phone aside.
Some ghosts didn't deserve attention.
The show was a popular format—half game, half deep-dive. Designed to expose fake personas and elevate the unfiltered ones.
Lina walked in wearing a simple black top and tied-back hair. Clean, striking, no distractions.
The host grinned. "Lina Vale, viral star of the month. Let's see if there's fire behind the fame."
First segment: Speed Confession.
30 seconds. One secret.
She didn't hesitate.
"I used to sleep on the laundry room floor. It was the only place quiet enough to cry."
Silence.
Even the cameraman stopped moving for a beat.
Then, applause.
Real. Reluctant. But real.
One guest whispered off-mic, "She's not acting."
Backstage, a woman in a tailored beige suit waited by the vending machine.
Sharp cheekbones. Impossibly symmetrical. Like someone used to winning.
"You're better than I thought," she said.
Lina turned. "Thanks. You are…?"
"Elle. You could call me a rival. Or a test."
"A warning?"
Elle smiled.
"A mirror."
She walked away, heels clicking like slow applause.
Sora popped her head in with wide eyes. "Okay that was totally a declaration of war in actress-language."
"I know," Lina said, too calm. "Finally."
That night, Kael didn't text.
He called.
"Your clip is everywhere," he said. "Again."
"You surprised?"
"No. Proud."
There was silence. Then he added, voice lower:
"My grandfather asked if I've told you the truth."
Lina's fingers tightened on the phone. "What truth?"
A pause. Then:
"I'm not just feared because of money or family. I have… connections. Deep ones. Powerful ones. Not all clean."
Lina's heart didn't race. It steadied.
"You're warning me?"
"I'm preparing you. In case you ever see the part of me that doesn't flinch."
"Will I hate it?"
"I hope not."
She took a breath.
"I won't run."
Not tonight.