Amelia's alarm clock crashed to the floor.
She had thrown it across the room without thinking. The broken pieces scattered everywhere. It was 6 AM, and she hadn't slept at all. That terrible video kept playing in her head like a bad song on repeat.
Her phone had been ringing all night. She finally turned it off around 3 AM, but sleep never came. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw those mean comments people wrote about her.
Someone knocked on her bedroom door.
"Amelia? Are you okay in there?" It was Maria, her housekeeper.
"I'm fine," Amelia lied. Her voice came out like a croak.
"Mr. Ethan is here. He brought you flowers. He's waiting downstairs."
Ethan. Her boyfriend of two years. The man who said he loved her no matter what. Maybe he could help make sense of this mess.
Amelia dragged herself out of bed. Her legs felt like jelly. She splashed cold water on her face and looked in the mirror. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. She looked terrible.
Downstairs, Ethan sat at her kitchen table. He held a bunch of white roses. Usually, flowers from him made her happy. But today, his face looked strange. Worried. Maybe even scared.
"Hey," she said softly.
"Hey yourself." Ethan stood up and hugged her. But something felt different about the hug. It was too quick. Too careful.
"Are those for me?" She pointed at the roses.
"Of course." He handed them over. "I thought you might need something beautiful today."
Amelia buried her nose in the flowers. They smelled sweet and clean. For a second, she forgot about the video. Then reality hit her again like a punch to the stomach.
"Ethan, tell me you don't believe that video is real."
His face changed. The color drained out of it. "Amelia, we need to talk about this."
"Just answer me. Do you think I would hurt another singer?"
Ethan looked away. He stared at the floor instead of her eyes. That was never a good sign.
"The video looks pretty real," he said quietly.
Amelia felt like he had slapped her. "You don't believe me?"
"I want to believe you. But millions of people saw it. The girl in the video is crying. You're yelling at her. It's hard to ignore."
"But you know me! You know I would never do something like that!"
Before Ethan could answer, the doorbell rang. Then it rang again. And again.
"I'll get it," Maria called from the kitchen.
Heavy footsteps walked across the front hall. Amelia heard Marcus talking to Maria. His voice sounded angry and rushed.
"Where is she? This is a disaster! The worst disaster of my career!"
Marcus burst into the kitchen like a tornado. His hair was messy. His shirt was wrinkled. He looked like he had been up all night too.
"Amelia! Thank God you're awake. We have huge problems."
"Good morning to you too," Amelia said.
"There's nothing good about this morning." Marcus threw his phone on the table. "Look at these numbers."
The screen showed social media stats. All of them were terrible. The video had 50 million views now. The mean comments were endless. People were calling her names she had never heard before.
"This is insane," Marcus said. "I've been in this business for twenty years. I've never seen anything spread this fast."
Amelia's stomach twisted into knots. "What do we do?"
"First, we need to figure out who made this video and why. Second, we need to control the damage before it gets worse."
"It can get worse?" Amelia asked.
Marcus and Ethan looked at each other. Some kind of silent message passed between them.
"What aren't you telling me?" Amelia demanded.
Marcus pulled up a news website on his phone. The headline made Amelia's heart stop: "LIYA'S RECORD LABEL CONSIDERS DROPPING HER - SOURCES SAY DECISION COULD COME TODAY."
"They can't do that," Amelia whispered. "I just signed a new contract six months ago."
"Contracts have clauses," Marcus explained. "If your image gets damaged badly enough, they can walk away."
"But I didn't do anything wrong!"
"Doesn't matter. It's about money. If radio stations won't play your songs and stores won't sell your albums, you're not worth keeping."
Amelia sank into a chair. Her perfect life was crumbling like a house made of cards. Everything she had worked for since she was sixteen years old was disappearing.
Her phone buzzed with a text message. She had turned it back on to call Marcus earlier.
The message was from her best friend Sophie: "The police just called me. They want to talk to you about the video. They think it might be connected to something bigger."
"The police?" Amelia showed the message to Marcus and Ethan.
Marcus turned pale. "This just got ten times worse."
Another text came in. This one was from an unknown number, just like last night: "Stop trying to fight this. Just admit what you did. It will be easier for everyone."
Amelia's hands started shaking. "Someone is doing this to me on purpose. This isn't random."
"Who would want to hurt you?" Ethan asked.
Before Amelia could answer, her phone rang. The caller ID said "Starlight Entertainment" - her record label. The people who might drop her today.
Marcus grabbed the phone before she could answer it.
"Don't," he warned. "Not until we figure out what to say."
But as soon as Marcus declined the call, another one came in. Then another. Her phone was ringing non-stop.
The doorbell started ringing too. Through the window, Amelia could see news vans pulling up outside her house. Reporters were getting out with cameras and microphones.
"They found your address," Ethan said. "This is about to get crazy."
Maria ran into the kitchen. "Miss Amelia! There are people with cameras trying to climb over the back fence!"
Amelia felt trapped in her own home. The walls seemed to be closing in around her. Yesterday, this house felt like a castle. Today, it felt like a prison.
Her phone buzzed with one more text message. This one made her blood turn to ice:
"We have more videos. Much worse than the first one. Stop fighting, or we release them all."
Marcus read the message over her shoulder. His face went white as paper.
"How many videos are there?" he asked.
"I don't know," Amelia whispered. "I don't understand any of this."
Outside, she could hear reporters shouting questions at her house. Camera flashes went off like fireworks. Her neighbors were probably watching the whole thing.
Ethan looked at Marcus. Marcus looked at Ethan. Neither of them would look at her.
"What is it?" Amelia demanded. "What are you both thinking?"
"Maybe," Ethan said very quietly, "you should consider doing what they want."
Amelia stared at him like he was a stranger.
"You want me to lie? To admit I did something I didn't do?"
"If there are worse videos coming..."
"There are no worse videos! I didn't do anything!"
But even as she said it, doubt crept into her mind like poison. What if there were more videos? What if someone had been watching her for months, waiting for the perfect moment to destroy her?
The doorbell rang again. This time, someone was pounding on the door too.
"Police! Open up!"
Amelia's perfect life was officially over.