Jasper found me crouched behind the trailer, knees pulled to my chest, shaking.
"Brit?" His voice was soft, concerned. He crouched beside me. "What’s wrong?"
I choked out, "I don't want to do it. I told her. She won't listen."
Jasper's jaw clenched. "Then you don't do it. I'll talk to them. I'll shut it down."
For a moment, I believed him. My big brother—the only one who ever fought for me.
But then our mother swooped in like a hurricane, dragging me aside.
"Sweetheart," she cooed, voice low and syrupy. "Do you want to ruin your father's campaign? After everything he’s sacrificed? After everything we’ve built?"
I flinched.
"Just this once," she whispered. "Be a good daughter. Make us proud."
And like the weak, desperate fool I was, I nodded.
I swallowed my dignity, my fear, and stepped onto the set.
Two days later, my face—my bare skin—was everywhere.
I couldn't walk down the street without seeing a blown-up version of myself sprawled across billboards, magazine covers, bus stops. It was suffocating.
"You’re famous now," Mom trilled, thrusting a pile of interview requests in front of me. "The whole world wants you. We need to capitalize on this, Brittany. No time to rest!"
"I'm tired," I whispered, voice cracking.
"Tired?" Her smile faltered. "Sweetheart, this is what success looks like. You should be grateful."
Jasper tried. God, he tried.
"She needs a break," he barked one night, slamming the dinner plates onto the table. "She’s not a machine."
Dad barely looked up from his phone. "This is the life she chose."
"No," Jasper snapped. "It’s the life you forced on her."
Mom sniffed, waving a dismissive hand. "She’s fine."
But I wasn’t.
Every morning I woke up dreading the scale.
Every afternoon, Mom's voice would slice through me.
"Careful with that sandwich, Brittany."
"Are you really going to eat all that?"
"Maybe lay off the carbs if you want to stay relevant."
The worst part? I started believing her.
I skipped breakfast. I nibbled through lunch. I drank water to stave off the hunger clawing at my gut.
And still, it was never enough.
