One word writing prompts: SIL

Word Nineteen: Routine [rf]

AH SORRY FOR THE LONG LONG DELAYYY

From a nice song hehe (Poland was cheated)

Tw: Um.. entertainment industry?

Third person pov:

Songs I listened to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pgs4KeaEsBk

--ш--

The bright flashes of the cameras click around her as she moves, capturing every little moment. She keeps her brilliant grin up, waving at the paparazzi as they yell obnoxious questions. She already knows tomorrow's headlines will all star her, their perfect leading lady, yet she's dreading it.

She treads the red velvet carefully, almost mechanically as she avoids the holes she knows are hidden under the glamour. Every stinging throb of the lights against the dark night sky brands itself on her eyes, lifting her own heart rate in response. She has to be perfect.

Everything is too bright, too loud, that she almost feels grateful as she steps through the large gilded doors. The lights die away instantaneously, and she is greeted with the soft chatter of the room. A few people come up to her, smiles plastered on their faces as they greet her sweetly.

'How have you been?'

'I'm so sorry for your loss.'

Isn't it funny that everyone is acting like they know her personally? She shakes hands, answers questions and plays the role of a torn young lady, despite being anything but. She has to be nice, for she wouldn't have made it far without support, no matter how twisted the intentions were. There is a reason she was nominated for an Oscar, isn't there?

Her face is starting to hurt from all the smiles she's wearing. But it feels natural at this point, and she brushes it off. Play the role, she reminds herself. This is nothing more than an act. After all- in this industry, is anything ever genuine?

They don't really care about her mother. They've all been dying for a little drama, and she is the newest pretty face filling the news with it. She accepts feigned condolences, seeing the telltale glints of obsession in their eyes.

It's disgusting, something she won't ever say out loud. They reek of desperation. She can already see the expression of her manager. Serves him right, she thinks, sauntering towards one of the more prominent places in the building. As much as she hates the spotlight, she has to put up the perfect façade.

Everything is calculated, from the angle at which she holds her glass, to the way in which she stands. Nothing should give off the wrong impression. Being a celebrity is so restricted, nothing like she ever imagined. She surveys the room, hiding disinterest behind exuberance. In the corner, people. In the other corner, more people. She's liking this event less and less.

But it's not like she can leave at this point. She is the new Marilyn Monroe of the minute. She is pretty. She is flawless. She is the one and only gem of the East. She is perfect, isn't she? No, that's not a question. She is perfect. No one will know that she's unfit for the role, and she'll keep it that way.

--ш--

I had this one sitting in the drafts for some time lmao- I rlly like it but idk