Tola was a social media celebrity, an actress, a well-known influencer, and the face of several luxury brands. Her beauty arrived before her words ever did. Her figure commanded attention wherever she went. Before she spoke, people noticed her body; when she opened her mouth, they listened.
She was admired, desired, and pursued by men from every walk of life. Those who wanted to sleep with her, marry her, or simply boast of knowing her.
But Tola had not always lived like this.
There was a time when she was slim, insecure, and painfully invisible. A girl with low self-esteem who never believed she could matter to anyone. That chapter of her life felt like another lifetime altogether.
The memories returned while she sat signing yet another ambassadorial contract, seated across from the technical director after a long negotiation. After the deal was sealed, he suggested they celebrate dinner together. Tola forced a smile and told him she would confirm later, her schedule was too tight.
Yet as soon as she settled into her waiting limousine, irritation flooded her mind.
"That old dog," she muttered under her breath. During the entire meeting, his eyes had barely left her body. The same hungry stare she had grown used to, like the others who never bothered to see beyond her curves.
Her manager noticed her mood and sighed.
"Tola," she said gently, "you have the body of a goddess. Stares come with it. It's unavoidable."
The words offered no comfort.
When she reached home later that night, discomfort returned, not from emotion this time, but from fabric. Her outfit squeezed her body until breathing felt forced. She hurried out of it, pulling on a loose singlet with relief before brewing her usual cup of slimming tea. The routine had become her ritual, a constant reminder of the body she worked hard to maintain, because everything she owned depended on it.
The following day, Tola spent time with one of her "sugar daddies," as she called them. Chief Job was her biggest sponsor—the foundation of her wealth. Most of what she had came through him, so she obliged his demands without complaint.
They lounged in the luxurious living room, chatting and laughing when he suddenly studied her carefully.
"Tola," he said slowly, "you're growing wealthier and thicker every time I see you. You should watch yourself."
She frowned.
"I adore your structure, your beauty is unmatched," he continued casually. "But a flat tummy matters to me. I need perfection in my girl."
Tola laughed lightly, hiding the sting beneath playful charm.
Moments later, the television flickered alive with a news broadcast. Chief Job appeared on-screen, being interviewed beside his wife.
Tola stared.
The woman was elegant in a slender way small-framed, graceful, with none of the exaggerated curves that made Tola famous. No dramatic hips, no full breasts, not the proportions men constantly praised Tola for possessing. And yet… she was his wife.
Confusion tightened Tola's chest.
If men desire women like me so badly… why don't they marry us?
The question lingered like a bitter taste.
Lost in thought, memories resurfaced.
There was once a girl with an innocent body, soft, petite, beautiful without effort. That was Tola before the hunger for more took hold. Back then, she wanted what the big people had: wealth, admiration, power, relevance.
And she had gotten it all.
Money.
Men.
Endorsements.
Sponsorships.
Fame.
Everything a woman could ever desire, earned through her body with little struggle.
Yet, in the glow of flashing lights and luxury, a strange emptiness remained. one she never spoke about aloud.