"Think she's faking the sleep routine?"
But Sophia Sterling's drowsy pout was too authentic—her notoriously wooden acting couldn't conjure this level of unscripted charm.
She'd genuinely just woken up.
And in doing so, she'd unleashed her nuclear-grade natural beauty: dewy skin untouched by morning puffiness, features so delicately balanced they'd make Botticelli weep, and a glow that could power small European nations. In an industry drowning in contour kits and CGI filters, Sophia's bare-faced radiance was a cultural reset.
"Sunshine! You're awake!" Alexander fluttered around her like a besotted hummingbird. "Daddy failed you—the morning elixir wasn't chilled to precisely 4°C!"
Sophia squinted at the cameras. "You're… here?"
"Live broadcast in 58 minutes, princess," Alexander fretted, adjusting her crooked pajama collar. "Let's manifest today's lewk, yes? The Valentino feather robe? Or the Schiaparelli teddy bear onesie?"
The director edged closer. "Ms. Sterling, we need to strategize your career segment's narrative arc—"
Sophia flopped onto a cashmere-upholstered chaise, yawning. "Just point the cameras. My existence is the narrative."
"But how do we… validate this as a profession?" he pressed. Career Spotlight wasn't Lifestyles of the Rich and Useless.
A maid materialized with a goblet of emerald-green juice. Sophia sipped, then smirked.
"The ROI of being a Professional Daughter?" She twirled a sleep-mussed curl. "I'm the human essential oil diffuser of this household. My presence—"
"—elevates our serotonin by 300%!" Alexander interjected, starry-eyed.
The head housekeeper nodded solemnly. "Miss Sophia's aura cured my plantar fasciitis."
The sommelier added: "Our Bordeaux vintages improved 17% since her return."
The director's espresso shot threatened to make a reappearance.
Was this… a cult? Or just billionaire family values?
Cut to: Lights, Camera, Desperation
Across Manhattan, Isabella Montgomery dangled 30 feet above a soundstage, her "warrior princess" wig snagging on a rigging wire. The Career Spotlight crew assigned to her sneered at their phones:
"Team Sterling's streaming from a bedroom. Pathetic."
"At least our segment has dignity. Who watches someone sleep?"
Isabella landed with ballerina precision, flashing her 10,000-watt "girl next door" grin. "Ready when you are!"
The director fawned: "Your work ethic puts certain trust fund babies to shame."
Isabella's smile tightened. "Sophia's still… participating?"
"As a joke category. Don't worry—her 'career' will be canceled faster than a Goop vagina egg."
Live Stream: Pandemonium
When the broadcast launched, five split screens flickered to life:
Isabella Montgomery (Actor) – 200K viewers, #GirlBoss hashtagsHotel GM / Physics Prof / Subway Driver – Respectable 50K crowdsSophia Sterling (Professional Daughter) – 1.2M viewers and climbing
Comments exploded:
[Since when is nepotism a career path?]
[I'd sell my soul for her pajamas.]
[That "juice" probably costs more than my rent.]
The camera captured Sophia—makeup-free in a $40k La Perla chemise, demolishing truffle popcorn while her father performed interpretive dance to Swan Lake.
"Dad," she deadpanned, "are you… molting?"
Alexander pirouetted past the cameraman. "It's Act II, darling! The tragic descent into madness!"
"Right. Very… feathery."
Viewers lost collective sanity:
[HER DAD IS A SILVER FOX TIKTOK DANCER?!]
[THIS IS THE GREATEST THING IVE EVER SEEN]
[I need a daddy who cosplays as Nureyev]
Sophia tossed popcorn at his tutu. "10/10 for commitment. Negative points for traumatizing Degas."
The director finally grasped Sophia's career thesis: She wasn't just a daughter—she was the family's glitter-drenched heart, the living embodiment of chutzpah over grind.
Meanwhile, Isabella's feed showed her rehearsing a tearful monologue. Comments trickled in:
[zzzzzz]
[Switch to Channel 5—Trust Fund Barbie's dad is doing the worm!]
By hour's end, Sophia's "profession" had trended globally.
The Sterling family group chat blew up:
Mom CEO: Darling, our stock rose 8% during your "nap." Keep napping!
Uncle #1: Sending a baby sloth for your private zoo. Career development.
Cousin: Pls adopt me.
Sophia smirked at her phone. Take that, novel plotline.
Being the villainess was exhausting.
Being the heroine of her own luxurious life?
Priceless.