「 ⩩ 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 Liliana swore off F1 drivers after a situationship gone wrong-until Ni-ki, the coldest racer on the grid, offers her a fake relationship she should have said no to.」
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Lily sighed, the sound h...
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The comments were relentless — a digital avalanche of half-baked takes and cruel poetry, typed by people who thought being mean was a personality trait.
A soft click echoed in the room as a pair of long, acrylic nails tapped the trackpad again. Scroll. Scroll. Scroll. The glasses slid slightly down the bridge of her nose, and she didn't bother pushing them back up. Lips pressed into a thin, unimpressed line, then puckered thoughtfully, like she was trying to suck the bitterness straight off the screen.
"Maybe if she focused less on fanfics and more on therapy."
"Her boobs look fake tbh."
"Cut off Sunghoon just to act like a martyr. Can't win with these girls."
The last one made her scoff, loud and dramatic.
It was exhausting. Every time she thought the fire had died down, the internet poured more gasoline. There was no such thing as moving on when your name trended for heartbreaks you didn't cause and fanfics you didn't write (allegedly).
People loved dragging her client — no, her headache — through the mud. Because Lily, for all her glossy press photos and impeccable social media curation, had a talent for walking straight into chaos like she was born in it. And somehow, always, always, Rosalia was left with the broom.
She leaned back in the chair, letting her head hit the cushion with a dull thud, eyes still fixed on the screen like she was watching a car crash she was paid to clean up.
It wasn't that Rosalia hated Lily — that was far too strong a word. She just didn't understand how Lily managed to juggle being a walking PR crisis and the most irritatingly charming person in the room. If you asked Lily, she'd say she was a dream client: zero dating scandals (until recently), no rants about ramen on livestreams, and a bestselling author at the age of twenty-two. Flawless. Untouchable. The people's princess.
If you asked Rosalia, she'd say Lily was a migraine in designer heels with a superiority complex and the emotional regulation of a theatre kid.
Rosalia's jaw clenched.
The problem wasn't Lily's reputation it was the noise that followed her like a bad perfume. Sunghoon. The fanfic. The TikTok edits. The insane comments accusing Lily of writing her own heartbreak arc and then living it.
Cutting Sunghoon off should've been a relief. Instead, it painted Lily as cruel. Cold. A manipulative pretty face who'd strung him along for "clout." It didn't matter that he was dating Xinxin now. The internet didn't want a reasonable woman — they wanted an emotional one.
And God forbid she act unbothered. That was a cardinal sin. That was war.
"Women these days," Rosalia slapped the laptop shut. "You breathe wrong, and suddenly you're the villain."
