Ring light on. Lip gloss glimmering. The soft hum of a million followers flooding the comment section with heart emojis and fire reacts.
"Slay, Queen!"
"Your skin is literal glass, what's the serum?"
"Drop the filter , Don't fake us."
I smiled.
Tilted my face to the left best angle. "No filter, promise. It's all about discipline and hydration."
Fake laughter.
Another heart emoji.
I had learned to hold my face like a mask. No lines, no cracks.
Not even when the hate comments slipped through the cracks of admiration.
Not even when i hadn't slept in two days.
Not even when i felt like i was disappearing inside my own curated perfection.
Coleen Villaflor.
Beauty Influencer.
Brand ambassador.
Internet royalty.
A life wrapped in PR boxes and pastel aesthetics, in glow-ups and hot takes and followers who thought they knew me.
Who thought their hearts broke when mine did, if mine ever did.
No one really asked what i was like off-cam.
Not that i'd know what to say.
I was wearing the white silk robe gifted by a Korean skincare brand. Barely-there makeup.
Sunlight flooding my condo window.
I had just unboxed a jade roller shaped like a phoenix when the screen on my phone began to flicker.
"Hold on, guys," I said, tapping it. "Weird lag."
The lights dimmed.
My breath hitched.
And then—
A sound.
Sharp. Electric. Like glass shattering in reverse.
The world… bent. Literally. Like the air folded inward.
I remember the pressure.
A weight on my chest.
My phone dropping.
The room spinning.
Then silence.
Not sleep.
Not fainting.
A fall.
But there was no ground.
The last thing i saw was my own reflection on the blackened screen.
Not a goddess.
Not a queen.
Just a girl with tired eyes pretending she still had control.
And then…
Darkness.
And then…
Time.