The Sterling penthouse buzzed with the soft hum of gaming equipment and the clatter of a silver spoon against fine china. Sophia Sterling, neon ponytail askew, was sprawled across a custom gaming chair, her eyes locked on the screen as her avatar decimated opponents in *Valorant*. Behind her, Alexander Sterling hovered like a butler-meets-cheerleader, a bowl of truffle mac and cheese in hand.
"Open wide, sweetheart," Alexander cooed, maneuvering a spoonful of pasta toward Sophia's mouth mid-headshot. She obeyed absentmindedly, cheese smudging her lip as she muttered, "Dad, I'm *twenty-five*. This is embarrassing."
"Nonsense!" Alexander dabbed her chin with a monogrammed napkin. "Growing girls need fuel. Now, *reload*!"
**Live Chat Exploded:**
["I'm 30 and my dad won't even answer my texts 😭"]
["This is the parenting I DESERVE."]
["Sophia's living my reincarnation goals."]
Across town, Isabella Montgomery's manicured finger jabbed the "end call" button on her phone. Lucian Vaughn's PR team had insisted on a "spontaneous" coffee truck visit to her set—a stunt that now felt as authentic as her co-star's Method acting.
"Action!" the director barked. Isabella flinched as Lucian swept in for a kiss, his lips grazing her cheek with the passion of a spreadsheet. The cameras flashed, capturing her porcelain smile.
**Isabella's Live Chat:**
["Power Couple™ vibes! 💼"]
["Why does this feel like a corporate merger?"]
["Switching to Sophia's stream—she's getting fed tiramisu."]
Back at the penthouse, Sophia paused her game, staring at the mountain of empty dishes. "Dad. Did I eat *three* servings?"
Alexander beamed. "Four! You're thriving!"
A chill swept the room as the AC kicked in. Sophia shivered, and Alexander sprang into action, bundling her into a cashmere cardigan with the urgency of a wildfire. "Arms up! Let's go, let's go!"
**Live Chat:**
["I've never felt so single."]
["Alexander Sterling: Dad, stylist, hype man."]
["Petition for Dad Sterling to adopt us all."]
Isabella's stream limped to 30k viewers, mostly bots and caffeine-crazed crew members. Lucian's attempt at "banter" ("Darling, your cheek's as red as our Q3 profits!") flatlined.
**Sophia's Chat:**
["Is she… playing *Minecraft* now?"]
["Why is watching someone else relax so therapeutic?"]
["This is a cultural reset."]
As Sophia's avatar built a pixelated mansion, Alexander serenaded her with *Bohemian Rhapsody*, off-key and ad-libbed. "*Mama, just killed a man… with this baguette!*"
Isabella, icing her cheek in a trailer, stared at her phone. Sophia's viewer count ticked past 500k. A notification popped up:
**@SophiaSterling:** *[Stream Title: "Pajama CEO"]*
"*Pajama CEO*?!" Isabella hissed, hurling her ice pack. It ricocheted off a framed poster of her *Variety* cover—*"Hollywood's Hardest Worker"*.
In the Sterling kitchen, Eleanor Sterling monitored the metrics, her smirk glacial. "Order a diamond-encrusted mousepad," she told her assistant. "Sophia's 'work ethic' deserves proper branding."
As the clock neared midnight, Sophia's stream signed off with Alexander tucking her into a blanket fort, murmuring, "Tomorrow's agenda: napping *and* nail art. Priorities, princess."
**Live Chat's Final Roar:**
["I'd sell my soul for this family."]
["Isabella who?"]
["Goodnight, capitalist overlords. ✌️"]
Isabella's phone lit up with a text from her agent: *"We need to talk strategy. Maybe… a breakdown scene? Vulnerability?"*
She stared at the screen, then at Sophia's latest post—a selfie with Alexander, captioned *"Promoted to Chief Snacking Officer."*
In the shadows of her trailer, Isabella's laugh was brittle. "Vulnerability? Sure. Let's give them *tears*."
But across the city, Sophia Sterling slept like a queen—untouchable, unbothered, and utterly *fed*.
---
**Next Chapter Teaser:**
Isabella's "breakdown" goes viral—but for all the wrong reasons. Sophia's response? A spa day stream titled *"Cry Harder, Darling."* Meanwhile, Alexander invents a snack-tracking app… for dogs.