Joey had been invited to the White House as a goodwill ambassador for ethnic equity.
It wasn't random. She was living proof of the American Dream, the most visible young Asian-American leader in the equality space, the biggest breakout star in the country, and the girl who'd set a protest stage on fire a few months earlier with a speech that still got shared daily.
She wasn't about to say no.
She spent weeks writing and rewriting, cutting every line that sounded like a press release and keeping only what felt real. On the day, she went full power-suit: black blazer and trousers, hair in a sleek low bun, understated makeup with a bold red lip that said "I'm here to work."
When she stepped up to the White House podium she almost laughed; there were more cameras than at the Oscars. This stage was a different beast, and she felt the weight. But fear? Nah. This was her lane now.
The speech wasn't live on TV, but every major network carried clips that night. People wanted to hear what the miracle girl had to say when nobody was paying her to sell movie tickets.
She ditched the teleprompter halfway through and just talked.
"Today we're launching something we're calling IForYou.
I'm reaching my hand out to you, because I need your help.
We want to end ethnic inequality, and we can't do it without every single one of you in this fight.
Asian-Americans still get passed over for jobs and college spots. We still fight to be taken seriously as leading actors in this industry. We still carry stereotypes that were old when my parents were kids.
I want equality you can actually feel, not just read about in mission statements.
I was ten the first time someone laughed at me for saying I wanted to direct movies. They didn't laugh at the white kids who said the same thing.
At sixteen, when my first film came out, the press covered me like I was an exotic curiosity.
At eighteen they started using my face as a punchline.
I don't know if Ivy League schools hide behind 'diversity' to cap Asian enrollment, but I do know it's crushing when you get a 2390 on your SATs, perfect scores in every AP science, and still get rejected from Harvard, Princeton, Stanford, and MIT because apparently you're 'not well-rounded enough.'
Every time I hear another story like that, it hurts.
So yes, I'm 100% for equity. But that doesn't mean taking seats away from anyone else.
Today I'm inviting everybody, white, Black, brown, every shade, to join us. This isn't just a minority issue. If you believe in fairness, this is your fight too.
If you're willing to stand up for people who don't look like you… thank you. From the bottom of my heart."
She wrapped in under twenty-five minutes. The second she finished, the room exploded into applause that wouldn't stop.
It wasn't the fiery protest speech; it was quieter, calmer, and somehow hit harder because it asked white America to show up instead of yelling at them.
Clips aired everywhere that night. Within 48 hours the full video had 60 million views on YouTube and was subtitled in a dozen languages. Asian fans overseas called her the modern-day hero straight out of wuxia novels: "A true侠, fighting for justice and the people."
Three days later, over 100,000 non-minority Americans (mostly white) had signed the IForYou pledge promising to advocate for ethnic equity. The White House server crashed twice from the traffic.
Joey's little personal blog rocketed to #3 on Gawker's most-followed list, right behind the President and some Wall Street titan. The comments were a love-bomb:
"Joy, we stan forever!!!"
"My campus radio won't stop playing your speech. Come visit us!!"
"This is what an actual role model looks like."
"Went to my third Twilight rewatch today… ma'am we need the next movie yesterday."
Then the phone rang again.
Elizabeth Parker, Senior Advisor to the UN Office on Racial Equity, wanted a meeting.
Elizabeth got straight to the point over coffee in D.C.:
"I've been fighting this fight for eleven months at the UN, and one thing is crystal clear: if we want the world to talk about racial equity, we can't keep the conversation inside activist circles only. We need it global, mainstream, undeniable.
That's why we want you."
Joey blinked. "You want me… for what, exactly?"
"We'd like you to accept the role of UN Goodwill Ambassador for Racial Equity. And when the timing's right (could be months, could be a year), we'll get you a speaking slot at the General Assembly."
Joey actually laughed out loud, half in disbelief. "You're telling me one speech at the White House and now the United Nations wants me?"
Elizabeth smiled. "One speech that got 60 million views in three days and made a hundred thousand white Americans pledge to fight for people who don't look like them. Yes. That speech."
Joey didn't even have to think about it.
"I'm in. Honored doesn't begin to cover it."
She shook Elizabeth's hand, red lipstick still perfect, eyes shining like someone who just realized the stage had gotten a whole lot bigger.
The miracle girl was going global.